#I think I'm giving 'old man yells at cloud'-vibes

[kausijuoppo]

More undie experiments

[puckpocketed]

on the topic of mutuals actually ! (+ my thoughts on blocking) long and winding non essay under the cut.

mutualism and friendship

it's come up semi-regularly in conversation in the past month-ish and i've been marinating on it so I guess I should write my thoughts down here.

i'm sure this isn't a groundbreaking brainwave no one has ever had before but uh . i think this is probably a product of having grown up with very little social media but i just dont particularly care for the concept of mutuals. i dont think about it. i think of people on here as friends first and mutuals second. "mutuals" is barely meaningful to me as a label other than shorthand for friends, and even then it is rendered useless by the fact that I think of some non-mutuals as friends.

idc if you follow my blog back, if we're regularly interacting and having fun then we are friends regardless of mutual status. the focus on "being mutuals" is, to me, a little impractical (and sidebar,, honestly its kinda crazy how divorced it is from the real human phenomenon of connection and friendship. hello!!!!! why we letting social media button supplant friendship and connection. not to be Old Man Yells at Clouds but what are we doing raising this generation to think about being mutuals and commenting/liking posts as some friendship obligation, on the same level as smiling at them or laughing with them. hello. what are we doing giving them anxiety about whether or not enough people liked their posts. what are we doing???? does someone wanna talk about this with me because it eats me up lmao)

I'd rather people follow me because they, idk, enjoy the little character bits i do + my unhinged liveblogging + occasional gifs and baking - rather than out of some obligation because we are friendly. don't put yourself through the ordeal of being flooded by sharks magma whenever they play a game just because we're friends LMAO i wouldn't do that for anyone if the situation were reversed !!

^on this topic, if I don't follow you back it doesn't mean I don't like you, I might simply not vibe with your blog. the decision to follow is not predicated on whether or not we have good rapport. it's literally just choosing to see your blog on my feeds. speaking as someone who has done a fair bit of leg work to curate my internet experience, following/not following is part of that. and I think of other people's choices this way as well. i think not vibing with my blog is fine! it is incredibly scattered and the content is NOT for everyone and that's okay.

on blocking

blocking simply aint that big to me. I don't take it seriously or personally if i somehow realise I've been blocked, and blocking others isn't personal for me either. to me it is, again, simply an act of dashboard curation. I think i'd be way more anxious if i thought about blocking in terms of liking/hating.

I block people for all sorts of reasons, silly or serious. Sometimes i'm just annoyed that day, sometimes they say stuff that is deeply offensive to me. There's a whole spectrum of feelings about the blogs subject to my blocking habits that fall between the two extremes. at the core of it, it's about not wanting to see them in my feeds. simple as that.

(by the by, I block from my main blog and not my side blog, so people can still see things from puckpocketed if they want, and I don't have to see them! WIN-WIN!)

blog =/= blogger. I try to keep this distinction clear in my head. when a person makes a post on their blog and I have a problem with it, whether it annoys me mildly (stupid rude shit on my posts) or genuinely offends me to my core (racism or something), blocking them is not about saying "fuck you". it is not the "I have moral highground" button. not to me.

everything falls under this umbrella: racism, misogyny, completely out of pocket comments on my posts, being mildly annoying. Blocking isn't personal because I don't actually know anyone well enough to hate them, and the act of curating my feeds ain't praxis. blogging isn't praxis. I have bigger fish to fry so to speak. I have a real life and people to care for and communities to build. I have poetry to read and dogs to say hello to. i got a whole life to live!

the content of someone's blog is a TINY portion of who they are when weighed against the rest of their existence. it is but a sliver of their life and their personhood. I see it like this: wouldn't like it very much if someone made sweeping conclusions about my personhood based on my blog posts, and so I try not to do that either. key word is try. I don't always succeed and I think that's okay. we are all doing what we can on this bitch of an earth <3 what is most important is I'm trying to give people the grace I'd want for myself. like . shit. isn't that what its all about?? (mini confessional: I was a mean and angry person for a long time. in some ways i still feel like i am. but learning kindness by studying it instead of having it baked into my brain chemistry or however the fuck other people get it has taught me that we have to try)

anyway if u are still reading this hiii!!! I'd say sorry i just wanted to put my thoughts somewhere but . well. its MY blog and i get to paste weird magazine cutouts and glitter to my walls if i wanna !!! thank u for ur time

[tired-coelacanth]

I'm so starved for emotional connections. I just hate the modern social norms and how difficult it is to create and maintain relationships, both friendly and romantic. I don't really know if I am the problem or if many people feel the same way, but having a social life in this day and age is such a fucking chore!

It is so difficult nowadays to meet like-minded people then keeping them close. Where I'm from, people won't let you enter or engage their social circle unless you already are acquainted with one of them. I know this isn't the right word but "eclectic" is probably the best term I can think of right now to describe this behaviour.

Sure I might meet someone during an event or just while enjoying some time outside of my apartment, we might exchange numbers or social media, but very rarely do we actually keep in touch.

Besides the struggle of making new friends, why does it feel so hard to maintain the friendships I had for years? It is insane how many friends I have lost these last couple of years. Some were justified, others not so much. A situation that is both frustrating and heartbreaking is when we realise that our friends wouldn't reach out to us if we didn't reach out first. It's such a disappointment to realise that the last 10 times you've talked and/or hung out with someone was because you texted pr called them first.

I mostly blame social media for how bad we are at communicating. When you don't want to be friends or lovers with someone anymore, you can so easily block or ghost them. Fleeing from unwanted social interactions is made so simple with social media that we forgot how to face someone in real life. How can we hope to have healthy connections with anyone when we've been unlearning how to interact with each other for the past 20 years?

We live in a world where socialising and communicating is supposed to be easy yet we grow increasingly lonely. Statistically, teens and young adults suffer from social isolation more each year.

I'm gonna stop here, this post already gives huge "old man yells at cloud" vibes and there's only so much ranting I can do. To be clear I'm not looking for sympathy, we're all just strangers on the Internet after all, I just thought some of you might find these observations/opinions interesting.

Good night

[skyland2703]

Hallooo!😂

Assorted OTP Questions: Javelia Edition

Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

Which member steels burrows the other ones clothing?

Who is "more loved" by the in-laws?

Who is more likely to get jealous?

Hahaha I've got about a MILLION overly specific headcanons... try not to pass out.

Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason? Amelia makes the impulsive decisions. She's acting without thinking most of the time. And that lands her up in trouble more often than not. Believe it or not, Javi is the voice of reason (although he’s had his own share of insane decisions, but in comparison, he’s better off.) He’s never stolen a car, wrecked it, left it in the snow and hidden in a church while trying to avoid arrest— or at least he didn’t do it out of his own reasoning. He’d have tried to avoid it. Amelia is really REALLY the type who would pull the trigger first and think of implications later.

Which member steels burrows the other ones clothing? Both of them!! Their closets are one and the same, they even go shopping together. And their sizes are roughly the same, Javi being only a liiiiittle bigger than her. So they frequently exchange each other’s clothes. It depends on whose house they’re staying over at. They do have preferences. Amelia had a light pink hoodie with a galaxy print and cute clouds, that Javi hijacked the first week they started dating and now she calls it Javi’s hoodie. Javi thinks she looks absolutely stunning in his leather jackets and offers to do her eye make-up to make it go with the leather jacket— and he dies minutes later because her brown eyes highlighted by his artwork are murderous. Also he’s kept a bunch of oversized shirts that he thinks look cute on him, even though they’re oversized on him too. When she’s wearing oversized shorts she’s usually bare underneath and that is… he likes that.

Who is "more loved" by the in-laws Comparatively, it’s Javi. But that’s because Javi doesn’t have a Warden Carlos Garcia to impress. Pop Pop threatened Javi once, the whole break my baby girl's heart and I'll break you deal but he was pretty happy with Javi dating her, because 1. He was too old to break anything Javi had, and 2. He knew he didn't need to. Amelia on the other hand... had some issues. Izzy's delivery of the "break my big bro's heart" line had far too much impact, especially with her growly voice and the fact that she'd just returned from javelin throw practice and was holding a spear in her hand anyway. Their mom had been really nice to Amelia though, she even offered her cookies when Amelia visited... Warden Garcia said "No." the second the idea was presented. Followed by a "I'm very disappointed in you, my boy" and a more authoritative "I demand you never see her again" which was met with Amelia taking it on her ego, and showing up at the Garcia's in the middle of the night with a shovel, drunk as fuck, and and yelling "GIVE ME YOUR SON OR I WILL TAKE YOU TO YOUR GRAVE! I HAVE MY GHOSTS BACKING ME UP"

Who is more likely to get jealous? Amelia gets jealous. She's crazy possessive. Javi gets jealous, but not as much as Amelia. More than jealous, he gets insecure, with the whole "am I not good enough" vibe, where he's just sulking in a corner like a puppy in the rain. Amelia is the jealous type and would do anything to keep her man. That's it. I'm not elaborating further.

[bakubub]

favourite time of year

w/c: 1.2k

written for @kal0psi-a 's halloween collab

folding the sticky dough carefully, just as the recipe instructed, i try my best to ignore the itching in my nose in a feeble attempt to stay concentrated, but give up when it starts to irritate my eyes.

"eughh, because of you there's flour in my nose," i complain to my boyfriend, who has his chin hooked over my shoulder and very heavily leaning over me.

"hey, don't complain! have you seen my hair?" he asks, stretching his neck to show me. sure enough, his hair is more white than it is black. i rake my hand through it before he can say anything, my dough covered hands clumping his hair together as an avalanche of flour sprinkles all over my chest.

he screeches, jumping back from me and i quickly use this chance to start running, because based on previous incidents, there's a 90% chance he will chase me relentlessly.

his cough from across the kitchen halts my escape plan, "are you happy now? i have flour in my nose too," he complains.

i watch in amusement as a cloud of flour puffs around him in the shape of a mushroom as he sneezes heavily, looking quite literally like a cartoon character and quickly near him to snap a picture. this will do nicely for the autumn section in this year's album.

since we started dating, tetsuro and i have been taking photos of one another, which we organise into albums by year, separated by season. it started when he gave me an album on our first anniversary, now, 6 years later and married, putting together an album of the past year has become tradition. each season we do an activity that correlates with the vibe, and today, we're making pumpkin pie with halloween shape indents because really, what else comes to mind when you think of fall?

i laugh loudly at the photo i took, his face caught mid sneeze, and it seems to flick the switch deep within tetsuro that i thought i had flicked earlier, and his feline gaze snaps to mine, before lurching forward in an attempt to catch me. i move just in the nick of time and run to the other side of the bench. he chases me until we're playing cat and mouse around the bench like children, slowly stalking one another as the other makes it as though they're backtracking but running forward instead.

"give up, wicked witch!" he exclaims, putting his right hand on his heart and holding the other outwards as he closes his eyes, apparently overwhelmed with emotion, "it is i, prince tetsu-" in the midst of his theatrics, i move in for the kill. his need for dramatics is most definitely his achille's heel, i think as i stab him in the hip with my fingers, and he yelps, opening his eyes only to find the mouse catching the cat.

"and the wicked witch of fall wins!" i yell, jumping up and down, getting flour all over the hardwood floors.

"fine, this round goes to you. your reward? a magical kiss from your prince charming," he says, leaning in and halting my celebration.

"the prince kisses the witch? haven't heard this fairy-tale before," i mutter before he silences me by placing a soft but unhurried kiss on my lips. my hands automatically make their way around his neck, and i lean back slightly as his hands firmly hold my waist, providing protection and support even in a moment as miniscule as this. in the glow of the autumn sunset, painting our kitchen with a golden hue, with the man i love in front of me, everything is perfect. we break off, his forehead leaning on mine, neither of us moving away.

"this is our fairy-tale, with its own happy ending."

looking up, I'm met with his golden brown stare, the small specks of gold especially visible in this lighting, practically glowing. his white turtle neck hugging his form nicely, and his raven hair sprinkled with flour, i can't help but wonder if this is what we're going to be like in the future, when we've lived our lives, and grown old together; the only indication of our age being the salt and pepper hair, and the slightly more prominent lines around our eyes from spending a lifetime of smiling.

because that's how it would be, i think, to have tetsuro next to me for eternity, to smile and to laugh every day.

he has to kneel down considerably to reach my lips with his own, to rest his forehead on mine, but the look on his face and the emotion in his familiar, beautiful eyes reflect nothing but comfort and content, genuine even as he says stupid and cliché things. in a way, he’s promising me nothing but a life full of the music of our happiness.

"i love you, witch," he whispers, as if afraid to ruin the moment by speaking.

i kiss him again, before pulling out my secret weapon and dumping more flour over his head. "love you too, prince!" i screech as i run away. i hear his chuckles as he chases after me, muttering empty promises of revenge just as he did before, and every other time, and hopefully, if my luck holds out, every time after.

---

"okay, nod gonna lie, dis ith really goo-dh" i say, speaking with a mouth full of the pumpkin pie we finally got around to baking.

i watch him snap a photo of me, smiling through my full mouth, knowing full well i have pie all over my mouth and teeth.

“you’ve never looked better, babe,” he says, chuckling, before trying it himself, moaning through his full mouth, "oh mhy gohd." i roll my eyes as he continues, "baby, thth is fudding amathing," he says, taking another, and then another bite.

“slow it down, moron. you’re going to choke and the wicked witch is going to have to ruin her comfy position to give you the heimlich,” i say, my legs crossed on the carpeted floor with my feet nice and warm in my thick panda bear socks.

“how abouth we sthip straighd to the kith of life?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows with a mouth full of pie.

"how about you shuffle the cards, prince? i'll pick a movie," i suggest, or rather order, raising my brows. he salutes sarcastically as he sets down his plate and goes to get our worn out deck of uno cards.

"i thought you were a witch, not a princess," he mutters once he swallows his pie.

"actually, i married the prince so that legally makes me a princess. c'mon tetsuro," i say, pressing play on a random comedy to play in the background.

with the fireplace going under the television, and our pumpkin spice and cinnamon candles lit, the room is cozy, warm and calm.

that is until tetsuro yells his profanities about me placing a 2+ on his 4+.

"THAT'S NOT ALLOWED! YOU CAN ONLY PLACE A 4+ ON TOP OF A 4+"

"since WHEN?! THIS WASN'T THE RULE LAST WEEK!" i scream back, refusing to back down. i am not picking up four cards. "i would never cheat. unlike YOU," i accuse, shoving another fork full of the pie into my mouth in defiance.

he dramatically gasps shoving a fork full of pie into his own mouth, and glares at me. i glare right back, both of us wordlessly agreeing that whoever loses the staring competition loses the uno argument. ignoring the burning in my eyes, i keep my expression neutral as i watch the tears building up in tetsuro's lashline, his right eye twitching and turning slightly red.

"YES!" i scream as he blinks, wiping his eyes and sighing dramatically before beginning to pick up six cards, unable to come up with an excuse.

i laugh mercilessly and we continue the game, which i ended up winning after he picked up another 12 cards, flashing me the 'please have mercy on me' eyes every time he reached for the deck.

"you really are a wicked little witch aren't you?" he mutters as he gets up. i snort in response, eating the last of my pie.

"i wanna another slice," he announces. "you want?" nodding eagerly, i give him my plate.

"i want a slice with a bat," i call out, referring to the misshapen shapes we cut out on the top layer of the pie.

when he came back, he halted at the door as he silently watches me set up face masks and mani-pedi equipment on the coffee table, the entire pie tray with two forks, instead of two slices, in his hands. i raised my eyebrows, and he mirrors my expression towards my makeshift salon on the floor of our living room.

we both shrug and he comes and sits next to me, picking up a face mask packet and reading the description.

"ooh! aloe vera!"

that's how we ended up watching shitty comedies all night with white face masks on and stomachs stuffed with pie.

---

laying in bed my head resting on tetsuro's shoulder and my hand rhythmically stroking his hair, i bask in the feeling of comfort and my mind being stress free. shielded from the cold night with a million blankets and the massive man sleeping next to me, with my especially cold, numb feet tucked under his thigh, i match my breathing with his easily as i follow after him into a deep slumber.

because that's what the season of autumn is about, really. taking it easy after the adventurous months that were spring and summer, to rewind and become a home-bug again as the weather cools down. and these moments with tetsuro?

these moments are what makes this my favourite time of year.

ahhh this was so, so fun!! special thanks to @/kal0psi-a for organising this entire collab <3

[innranrae]

🐚 A Birthday Amidst the Archipelago

A/N: oneshot for my fav russian boys bday, i included the golden apple archipelago bc it was the most fun event/area I've experienced in genshin so far and I'll miss it a lot but at least it's inazuma and electro aether time, anyways hope you enjoy this and if you have suggestions/tips on writing or anything please lmk! I'm new to it all and I'm trying my best ;w; my friend proofread this tho and shes big brain so id say this one is pretty swaggy

￫ pairing(s): Zhongli/Childe, Aether/Venti (kinda platonic tbh), Venti and Dvalin vibing

￫ word count: ~ 3k

￫ cw: alcohol

￫ ao3

🏖️

Zhongli sensed a large being coming from the skies of Duyun Ruins. He did not want to believe it, but his doubts were soon confirmed.

Dvalin descended from the clouds with a heavy thud, sending the living creatures around either running or flying. Mounted on the Dragon of the East were Venti and Aether; The bard wore a pair of sunglasses and a light attire that shocked Zhongli to the core, he had thought the anemo archon could not get any more ludicrous, but it appears he was mistaken.

A slight frown grew on his face watching the scene and the geo archon couldn’t help but raise his palm to his face, sighing. On the flip side, Childe was astonished; his eyes sparkled observing Dvalin, considering what the outcome would be if they were to fight.

—

2 days earlier

“Traveler,

It has been some time since we last saw each other. I do hope your ventures are going smoothly.

I am writing to you to request assistance with an event that will take place two days from now. As you may know, Childe’s birthday is on the 20th of this month and I have been finding it hard to come up with a suitable gift. I wish to surprise him but nothing that fits my criteria comes to mind, in addition to the fact I am still adjusting to mortal life and their festivals.

If you do not mind and, of course, if you are free that day, I hope you can help me with this matter.

Zhongli”

After sending his letter to Aether, Zhongli straightened his shoulders on the stool at one of Heyu Tea House’s tables, raising a cup of steaming tea to his mouth, and waited for his guest to arrive.

“Receiving an invitation from Mr. Zhongli first sure feels nice,” a voice shouted coming from the stairs.

Zhongli glanced at the harbinger who took a seat by his side, “Childe, do you have any plans for your birthday?”

Childe widened his eyes slightly, “Birthday?” He raised his hand thoughtfully to his face. “Oh, my birthday! Hm… Is Mr. Zhongli planning on giving me some type of gift?” The harbinger smiled playfully.

“Please answer my question.”

“Nope! None at all.”

In actuality, Childe should be busy taking care of the Fatui’s business around Liyue; unfortunately for his underlings, he was going to do whatever he wanted either way. Additionally, he had a feeling Mr. Zhongli’s question was not trivial, and speculated the archon probably wanted to make plans.

“I see."

Unexpectedly, instead of proceeding on that topic, Zhongli said nothing more as he took another sip of his tea.

Despite the surprising lack of further development, he forgot about it as soon as Zhongli started to talk about a Ruin Hunter he encountered the prior day in the fields.

He knew by now what topics intrigued Childe's simple warrior mind, and that alone had Childe rambling about fighting tactics and his own experiences to Zhongli, occasionally trying to convince the archon to fight him, which he politely refused.

—

Meanwhile, at the Golden Apple Archipelago...

"I could really use a hand over here, Venti!" Aether's cry for help could barely be heard over the shrieking group of hilichurls advancing one after the other.

"But I-"

After unleashing a wind vortex from his palm, Aether glared at the bard, who was leisurely plucking the strings of his lyre on top of a rock. "Playing a battle song isn't helping!" He cut Venti off, resulting in the end of Venti's untimely concert with lots of whining.

After jumping off the rock, the bard shot an arrow that sent the group of monsters flying altogether.

The pair had a short-lived moment of relief, but soon the eerie sound of a horn was heard, indicating that more enemies were on their way. Aether groaned while Venti giggled nervously, and so, they had to return to their combat stances.

Not long after engaging, the traveler heard a short sound that made him stop his blade.

“Oh, I’ve got mail,” Aether walked a few steps from the fighting, reading the message while leaving the bard to get the monsters’ attention.

Venti's eyes widened at the sudden rush of monsters coming directly at him, though luckily, he sent them flying once again.

“Woah~ Don’t do that so suddenly, traveler, so mean!”

After reading Zhongli’s message, Aether was deep in thought, looking around as if searching for something, until his eyes met the green-colored ones of the anemo archon that reciprocated the eye contact, with a touch of wonder.

Zhongli opened the new mail he received, analyzing the few words Aether had sent.

“Meet us by Duyun Ruins at 9 in the morning, bring Childe with you.”

“Meet us? If I am not mistaken, Paimon has been staying with Xiangling, and didn’t show any signs of wanting to leave any time soon. Perhaps she can easily travel back and forth,” Zhongli thought to himself.

—

Present Day, Duyun Ruins

Jumping from the dragon’s back, Venti beamed, “Morax! Long time no see~!” Arms wide open as he threw himself towards his old friend. But before he got too close, Zhongli shielded himself, and instead of a hug, Venti’s face was compressed against the solid surface of the geo shield.

Venti staggered a step back from the impact, raising his hand to his cheek, now starting to swell, “Ow!” He pouted.

Zhongli tried to keep his cool, throwing a look at the two boys who recently arrived,waiting for an explanation.

Aether catches on the meaningful gaze and reassures, “Don’t worry, I think we avoided being noticed by anyone.”

“Yeah, Dvalin here is… Well, he tries to be discreet when flying around. After all, I was the one who taught him that~" Venti put a hand on the dragon's body while the other gave Zhongli a thumbs up.

"Saying you were the one who taught him does not reassure me one bit…" Zhongli’s veins were protruding from distress by now. "Aside from that, aren't you supposed to be more careful not to expose your identity in front of the common folk?"

The three other men stared at Zhongli in confusion, exchanging looks between themselves, "Common folk?" Venti asked. Childe was the first to realize he was probably talking about him and began laughing at the Zhongli's seemingly forgetfulness.

"Morax, you sure only remember what you want, huh. Even I know from the traveler's stories that this boy here is the eleventh harbinger of the Fatui. If that harbinger lady took my gnosis, I'm sure this kid knows my identity by now," Venti reassured while Aether slowly nodded, feeling second-hand embarrassment.

Zhongli was at a loss for words, raising his fist to his mouth, awkwardly coughing. On the other hand, the harbinger found the situation quite funny and patted Morax's back a few times while giggling.

Zhongli met Aether's eyes, "Nevertheless, what I desire to know is why that bard and his dragon are here?"

"Well, you’ll see when we get there," Aether reassured, getting back on the dragon's back along with Venti.

Childe cheerfully jumped on, extending his hand down to the geo archon who bashfully accepted, pointedly ignoring the meaningful grins the two other boys directed at him. And with little effort, Dvalin took off to the Golden Apple Archipelago.

The Snezhnayan boy's eyes gleamed with excitement from his first-ever experience that high up, sitting between behind Aether and in front of Zhongli.

Though, his laxity almost made the reddish mask on his hair fly away, luckily being rescued by the man behind him.

"Thank you!" The powerful gushes of wind made his words difficult to understand, yet enough for Zhongli to understand them.

If any normal person would travel through the clouds in the back of a dragon for the first time in their life, surely they would practice caution or be a little wary of their surroundings.

However, because Childe was Childe, an expert in adapting fast to just about anything, the journey on the skies was far from frightening.

A few minutes had passed and the boys were already close to their destination, and with his usual carefree expression, Venti looked back at the men behind him, yelling as Dvalin descended, "Hold on tight!"

With another loud thud, Dvalin settled at the northwestern part of Twinning Isle. Aether grew anxious in anticipation, waiting for Childe to see the preparations that he and Venti had come up with in such a short timeframe.

They had the inspiration from Alice's surprise for Klee, though not as crafty as she was. With the help of Tubby back in the Serenitea Pot, he managed to decorate the place nicely with newly crafted objects.

Umbrellas and chairs painted a light shade of sky blue sat next to fishing rods, Sea Ganodermas and conches decorated the sand in a path leading to a gazebo, which had seashells and starfishes hang from the wooden ceiling, surrounded by curtains.

And inside of it, one chest stored miscellaneous things, while the one next to it contained something that Venti declared extremely necessary: summer clothing he managed to acquire. In addition to the clothes he prepared, the anemo archon was also tasked with providing the food and drinks.

Visibly so as there were at least three bottles of either dandelion or osmanthus wine for every single dish on the table. Which, of course, was all paid for with the traveler's Mora.

All in all, the table was charmingly organized. A cake with a whale drawn on top of it sat in the middle of it all, while balloons were tied to the wooden table.

Upon reaching the sand, Childe was fascinated. The ocean breeze brushing against his face, the warm sunlight of the Archipelago and the salty waves gently crashing onto the tide united all the scenery together.

He’d never seen such a tropical place in his life, so unfamiliar in comparison to his frozen homeland's weather and features.

Lost in admiration for the scenery, he had already forgotten that it was his birthday, only remembering when Zhongli called out his name, directing him to look ahead where the decorated area was put, in preparation for the celebration to commence.

Venti leaned back against Dvalin's tail, already playing a melody, as the other three walked along the decorated path.

Aether fastened his steps, going ahead and getting a small box. Then, turning back to the birthday boy, he extended the gift.

"Happy birthday, Childe."

The harbinger let out a small "thank you" before opening it.

His blue eyes twinkled as he grabbed the content inside the box for closer examination. It was a bright piece of wood with a smaller version of him, Teucer and Aether drawn on it, as well as a ruin guard, or “Mr. Cyclops” as his little brother would say, stood behind them.

Without thinking, Childe embraced Aether tightly with a wide smile across his face, and at the display of the ginger’s excitement, the traveler couldn't help but feel accomplished.

After the gift was exchanged, Venti pointed out the clothes he had prepared, which made Zhongli flinch at the thought of wearing sunglasses as eccentric as his. Luckily, they were just lighter clothes, not accessories.

Childe, already excited from the exotic scenery, went on ahead to change his clothes behind a tall rock.

Zhongli and Aether walked towards the same location, at a much slower pace than the Snezhnayan boy, who was already out of sight.

“Thank you for your efforts, traveler. You managed to surprise me as well,” Zhongli finally got the chance to say.

“It was no problem at all. I’m having fun and the ‘tone-deaf bard’ was a great help, too.”

Childe emerged from behind the rock suddenly, wearing shorts and a shirt that was presumably supposed to be buttoned up. As a matter of fact, all the attires were of a similar design, the few differences being their color schemes, a few patterns, and the boy’s usual accessories.

Before any reaction, they heard monstrous noises getting closer to the shelter. A group of hilichurls nearby seemed to have been alarmed by the dragon’s arrival.

Something inside Childe’s mind clicked and he immediately turned the way of the shrieks, getting ready to fight, “Leave them to me!”

“Oh I was counting on that,” Aether affirmed as Venti nodded. Knowing very well of the harbinger’s passion for fighting, they speculated about the attack and gladly attached it to the list of events for that day.

Aether’s words were thrown at no one though, since Childe had left as soon as those four words left his lips earlier, leaving no time to receive any reaction from the others.

Bad luck for those poor hilichurls, honestly.

Childe's hydro blades moved swiftly, leaving droplets in the sand as they slashed one after the other, ending each almost instantly, leaving little space for a counterattack. He only stopped moving when there were no more of the monsters around, either because they were actually all dead or ran away from fear.

Coming back to the shelter’s path, Childe saw that they were now fishing, which made him joyfully run to join them, and noticing that he was back, Zhongli offered Childe a fishing rod and a seat next to himself.

“Oh man, this takes me back to the old days with my dad,” The ginger said while settling down on the beach chair, “Though the temperatures are the complete opposite, haha. I wonder if my family would survive the extreme change in the weather, though.”

Zhongli and Aether listened attentively while holding their rods, all the while, the anemo archon, visibly tipsy, communicated with Dvalin nearby.

“How come you managed to adapt this easily to the sudden climate change, Childe?” Zhongli asked.

“A warrior must always adapt to any situation. If I let the heat get the best of me, I'm weakened, consequently leaving myself open to enemy attacks."

"Damn, he never changes. If it isn't about his family, the answer is always related to being a fighter… Well, it is almost comforting in a way." Aether thought, mentallyrolling his eyes while taking a sip of the drink Venti had given him.

"I see," Zhongli seriously responded, "It is indeed true. Keeping one's body and mind stable is a must when facing laborious challenges."

Childe was filled with joy upon hearing the acknowledgement. It was always pleasant to hear someone who understood his point of view.

The traveler shifted his attention upon feeling a small force pulling down the

rod.

A fish had finally taken the bait, and the eyes of the two men also moved towards him when they heard the small "oh" Aether let out.

They all rejoiced at the successful catch and its size, and the traveler went straight ahead to prepare a meal for them.

—

As the day went by, they had almost checked everything on the task list; They fished for a while, Aether showed the mechanisms and puzzles that Klee's mom prepared, even landing his Harpastum so Childe could try them, he also taught them how to ride and summon the Waverider, they exchanged various anecdotes, as well as how the traveler came across the Archipelago in the first place, describing the whole Dodo King saga, and finally, filled themselves with food and drinks.

The sun rapidly fell under the horizon, merging the last colored rays of marigold into the indigo night sky. Venti had managed to convince the traveler to drink with him throughout the day and, needless to say, they were quite drunk by now, though both of them had a high tolerance and were somehow still acting civilized.

While Dvalin slept, the four men sat on the sand, listening to Venti sing around the crackling campfire.

When the bard began to sing a piece about Snezhnaya, Childe seemed to have recalled something.

He shuffled through his belongings, grabbing a bottle with a clear liquid, “This was a gift I received earlier, it’s a Snezhnayan specialty alcohol, Fire-Water!”

Aether gulped nervously at the familiar name. He had heard the stories around Mondstadt, how Master Diluc spent three days in bed after drinking a single glass of it, leading to the unsuccessful partnership with the Snezhnayan merchants.

Childe poured the liquid into separate cups and went around distributing them to the boys. Sitting back in his original spot, he continued, “As per tradition, we have to down the cup in one go!”

Venti was all in for the proposal, and despite their concern at first, Zhongli and Aether respected the birthday boy’s wish.

After raising their cups in a toast, they all drank the beverage at once.

Childe cheered, rambling about how he missed the taste of the drink. Zhongli seemed to be unaffected, calm as always, smiling and listening to the Snezhnayan boy.

However, Aether didn’t seem so well, he had expected the feeling, but because of the previous drinks he shared with the bard, it seemed to have had a stronger effect on him.

Aether wasn't the most affected by the drink, though.

That one shot was the ultimatum for Venti. His vision was blurry and he couldn’t stop laughing, which alarmed the others, but before they could take action and ask what was wrong, the archon fell into the sand, a grin on his face as he passed out.

After the realization of what just happened, Aether was the first to talk, “Um, I’ll take him to the shelter. I’m feeling a bit… dizzy too. I’ll get some sleep, haha,” He was making a great effort to sound coherent.

“Hope you enjoyed your day, Childe.”

A sincere smile was directed towards the boy sitting next to Zhongli. That expression warmed Childe’s heart. Aether had put great effort into this whole day and he could tell.

Childe was about to open his mouth to say something after the traveler turned his back to them while carrying Venti, but was stopped by the blonde, “Oh, there’s something I forgot to say. If you go west from here you will find another island with a shipwreck on top of the, um… Rock structure thing. It’s a good place to watch the stars. Anyways, hehe, good night.”

That piqued the two tall men’s interest, and after watching Aether and Venti enter the shelter, Childe looked at Zhongli, who was already standing up, as if he shared the same idea as the other.

A short cruise to the Nameless Isle later, Zhongli and Childe were already walking side by side through the tide, leaving steady footprints on the sand’s surface.

When the two stopped to both admire the place and look for a way to get to the top of the rocky mountain, Zhongli noticed a mural on the rock, which showed a shipwreck and what seemed to be a few people trying to save each other.

The archon was pondering about the meaning of it when he heard Childe’s voice from behind him.

“Mr. Zhongli, there’s a wind current over here!”

Zhongli went to the other’s location, noticing the current that led to the top of the mountain.

Without much effort, both of them got to the original destination: The shipwreck Aether mentioned.

It was indeed a tragic but beautiful place; a place where one could watch the azure starry sky, pale moon glowing brightly.

The two found a spot to sit near the ship that once sailed the seas, and watched the galaxies above them.

Childe offered another shot of the Fire-Water, which the both of them shared. Zhongli closed his eyes, deep in thought.

He had been trying to find the chance to give Childe his birthday gift, but he couldn’t find the opportunity to do so. Finally, now seemed like the perfect time.

He reopened his eyes and stared at Childe, who was watching the sky attentively, blue eyes shining unitedly with the stars.

“Childe.”

Upon hearing his name, he turned to look at the archon.

“Give me your hand,” Zhongli said, reaching his own towards the harbinger.

Childe automatically did so, and after searching for an object on the pocket of his shorts, Zhongli put the present on the other’s palm.

It was a single earring made of Noctilucous Jade and Cor Lapis, in a similar fashion as the one earring Childe normally wore.

“This reminded me of you when I saw it. If you do not wish to wear it, I understand, but I do hope you could keep it with you.”

Zhongli said that but the harbinger was already taking off his original earring, making the archon a bit embarrassed at the impulsiveness of the boy, yet very pleased.

Childe had been rambling about the, now, old earring and how he had gotten it in the first place, but after a while of no response from Zhongli, he gazed at him, being met by the image of the geo archon fast asleep.

Zhongli had a high alcohol tolerance, but with the nightfall, his drowsiness had grown to an almost unbearable level, and now, he was finally subdued by it.

Ajax couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, his expression softened and he decided it was time for him to rest too.

He had never had a better birthday in his life.

[the-messedup-priorities-so-far]

sticker fic:

brought to you by the sticker ficcers, @xojo​ and @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover​.

the narrated version:

"Morning, Sunshine." Says Dean. "Some coffee?"

"SCREW YOU." Says Sam. His glorious hair is wet.

"How dare you!" Says Dean. His mouth's the O-shape of offense. He's also putting on the dead guy robe for some reason.

"BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH!" Sam bitchfaces. In his eyes, is a glint which says, as he does - blah, blah, blah, blah. Then, he casts down his gaze. "Well, you are kinda butch."

Dean's eyes widen. His eyebrows don't rise. Instead of surprised, he looks shocked. Then he smirks, and quickly grows a stubble. With completely black eyes, he says. "I'm a demon."

Crowley appears, smirking. "Hello, boys."

"ASSBUTT." Castiel bellows. 

No one had known he was there.

"What's wrong with you?" Says Crowley, after quickly growing a stubble as well.

Castiel folds his arms. It makes the trenchcoat look fitted. You know, like a liar.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks, tucking his hair behind his ear at supersonic speed. No one knows when it happened. But he's Sam Fucking Winchester, so they know it did.

"I don't know!" Dean scratches his ear. He does not know the question was for Castiel. He makes his eyes as sad as they can be - and they can be impressively sad. One eyebrow strays up, floating on a cloud of misery. "I never was."

Sam looks alarmed in a V-neck. 

This is important information. Absolutely integral.

"Cat's out." Says Cas. He's rude, because his lips do a rude thing. And because of what he said. His eyes mock tragedy.

"Shut your face." Dean points. Pointing is rude. He does it anyway. While he does it, Sam grows bangs. "Oh god."

He lies down on the floor.

"Don't say that to me." Says Sam, with dimples of depression. He buries his face in his hands. Must feel pretty, the author conjectures.

"Come on." Dean says. He's frowning, and on a park bench. He looks closer with concentration and develops a double chin. Then he gels his hair really quickly and adds. "You look like a baby."

"SCREW YOU." Says Sam. His hair is wetter. His head is wet as well. Then he dries it with a whoosh no one notices, and looks away in disdain. He is in an open collared shirt. The author hopes you take note of these plot points carefully.

Dean shrieks.

Dean cries at a mirror.

Dean scowls, unimpressed. Ironically, his scowl is impressive. Moreover, it deages him.

Cas shrieks too. His eyes scream horrifiedness. His nostrils flare. You could see his molars, if you tried. The author tries.

Dean looks at a corner. "I don't even care anymore."

Charlie pokes her head out of a yellow car. Not enough is visible to be ugly, but readers are advised to assume it's ugly. "What's up bitches?" She's wearing a seatbelt. Gays are awesome.

"Kind of in the middle of something." Says Dean. His forehead has creases which have no right being pretty. They're pretty.

"I know. I was surprised too." Says Cas.

No one knows what he means.

Sam, suddenly lit in a green light, shows that he doesn't know what he means. He doesn't wait for an explanation, and raises his hand. "That's enough, uh yeah, thanks."

Sam is rude, beautifully.

The author is very helpful with pointing out plot points, as ever.

"You done?" Says Claire and her french braid.

Chuck is there now. He has an extremely white mug. It could have coffee inside. It could also have poison. The author does not identify as a journalist, and is not required to be unbiased.

"Do you have any bacon?" Says Chuck. He has curls. They hide the evil under.

"No." Jack says, blank faced for some reason. "You back off. Old man."

"Back off." Says Sam, in a slightly greater font size. One (1) lock of hair strays from his perfect mane, and falls on his face. It's still perfect, the author assures. Then Sam quickly gets shot, and his forehead pierced with metal rods. It's clearly for the vibe. Because Sam says, "I will destroy you." He does not say it periodlessly.

"Yeah. That's right." Says Jack. He pouts, because he's right. He can, because he's Jack.

Sam looks proud of him with a spotted blue tie and shiny, conditioned hair.

The author loves him very much.

part two, if you're the kind of person who wants it:

Rowena purses her lips, ending up with dimples of discontent.

"Balls!" Bobby cries out. Then he takes off his cap for some reason before adding, "Were you ever nice?"

"Shut up!" Dean yells over his shoulder. He fixes her with an offended stare - as if not shutting up would be offensive on her part.

"I hate to interrupt." Says Rowena, interrupting. "What the hell is this?" She looks appalled. Perhaps she's realized she just interrupted.

He's excellent at delivering backhanded insults like that. The author is proud of his newfound subtlety.

"Gun. Mouth. Now." Dean simply reaffirms Bobby's accusation - because he's awesome like that. "Shut your face." He also says, pointing at them all, to further illustrate his paternal figure's point.

Crowley plants his chin in his palm, and looks at the floor with an unreadable (the author swears she tried) glint in his eyes. "Kill me." Perhaps they're tears.

"Oh, they don't miss me." Cas lets out, matter-of-factly, as he sips from his teacup of coffee.

"I think this was just a minor misunderstanding." Sam steps in, and brings puppy bangs with him to solidify his statement.

The author tries and fails to survive staring at them.

Dean clicks his tongue, and manages to resemble a squirrel to a T. Or an S. Everyone's entitled to spell words differently, English is a weird language.

Sam looks at Dean, irritated. "Make it stop." He grits out, clenching his jaw. He's replaced the bangs with sideburns. They have more potential to seem irritated.

"Maybe." Cas pouts, inexplicably.

"What?" Dean sounds positively aghast - but it's toned down from the years of practise from being in the poetic kind of love with the only angel in the world for him - and thus, only shows up in his eyes.

"You don't understand." Cas picks up a salesboy by his collar. He's so whimsical, the author completely gets why Dean's head over heels for him. Cas keeps everyone - especially salesboys who don't get him pie - on their toes.

"You look like a baby." Dean informs him, all laugh-lines and dimples. "Okay, all right." He says next, gruff, trying to smoothen out the curve of seeming like a goner for Cas.

Cas shoots him a discouraging look. "Ouch." He bites his bottom lip, and closes his eyes - and everyone in a seven mile radius ends up pregnant.

True story.

Also, Narendra Modi shows up, namaste-ing the phenomena that is Cas.

"Shhhhit!" Cas squints. He knows a thing or two about horrible, prejudiced political leaders, from an alternate universe Cas's experiences.

"Oh god." Sam adds, regrowing bangs really quickly.

Modi whispers into his phone, eyes trepidly on everyone in the room, and a hand covering his mouth.

Dean stares, unimpressed. Or so it seems until he says, "You gotta teach me how to do that."

Modi shoots the universal gesture for OK at him.

"I will stab you in your face." Dean declares, with parted hair and an office tie. "I'm gonna get my gun." Now he's got sleep-floofed hair and the dead guy robe. Threatening Dean Winchester sure is impressive like that.

(Maybe he'd wanted to learn right away, and took Modi's OK as dismissal.)

(Meh.)

"Maybe you could be a little less... Lord-ly?" Sam cuts in, with his best lawyer impression. Nobody's sure who it's directed to - Dean, the Indian PM, Cas even? - but it doesn't matter because his eyebrows curve like parentheses of reasonability, hair tucked completely behind his ears - and everyone listens to this Sam.

"OKAY." Dean mumbles, sticking a needle in a doll. Or so, the author assumes he's doing.

Sam stares at him blankly for a beat, and then sighs into a smile. His hair's now long enough to curl magnificently at his neck. "You're too precious for the world." He strangles out, basically choking on the sentiment as he grabs Dean, and smushes him into a hug.

Cas smirks, smug.

"Oh, you." Sam pulls back enough to suddenly be in a maroon cardigan as he gazes at his brother through spectacled eyes of adoration.

Dean pulls him in then, bringing Sam down to his height - and Sam's hair escapes the ponytail grandly enough to fall over his face in perfect, messy locks.

The author's already weak heart stutters in her chest, and proceeds to give up entirely.

"Oh. No." Cas exclaims. Probably not for the author, but it's a sweet, borderline necromance-y coincidence. And then, unexplanably, he tilts his head and furrows his brow. "The whore."

Dean sighs, and facepalms. Sam changes into a grey button-up, and looks away into the distance.

The author daydreams too hard about being looked at like that, and loses it entirely.

Fin.

[spookysanta]

daddy’s girl. (e.d.)

Summary: he's been watching her and she knows it. He's yearning for her, and he’ll have her, but she has to finish high school first. 

Pairing: Ethan Dolan xReader

WARNINGS: age gap (38 vs 18), creep shit

SAY NOTHING IM WRITING A NEW SERIES JUST READ IT AND TELL ME IF IT SUCKS 

DISCLAIMER! PLEASE READ: in this, the girl (cairo) is of LEGAL age. he (ethan) refers to her as a child bc yanno.... he's almost 40 here. this isn't on any pedophile stuff, okay? just for clarification. AND as i was writing this i got jake gyllenhaal vibes from this, but then i figured ethan could be the “sexy dad” in the future (so to speak)—which is what i was kinda going for; like a man that’s older but is so irresistibly gorgeous, even young girls swoon over him.

UNEDITED

****

******

She'd caught his eye. 

And he doesn't know how it came to be this way; he thought he was done messing around like this ages ago. But here he was, a thirty-eight-year-old man, watching an eighteen-year-old girl cheer at his neice's high school's football game. 

She sees him though; as if he's staring into her soul. As she finishes her tumbling routine in the halftime show, her eyes dart in his direction and his never leave her. She shivers slightly--

Who is that man? she wondered, walking away from the field to distract herself. 

**

She stands at the cash register, swiping his items across the scanner. "Did you find everything okay?" she asked in a monotone voice, looking at the clock on the register's screen. 

"Yes, I did. Thank you." the man responded, fishing in his wallet for cash as he already knew how much two bottles of red wine cost. "Do you need to see ID?"

"Yes, I--" she paused, looking at the man for the first time during their interaction. This was the man from the football game! She couldn't have forgotten those pearly eyes that bore into hers, and definitely didn't forget the way he ironically made her feel when their eyes locked. "I-I do."

"You okay?" he asked with a chuckle as he handed her his driver's license. He knew exactly who she was, and after a bit of research, he knows that she's what he wants. And, likewise, he knew that she remembered him. That in itself was exciting because now he knew where she was from 9-2 every Saturday--which meant he'd be seeing her a lot more. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She glanced at the line forming behind him and shook her head at the idea of her confrontation. She took the card and read the birthdate carefully. "1980." she muttered, handing it back to him. "Your total's $18.20."

He handed her a $20, grabbing the bottles of wine by their necks and smirking. "Keep the change."

"Thank you." 

"You're welcome, Cairo. See you around."

**

She lay in her bed, wondering why this man clouded her thoughts. What was it about him that made him so intriguing? Yes, he was attractive, but he was more than twice her age--shouldn't that mean that he was repulsive to her? Should she shy away from this man and his beauty?

Ethan.

If there's anything she knew about men, it's that older men (well, boys, in her case) don't usually have the girl's best interest in mind. But no matter how many cons appear on this list, the only pro she seems to think of is the fact that he looked at her like he knew her already. His hazel eyes were almost magnetizing her brown ones to his gaze, and the energy was too strong to pull it away.

**

He's come to the realization that he's hooked on her.

He wants her, no--needs her. 

And he knows how crazy that sounds with all of the odds stacked against him (namely, her being a child by his comparison) but he'll admit they'd look absolutely perfect together. 

And there's nothing he won't do until they're in love.

**

day one.

She walked home from school every day. Three-fifteen on the dot, Monday through Friday. Sometimes, she takes the after-school bus after her cheer practices, and that drops her off on the same corner but at five-thirty. He sees her walk down Linden Avenue, then make a left on Conch Street, and then go into the tiny brick house at the end of the lively culdesac. Sometimes he sees her through her window at night, laying in her bed soundly. It takes everything in him each night to not climb up the big pine tree to the second floor, open the already unlocked window—she doesn't lock it anymore because the lock can get finicky at times and it can get quite hot in San Bernadino in May—and breathe in the same air as her.

Just once.

Just once, he wants to be there for her—hold her, kiss her, smell her, taste her.

Is that too much to ask?

Just one more month, he reminds himself as he perches himself on his porch chair, watching her walk into her home with her friend, Janelle.

He does not like Janelle.

Janelle has a tendency to be a bit manipulative when it comes to Cairo; she wants the best for her, of course. But she's always making Cairo go to parties that she doesn't want to go to, or do things that Cairo doesn't typically do.

Cairo's a good girl who doesn't need to be bombarded with social...ick.

"She's a good girl," he mumbled, palms set on his knees with white fingertips. "My good girl."

***

She continued her walk to the store like she usually does on Sunday mornings in the spring. Yes, she does work at the store, but why not stop by and visit her favorite co-workers while she picked up her favorite ice cream?

"Good morning, Edith!" she greeted to the elderly woman stood behind the customer service desk. She resembled Jane Goodall in a way; caring, generous, kind. "How are you today?"

"Hey, sweetie! I'm alright, hope you're doing well. Say 'hi' to Katherine for me!" she replied with a wave, going into the employee's lounge.

"Will do!" she wandered to the frozen food section, her coffee brown eyes set on the cookie dough ice cream in the freezer. With happy alarms blaring in her head, she grabbed a pint from the shelf, going immediately to the checkout line to pay for her dessert. "Hey Ricky." she said to the cashier.

"Hey, Cai." he responded, ringing up her ice cream and setting it on the counter. "$4.68. Got your employee ID on you?"

She fished through her wallet and came up emptyhanded. "Shoot. I must've left it at home." she sighed. "It's cool, I'll pay full price."

"Nah, I got you." he took a card out of his front pocket, swiped it, and put in his pin. "There ya go. $2.27."

"Thanks, Ky. I owe you one." She handed him a five dollar bill, keeping the cash fold of her wallet open so she could put her change in it.

"You know what you could do for me so we're even?" he opened the cash drawer, taking out her change and handing it to her.

"What?"

"Go to dinner with me." he wrote on her freshly printed receipt. "It doesn't have to be fancy, but if you're interested, you should hit me up sometime."

"Sure. I'd love to." she smiled, putting the receipt with her change and grabbing her ice cream off the counter. "We'll talk tonight?"

"Totally. See you around."

"See you!"

**

She entered the house again and put her ice cream in the fridge. "Ma!" she yelled into her mother's office as she passed it. "Ms. Edith at Ben's said 'hi'!"

"Aw, how sweet of her to think of me!" she said with a smile. "I'll have to send you by her house with a plate of cookies this week."

She groaned inwardly. Edith's a nice woman, but Cairo's mother, Katherine, does not conjure up her life-changing cookies on any given day. Which means that she would make a small batch—just enough for Edith and her husband, Clarke—and then, poof! No-one's going to see those cookies until Christmastime. Bounding up the staircase and into her bedroom, practically leaping onto her bed with a sigh.

Meanwhile, he was watching her still. He didn't even think to consider the idea of someone catching him stare at this girl, sat in the rocking chair on his front porch, watching her intently through a pair of zooming binoculars while she boredly scrolled through her phone. Quite frankly, he wouldn't care at all. If someone were to walk by and ask him what he was doing, he'd merely say: "Protecting my girl."

He doesn't give a damn if she took a glance out her window and saw a man—that man—staring back at her. Knowing her, which obviously he does, she'd probably scream for her mom and tell her mom to come and look because "there's a strange man" looking at her through her window. And then her mom would come and look but by then he'd be back in his home across the way from hers, in his bedroom, watching her panic through the telescope he'd set up.

That'd be a gift to himself, really. Because he knows deep within that she thinks about him. Even though maybe the thoughts are of worry or panic and not ones of admiration, all he cares about is the fact that he's invaded her thoughts just like she's invaded his.