#he wouldn't miss that for the world!!!!!!

[seasons-of-death]

bsf!rafe and reader miss each other

warnings: angst aka the one where rafe is in the doghouse. i wanted to try and write a bit of a dual-pov situation of the time after reader ended things, it's a bit experimental for me but i hope it's still enjoyable! this might be a bit melancholic but eh (also i baked two whole pies today let's go baker era i live alone idek what to do with em)

when you were hooking up rafe, every moment without him felt empty. like he completed you. that was partially what made you continue on with him for so long; you were worried that if he wasn't in your life, you'd constantly walk around with this hole in your chest, like a part of you was missing.

but you found that after you ended things, he wasn't the only thing on your mind all the time. sure, you missed him, but what you missed wasn't the sex, or even the almost-romantic part of your relationship, but his friendship. you missed the boy you told all your secrets to, the one who'd been your shoulder to cry on for as long as you could remember. but a part of you wasn't completely sure if that boy even existed anymore.

you knew that the boy who'd passed notes with you all throughout your middle school and high school years wouldn't do what he did to you. or the boy who let you stay at his house whenever your parents argued, and stay up with you trying to comfort you.

when you had been involved with him, you never told anyone; when your friends asked you where you always disappeared off to, you said you were just 'meeting up with a guy' and none of them really cared enough to pry, and only after did it end did you realize how shallow most of your friendships felt. none of them even noticed when you'd shut yourself away, or the fact that you started to distance yourself from everyone.

except for one.

one friday evening, the doorbell rang and you forced yourself to go open the door, only for it to reveal vivian, someone who you'd pretty much known since kindergarten, holding up two bottles of wine. "i'm not gonna leave before you tell me what's wrong with you." she said, and even though you knew she'd probably judge you for everything that went down, you also knew you couldn't hold onto it all.

and so the two of you ended up laying on your bed, drinking straight out of the bottle, with you recounting the whole story to her, without vivian interrupting you even once. and even though it was only one person, it made all the difference in the world.

"jesus, what a dick!" was the only thing he said when you were done, the two of you bursting into laughter.

but as time went by, you slowly started to miss him less and less, and as the marks he had littered all around your body started to fade, so did your longing for him.

sometimes you'd see him when you were out; it was mostly at the country club, or whenever one of your friends had convinced you to come to a party, and to let loose. but whenever you saw him, you never said a word to each other, you never even smiled. but for a brief moment, as you stared at one another across the room, it was as if it was just the two of you, lying on the floor of his living room, surrounded by beer bottles and used plastic cups, remnants of yet another party.

but as soon as one of you looked away, the moment faded away, like you two had never known each other. it was like he was never your first love.

and before you knew it, summer had come to an end, it had been three months since the night you ended things with him, the sky above you turning grey as you sat on the dock in front of your house with your feet in the cold water, when your phone started ringing, and for the first time in three months...

incoming call... rafe

and as you wondered what to do, a raindrop fell over the green circle displayed on your phone, as if telling you what to do, and so you took your phone into your hand, chewing on your bottom lip as you were thinking of whether to accept or decline.

to say that he wasn't good when it came to emotions and feelings would be an understatement when talking about rafe. most of the time the only thing he allowed himself to feel was anger, and so, when you walked out of the bathroom, the only thing he could do was stare at that locket, and even though he wanted to be angry, to start punching the bathroom sink until his hand broke, he couldn't. all he could do was stare at that damn locket, feeling like someone had punched all the air out of his lungs, like there just wasn't any anger left in him.

the day after you ended things with rafe, he broke up with sofia. for the next week the only thing he did was drink just to get the thoughts of you out of his head. for the week after that, all he did was think about you.

you needed your space, but he knew that every sunday you spent the afternoons playing tennis with one of your friends; so every sunday he'd drag his friends there on the premise of playing golf, just to get a glimpse of you; and unlike him, you looked fine, like nothing had ever happened between the two of you. he'd go out to any party he got wind of, just in case you showed up.

and whenever you noticed rafe's presence, when you looked straight at him, it was like the emptiness that had been in his chest since that night was slowly going away, like it was that night when you slept in his arms when he whispered "i love you." into your ear, hoping to god that you wouldn't hear, and now, the only thing he wished was for you to hear it even though he couldn't say it. but whenever you looked away from him, that emptiness came back.

rafe rarely drew anymore, not since he started working with his father, but now he found himself sketching images he had carved into his memory, ones of you sleeping in his bed, his sheets pulled up to cover your chest while your hair covered a good part of your face, ones with that look on your face when your face was flushed from alcohol when you were trying your hardest to find the words you were looking for when you were chattering about something you were passionate about.

and the next three months went in a cycle of drinking or throwing himself into the family business to forget about you, or finally giving in and thinking about you with that locket held in his large hand, and whenever he saw you, the more alright you seemed, and he kept wondering if that'd ever happen to him.

he was sitting in the office that formerly belonged to his father, his jaw clenched as he stared at your contact image, a picture of you petting a stray cat that lived around the island, obsessing over your contact something he'd been doing a lot lately, as if daring himself to call you. but before he could, he'd dropped his phone down onto the desk, rubbing his palms over his face with a deep sigh, telling himself to just focus on his work.

but rafe was drawn out of his thoughts of a familiar ringing, of one telling you that you were calling someone. and when he pulled his hands away from his eyes, they landed on his phone calling a familiar number.

and before he could hang up and pretend it never happened, the call was connected, and a soft voice on the other side simply said,

"rafe?"

[married-to-google-translater]

Malleus Requests (you can decide if he's Yandere or not) S / o finds out the mirror needs fixing and s / o should return to his / her world. But she / he doesn't want, she / he wants to stay with Malleus. s / o is then forcibly brought back into their world. When Malleus looks at her in the mirror, he only sees a very sad, depressed S / O. When a friend of S / o asks where her heart has gone because s / o has become absolutely emotionless, s / o replies: "This is with someone else ..." and tears run down

Malleus Draconia

This event would have been an accident. One of your friends had accidentally tripped and pushed you through the mirror before you could say you wanted to stay.

However, Malleus wouldn't care. That person would have been cursed with EVERY increase Malleus had learned over the years. Oh he would be really sad about this.

Malleus knew you wouldn't have wanted to send and leave him. He knew how much you would miss him and how much you would hurt. The things he saw through the mirror only confirmed his knowledge.

Malleus would definitely move the magic mirror to his room. No one would dare to oppose him.

Even if you didn't know it, Malleus would watch over you whenever he could. You might not see it but he would be with you.

At first, Malleus thought this would be an easy task. Crowley would have found the spell and surely he could use it too. Malleus' expression is not happy when Crowley tells him (over the phone) that the spell was a one-time thing.

Crowley wouldn't really dare say this to Malleus' face.

Malleus would try ANYTHING to get you back. Even bribing/threatening the magic mirror. Too bad the Magic Mirror doesn't care about the borderline Yandere lizard's money or threats.

The worse condition you get, the faster Malleus works and the more irritated he would become. How can he be one of the strongest if finding such an easy spell is difficult?

Malleus wouldn't rest until you were together again. After all, he loves you. Sometimes you have to do "impossible" things because of love.

[strawb3rrystar]

Subservient.

Pairing: Kai Anderson x Fem! Blogger! Reader

Summary: The art of becoming obsessed with a cult leader.

Warnings: Obsession, home invasion, ownership kink, illusions to sex, not proofread

Word count: 1.3k

✰Masterlist

When you first saw one of Councilman Kai Anderson's speeches you were immediately drawn in. There was just something about him. Not his looks, but the way he carried himself. The trajectory of his voice, his command, shook you to your core. To you, he was absolutely perfect. He was everything to you, your reason to wake up in the morning. Soon, you started attending every protest and speech, thinking you were just another face in the crowd. But Kai noticed you, how you were always around, towards the back, with your little camera.

Yet, Kai didn't expect to ever talk to you, but here you were, in his house. He was just getting ready for another campaign, crisp suit, white button up, chewing back a few Adderall while he practiced his speech in the mirror. Then a click and a flash. He whipped around to see you standing there, your hands practically shaking with excitement. "Do I know you?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

You shake your head, a small twitch happening in Kai's eyebrows. One that anyone else would miss, but not you. "Then who are you and why are you taking photos of me?" You introduce yourself, mentioning how the pictures were for your fan blog. Kai was surprised to say the least. Out of all the people in the world who would follow and blog about him, he never would've expected someone who looks like you. You were beautiful, with your camera clutched to your side. And it was a bit hard to admit, but you were captivating.

Something about you intrigued him. The way you held his gaze, never backing down from him. All the other people just looked at him with admiration. They all looked at him and believed his every word. You were different though. "So everyone can see that blog of yours, right?" He questions, a small idea forming in his head. "Yes," you reply, a small smirk appeared on his face. He was interested, almost amused. "And what would you write about me?"

Your brain seemed to short-circuit when he spoke directly to you. "Um.. I would write about your speech, your campaign.. anything I can really." Kai chuckled slightly. A deep sound that sent chills down your back. He could tell that made you squirm a little inside, and he was enjoying it. "Anything?" He questioned, taking a step towards you and closing the distance between you. "You wouldn't write anything... negative, would you?"

"No. Never." You answer without hesitation. Kai continued to step closer to you, he was so close that when you breathed all you could smell was his cologne. "And why is that, hm?" He asked, his voice was just above a whisper now, as he looked down at you. "You're incredible... perfect in every way." His smirk grew into a sly smile from hearing that. Kai was used to compliments from the women at his campaign. But hearing it coming from you was different. "Is that so?" Kai moved even closer to you, if that was even possible. He towered over you, his head ducking down slightly so he was only a couple of inches from your face.

You nod your head slowly, seeing you all flustered and in awe of him was something he was starting to enjoy more and more each time. He had to keep reminding himself that he usually didn't do this. He wasn't the kind of guy who got into relationships, or even flings. But there was something about you. "And what made you start this blog about me in the first place, hm?" He questioned, his eyes never leaving yours. "Your message spoke to me."

Kai's smile widened. He had heard that so many times before, but this was different. Something about the way you said it, your voice, made him want to hear it again. "Yeah?" He leaned even closer to you, his breath washing over you. "And what exactly made my message speak to you, hm, beautiful?" You almost whine when he calls you that. "Your values.. are like mine. And I haven't met anyone who thinks the same way I do."

"Well, they say great minds think alike. So I guess that must make you as great as me, hm?" Kai teased. He was a bit more cocky with you, in the best way. "No. I could never be as great as you." You immediately shoot him down. Kai chuckled at that, shaking his head. He had never met someone so willing to give their own dignity away like that. "Careful, princess." He said, reaching up and running a finger against your jaw for a brief second. "You keep that up and you’ll end up worshiping me."

"It's too late for that." Kai hears the words you mumbles and a smirk appears on his face all over again. You were so flustered by him, and he loved every minute of it. "Yeah?" He questioned, tilting your head to he could see your face clearly. "Then that makes you, what? My biggest fan?" You nod your head rapidly, wearing that title like a medal. A small pang of excitement shoots through him when you do that. Out of all the women that followed him through the protests, you were the most obsessed with him. "You’re gonna be such a good girl for me, aren’t you?" He runs his hand across your jaw again, this time more slowly. You were too fun to tease.

It was almost like you were a puppet, and he was pulling the strings. He could have you wrapped around his finger any way he wanted. "And when I call, you’re gonna answer, aren’t you?" His voice is a whisper now, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw again as he tilts your head further. "Yes, I will." Kai chuckled again, a deep sound that sounded almost sinister. "Such a good girl. So subservient. I could get used to that." As he spoke, his hand moved from your jaw and started tracing down your neck. His long fingers trailing against your skin as they went.

His eyes were watching as you bit your lip. Your body was making involuntary reactions to him. He knew he was making you squirm on the inside. You were at a total disadvantage. Completely under his control, and you loved it. You wanted it. "You like being my good girl?" You practically moan out an agreement. Kai grins, thinking you were the perfect toy to have fun with. "Hmm?" His hand moved up to your hip. "Did I hear a moan?"

You quietly mumble out an apology. His hand gripped your hip, and he pulled you closer to him. So close that your chest was flush against his. "Don’t apologize, sweetheart." He whispers in your ear. "A good girl doesn’t apologize for her body’s natural reactions, does she?" You shake your head in response. Kai smiles again, you were so easy to train. It was honestly adorable to see you give in to him so easily. "No, she doesn’t. She just does what her owner tells her to do. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?"

"Yes." you answer, Kai humming into your ear. His hand moving down from your hip to grab your ass, pulling you even closer against him. "And you’ll do everything I, your owner, tells you to do, won’t you, pretty girl?" You agree, his grin grows into a full smile. "Perfect." He whispers against your neck. His lips graze the skin there for just a moment, sending a shiver down your spine. "Do you have a phone, little lamb?"

You take out your phone and hand it to him without hesitation. Kai is proud as you quickly get out your phone, showing him that obedience. Reaching out, he takes it from you and opens the dial pad. He types a few numbers, hits save, and hands it back to you. "There. Now you’re in my control, aren’t you, sweetheart?" He questions. "Yes, sir." You answer, Kai giving your head a pat. "Good girl. Now, off you go." He shoos you off, but you were sure that you could be expecting a call tonight.

Star's notes -> I'm saving most of my smut writing for kinktober tbh. Also this is inspired by @marchsfreakshow's Kai bot :3

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @alittleobsessedbitch @evanpeterspeter @theweepingvulcan91

@jazz-berry @hoe4kai | Join the taglist

[hajimesh]

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐skyfall. geto suguru

part one. sunrise (her)

⥅ word c. 4,411

⥅ warnings. fem!reader, non sorcerer au (suguru is a grad student), established relationship (suguru and reader live together), mentions of drinking and smoking, domestic fluff, unreliable narrator

𝄢♭bloom ‐ the paper kites / not about angels ‐ birdy / beautiful baby ‐ elizabeth

Before meeting Suguru, you never understood the hype behind sunsets. People often label them as 'majestic' and take endless pictures of the same orange sky when it should be general knowledge that the real beauty resides within the quiet mornings, the world stirring awake and the sky tinting itself in soft hues of blue and pink like a Monet painting. No sunset could ever compare to the crisp and refreshing air that comes with the break of dawn. 

So, if someone were to ask you, you’d pick sunrises in a heartbeat.

Perhaps what makes sunrises better is that you get to see him and his dark hair —that puts the night sky itself to shame— as soon as you wake up, walking down the street with his characteristic hunched over frame as he kicks the rocks standing in his way. He hasn't seen you (which is rare, he's always trying to catch your attention as soon as he rounds the corner of your street), sitting by the open window just two floors above him. But when he finally does, purple eyes stare blankly at you.

"Who–" You watch him squint his eyes, stopping abruptly, and your grin only grows. It takes him two ragged breaths and a gasp to finally address you by your name, "what are you doing up there?"

You wave at him as you lean over the windowsill. He can't be serious, you think to yourself, "I live here, Suguru."

He seems tired, rubbing at his eyes before rushing to the building’s entrance and disappearing from your sight. It wouldn't be a surprise if he had a rough night, suddenly making you feel bad for not making sure you had a warm cup of coffee to welcome him back.

The apartment door opens and Suguru's silhouette slips through, his keys hitting loudly the porcelain bowl by the entrance. You don't even have to think twice, standing up from your spot by the window and meeting him halfway in what has to be the tightest hug you have ever gotten from him.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

He's nuzzling his face against your neck, breathing in the fresh scent of your body wash and leaving a kiss on your skin. His hold on you is so tight yet comforting, just as the silence of the world at six in the morning.

“I know,” your fingers thread through his hair, realizing it's longer than you remembered, “would you like to sleep now or have breakfast first?”

“Cuddles.”

You roll your eyes and tug the hairs at the nape of his head softly, “That wasn’t an option.”

Still in his arms, he guides you towards the bed placed at the corner of the apartment, and once you're under the covers, it's you who now hides your face in his neck.

“Why are you still up?” he asks with his lips against the crown of your hair.

For a moment, you choose to focus on his warm breath caressing your skin. If you tell him you were waiting for him, it's very likely that you’ll end up being scolded.

Shrugging, you nuzzle closer to his chest, seeking more of his warmth, “couldn’t sleep without you.”

“Is your insomnia back?”

“Think so,” you mumble, “but I got to greet you back, so I don't mind.”

It's silent for a while, the only sounds coming from your breaths and the noise of cars driving down the street. The world is slowly waking up, clouds that resemble cotton candy floating in the sky and a light, chill breeze coming through the open window.

“Sugu, you should sleep.”

“I will,” he breathes out, his hold on you tightening for a moment, “now that I have you in my arms.”

“Oh my god, that was so cheesy!”

His chest reverberates with his laugh, lips tugging upwards as he sweeps his tongue across his teeth in a cheeky way. There's no way your heart can watch and not melt as he does that. 

“You never complained before," he tries to defend himself, his smirk coming back as he leans closer to whisper in your ear, "and I know you love it.”

You look up at him, eyes gleaming under the sunlight, and you swear you haven't felt this happy in weeks, “I love you.”

A mix of emotions seems to swirl in his eyes, staring back at yours weirdly. It's hard to pinpoint what's going through his mind, but you can tell that whatever it is, it's troubling him.

“I love you so much more.”

—

It's almost eight pm, and Suguru hasn't woken up.

“Sugu,” you whisper, leaning closer to his face as you search for a sign of consciousness, “you’ll be late.”

“Babe, c’mon… five more minutes?” he groans, voice throaty and laced with sleep.

“We've been sleeping all day!”

His arms circle your waist, pulling you on top of him, “s’all your fault, I was dreaming of you,” he mumbles with his eyes still closed.

“How is that my fault?” you bite back, but when you don't hear a reply from him, you lift your head and rest your chin on his chest.

He fell asleep again.

Removing yourself from his hold, you crawl on top of him until you're so close that your lips brush against his. 

“You'll be late for work,” you start littering kisses all over his jaw and watch as his brows furrow slightly, “I shouldn’t have let you nap after we had lunch.”

Still half asleep, he cups your face between his hands and pulls you down for a kiss. It's lazy and a bit clumsy, you blame it on the fact that he just woke up. But after getting a taste of him, you're tempted to ask him to stay.

With his hands still at the sides of your face, he pulls your mouths apart and gazes lovingly at your face, brushing a few strands of hair away from it. Suguru's eyes always make your knees falter, and your heart tremble, especially when they focus on yours.

“How did you sleep?” he asks before squinting his eyes at you, “wait– did you even sleep?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did. No need to start nagging at me.”

He yawns, stretching his arms above his head while you climb off of him, “I need to shower.”

“Yeah, you stink,” you fake a gag only to squeal a second later when he pinches your sides.

Finally, he gets on his feet, and you watch your boyfriend get closer to you. Sometimes you forget how imposing his presence can be, his height and large frame suddenly making you feel small under his stare.

“Shower with me,” he rasps out in your ear, hands grabbing you by your hips as he begins to nip at your neck. 

“O-Oh?” with a raised eyebrow and warm cheeks, you nod bashfully and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, “lead the way.”

The sound of your giggles fills the small apartment as he carries you bridal style towards the bathroom, his own laugh joining yours.

—

“Don’t forget your wallet!”

He's running late, just as you predicted. 

With his hair still damp from the shower, he runs from one side to the other collecting his stuff, “what would I do without you?”

Shaking your head, you watch as he finally makes his way to the door and picks up his coat.

“Work hard! I'll be waiting for you.”

Suguru stops abruptly, his hand already on the doorknob as he grimaces, “I should probably tell you not to, but… ugh fuck it, I’ll be selfish.”

He leans forward to kiss you, his free hand holding you by the back of your neck as the other remains on the door knob. Unfortunately, the kiss ends as quickly as it began.

In your daze, you barely have a chance to smile back at him as he waves goodbye.

“See you at sunrise!”

“Again? ”

You grimace when Suguru’s loud voice disrupts the peaceful morning. It’s still pretty early, the streets empty and void of other souls besides nature blooming around you, waking up to another spring morning. 

But besides the white cat climbing down the roof and the trail of ants on the wall, it’s just you and him.

Your heart warms up in familiar delight, and you wonder if there will ever be a day in which your chest won’t feel like expanding and shrinking at the same time just at the sight of his handsome smile. A small fit of giggles escapes you as you shake your head disapprovingly, a finger placed on your lips signaling him to be quiet.

“Again.”

Blowing him a kiss from your spot, you snicker as you watch his grin widen, his long legs moving faster towards the building. Good thing he seems as eager as you are, you’ve always hated how long it takes him to reach the front door of your apartment.

As soon as he gets inside, he comes face to face with you and immediately goes for your lips, both mouths meeting in a soft kiss as you stand at the door.

Your surroundings seem to blur around you, his scent invading your mind and his touch melting your skin. The emotions stirring in you are so strong that almost have you in tears. It’s becoming too much, and yet you refuse to part from his lips, knowing that it would only make room for the emptiness again.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, eyelashes fluttering as you slowly open your eyes and gaze at him, his tender gaze already fixed on you.

“I smell food,” he murmurs against your lips, pecking your nose afterward, “waffles?”

Humming, you bury your face in his chest, allowing his warmth to envelop you, “you probably haven’t had a decent meal in weeks.”

His hand rubs circles on your back as he chuckles. You really don’t want to let go of him, but the food’s growing cold. So, against your will, you squirm away from his grasp and start dragging him by his hand.

The kitchen is just a few steps away, a small white table sitting in the center with a fake succulent on it, and two plates full of freshly cooked food. It took you a quick trip to the grocery store since there only seemed to be pizza leftovers in the fridge (quite unusual of him, you’re actually planning on asking him about it later).

“What do you think?”

His eyebrows raise slightly and his mouth parts in quiet awe, his purple irises shining with hues of amber thanks to the sunlight filtering through the window. Those same eyes suddenly switch from the food to your face, and your knees falter, there’s a glee in them that you haven’t seen in a long time, and it fills your insides with butterflies until they threaten to spill out of your mouth.

“I fucking love you. You know that, right?” he says after cupping your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering and refusing to look away from you.

The laugh that bubbles in your chest only makes his grin widen, raw adoration and happiness emanating from the both of you. You leave a light peck of affection on his jaw and then push him toward his seat.

“You’re gonna love me even more once you taste it.”

“Impossible.”

The dumb smile refuses to leave your lips, your cheeks hurting and muscles cramping, but that’s Suguru’s effect on you: his mere presence is enough to make you smile in a love struck daze.

He groans after taking the first bite, “this,” he says after swallowing, pointing at the half-eaten waffle with his fork, “tastes heavenly. I missed your cooking so much, baby.”

Taking the compliment with a bashful smile, you choose to focus on your food and begin to eat as well. 

“I noticed you’re walking to work now. Did something happen to your car?” you ask trying to start some small talk and at the same time, it was one of the many questions you have sitting at the back of your mind.

“I'm trying this new thing called being eco-friendly.”

A loud gasp leaves your throat, “You’re such a hypocrite! If you cared about that, you wouldn’t ask for straws at restaurants!”

“Hey,” he points a finger at you, “that’s for the turtles, not the planet.”

“Huh? Even worse?!”

The amusement in his features only enhances his attractive looks, even if it’s so early in the morning and right after having a night shift, he always manages to remind you what a handsome man he is. You huff and pout involuntarily, it truly isn’t fair.

“Relax, I use the metal straws you gave me,” he reaches out across the table to pinch your cheek, “I'm not that evil.”

Still with a slight pout on your lips, you stand up and go to the fridge in order to fill your drinks. 

“Could you pass me a Red Bull?” he calls from behind you, and you frown.

“Suguru, it’s seven in the morning.”

He hums, “Yeah, and I don’t want to fall asleep during my 9 am lecture.”

“Then drink cold water,” you offer, closing the door of the fridge after fetching the jar of juice for you and filling his glass with water, “you’ll get an arrhythmia one of these days.”

You see him sigh once he sees you return with no sight of a Red Bull in your hands, but you aren’t backing down. With a pointed look, you silently stand your ground until he seems to give up.

“Fine, no energy drinks.” 

You nod, relieved that he’s finally listening to you. God, when did he become that stubborn? 

He takes a sip of his water, a tiny smirk stretching his lips around the rim of the glass as he stares at you, “I’ll just buy a coffee on my way to class, then.”

“Suguru!”

“What?”

—

Watching Suguru sleep has always comforted you. A dreamy sigh leaves your lips as you observe the way his dark eyelashes rest above his cheekbones, hiding those beautiful eyes you fell in love with just a few years ago.

It hasn’t been long since you woke up, the room dark and barely illuminated by the setting sun. The shadows of the trees dance all over the walls as they sway thanks to the wind, a low whistle coming from the windows as the wind picks on its strength and clashes against the glass.

You don’t think it can get any more peaceful than that.

In a matter of minutes, the sky begins to turn darker, which means he has to be up soon so he can make it to work on time. Moving closer to his side, you peck his cheek and whisper a soft ‘hi’ once you feel his arm drape over your waist.

“Hello, pretty girl,” his voice is hoarse and heavy with sleep, a lazy smirk gracing his lips. That is until he notices the pendant hanging from your neck, “where did you find that?” 

Your hand automatically wraps around it, smiling to yourself as you look down to examine it, “Oh! It was in your drawer. So weird because I thought I had it with me.”

“You must’ve left it.”

His tone turns dry, which makes you look up from your chest and notice the distant look in his eyes, immediately confusing you. Weird, he seemed fine just seconds ago?

“Do you remember when you gave it to me?” you shuffle closer, wanting to keep at bay whatever thoughts he’s having since it’s clear they aren’t pleasant, “honestly, I still had my doubts about you… back then, I mean.”

“Why?” His lips turn into the cutest pout you’ve ever seen, and it almost makes you lose your train of thought.

How is he so cute? You think to yourself. Even after three years since you met, all it takes is a smile from him, and you’re putty in his hands.

“I never thought you’d like me back, and I was waiting for someone to tell me it was a bet or a dream.”

And it had truly felt like one. As silly as it sounded, it all seemed too good to be true, which meant you were bound to have your doubts. The good morning texts, walking to class together, and spending hours in his dorm studying for your exams; Suguru behaved like a true gentleman, through and through.

Falling in love with him has to be the easiest thing you've ever done. He captured your heart in a matter of weeks, and a year later, on your first anniversary, clasped a necklace around your neck—giving you a piece of him to carry with you.

He caresses your cheek lovingly, bringing you back from the lovely memories before speaking, “I know I was a broke college student, but I wasn't that broke to make our relationship a bet.”

You quickly stand up to pick up a pillow and throw it at him, laughing as he scrunches up his face before he receives the hit. 

“Asshole.”

Suguru laughs and watches you walk away once he removes the pillow from his head, answering back with that sweet voice of his, “sweetheart.”

“We should do something special,” you say as you turn your head over your shoulder to look at him, the last rays of sun hitting your body and casting an ethereal glow around you, “our anniversary is coming up.”

He seems to be in a daze for a second, his stare fixed on you and an emotion you had yet to see from him brimming from his eyes.

“Yeah, we should.”

“Alright,” Suguru looks so funny with his hands on his hips while standing in the middle of the empty street, “as much as I love coming home to you waiting for me, you need to get some sleep.”

You dismiss his comment with a wave of your hand, focusing instead on the hues of blue shining behind him.

“Whatever.”

Less than two minutes later, he’s finally in your arms, his embrace tight as he rocks your bodies softly to the tune of your morning playlist.

“If I'm asleep, I can't give you your good morning kiss, y’know?”

He’s getting tired of your excuses, and it’s so easy to tell by the way he no longer fights you. However, that doesn't stop him from punishing you for it. 

Your vision turns upside down as he throws you over his shoulder and carries you to bed, blatantly ignoring your complaints.

“I think it’s time I tell you the story of a woman that refused to sleep at night,” he settles you under the covers, his arm resting under your neck while the other pinches your cheek, “so the devil himself came to visit her.”

“Suguru…” you trail off, a sense of dread quickly creeping over you, “don’t.”

Ignoring you, he continues, “she liked to sit by the window–”

“Noooo, stop! I'll sleep, I promise!”

“Don’t be rude and stop interrupting me,” he squishes your cheeks together and stares at you with fake anger, “also, I don't believe you anymore.”

There's nothing else for you to do but pout, knowing he's going to use your fear of ghosts to his advantage.

“As I was saying, she sat by the window until one night a group of people stopped by. They gave her a box and told her to keep it, and that they’d come back for it the next day.”

By now, you have your face tucked against his arm, hiding half of it, while the blanket covers your ears.

“However, in the morning, she opened the box and found a dead cat,” he doesn’t even need a dramatic pause to have you gasping in surprise, a cold chill running all over your body, “a priest told her that the dead were trying to curse her since she was disrupting their time to roam the living world, so he advised her to get a living cat in the box and return it.”

Where does Suguru get all his crazy stories? You have no idea. But this one took the ball out of the park.

His face is still serious as he finishes the story, “they showed up that night, three in the morning sharp, and asked for the box. She returned it with the cat inside, and luckily they left her alone.” his tone quickly switches to a chirpy one and smiles, “that’s why you should sleep at night!”

“Suguru, you’re so mean,” you whine, “what if they show up? You know I like staying up at night!

“Not my problem.”

A slap to his shoulder with your hand comes as an immediate response.

“Ow! Who’s being mean now?” he rubs the spot you hit, but he’s so close to losing it, his eyes crinkling as he tries not to laugh.

“You asked for it,” you reply in a low mumble, and he finally gives in to the hilariousness of the situation.

“C’mere, baby. Let’s sleep,” he sees your cheeks squished against the pillow and pinches them, cooing at you at the same time, “so cute.”

Like a spell, you feel your eyelids become heavy, and you find yourself wrapped in his arms, his scent lulling you to a state of calmness.

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

—

Suguru's hoodie sits on the bed as he gets ready for another shift. You’ve been watching him get ready for the past ten minutes, and you don't think you'll ever get tired of it.

“How’s 'toru?” you ask, not remembering when was the last time you saw your boyfriend’s best friend. Just like him, he also worked the night shifts at the bar while balancing his last year in grad school, “I don’t think I've seen him around.”

Satoru practically lived in your apartment, loving how you always spoil him and side with him. To this day, Suguru says he regrets introducing him to you.

He leans down to your level and whispers, “you know how he gets during finals,” his fingers grasp a few strands of your hair to play with and doesn't say anything else.

“Well, tell him to come visit, so he can rest a bit. Also, he promised to watch a romcom every Saturday with me.”

This finally gets his attention, his eyebrows raising in interest, “why can’t you watch it with me?”

“You said you didn’t want to,” you shrug, “too cheesy for your liking or some shit like that.”

Suguru stands up to his full height again and grabs his hoodie, almost ready to go to the bar, “I'll bring popcorn when I get back, how’s that sound?”

You follow him to the door, watching as he slips his shoes on before turning around to face you, “are you sure? I know it's not the kind of genre you usually like to watch.” 

“I won't let a movie stop me from spending time with my girlfriend,” he smiles and kisses your lips with a long and noisy peck that makes your heart happy, “and we are playing Mario Kart after.”

“But I suck at Mario Kart!” 

“Exactly.”

—

It’s almost time for Suguru to come home and since the last few days have felt like the honeymoon phase when you moved in together, you decide you should spoil him with warm tea and a few of his favorite pastries. 

As you make sure to turn off the stove and place the kettle safely on top of it, you hear the familiar jiggle of keys at the door. He steps in with his shoulders slumped and his eyes red, a very unusual sight that, truthfully, scares you a bit.

You walk up to him with the intent of helping him get rid of his clothes, to comfort him, but a particular smell catches your attention.

“You smoked,” it wasn’t a question.

He grimaces in return, “I'll go brush my teeth.”

You follow him to the bathroom, observing him splash water on his face before picking up his toothbrush.

“Rough night?”

He looks at you through the mirror and stares at your reflection for what feels like an eternity, but then he just shrugs, places his toothbrush back next to yours, and exits the bathroom.

“You could say so.”

“Can you believe you’re almost done with your master's? You're graduating this semester, right?”

As soon as you see him nod, you beam and clap your hands together.

“We should celebrate! Is the bottle of white wine still in the fridge?” but with a shake of his head, you have your answer, “then let’s go to the store, my treat! I'll get you your favorite beers too.”

“Isn’t it too early?” he takes a look at his watch and indeed it is early, barely past seven in the morning, “and I don't drink.”

Your smile falters a bit, confused at his last statement, “since when?”

“A few months ago,” he kisses the top of your head before pouring the boiling water in a cup.

You drop the subject and choose to focus on something else, excited to see his new future approaching, “what's the plan, then? Moving to a bigger place?”

His smile turns into a sad one and shakes his head, “I want us to stay here.”

It feels like someone just threw a bucket of cold water at you, your senses sharper than ever and your mind free of the fog that clouded it. It's unsettling how it's all laced with a hint of dread, no longer being able to smile until you make sure he faces your reality.

“You can’t.”

The answer is immediate, his body turning rigid and the defensiveness radiating off of him almost palpable.

“Why not?” he retaliates, his tone harsh and cold, “we’ve been living here since we graduated, you like this place.”

So that was the reason? A fond smile settles on your lips, and a bittersweet feeling takes over you. Pushing his cup aside, you move closer to him, your hands cupping his cheeks and making him look at you.

Like a switch, Suguru’s eyes fill with tears, glistening like the prettiest amethyst, even though the sight breaks your heart. You have never seen him so broken, your own heart aching at the sight of your boyfriend on the verge of breaking down in your arms. 

But you can’t drag this on and keep fooling yourselves.

“It's time to let go, Suguru.”

End of part one.

[lost-in-fandoms]

https://www.tumblr.com/thicciardo/761905055702122496?source=share

Having big thoughts about Daniel being a photographer and Max being still a F1 driver kajgkajgksjjg. Maybe Daniel needs the money so he takes a job being a F1 photographer and it's not his passion exactly but it pays well. He is going to take pictures of cars going vroom, travel everywhere and being paid for it (so he can take pics of what he really loves. What it is? I don't know).

But he didn't know Max. Like, he was aware that Max was F1 world champion??? But he didn't expect Max to be so breathtakingly beautiful. So maybe he has a little crisis about it. Idksugid. I have to go to sleep but ESIIIIII DANIEL BEING A PHOTOGRAPHER 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Hello lovely I miss you!!! I have been having big thoughts about this since I saw your ask last night, but I only have this little thing to offer. Might revisit in the future because I love this idea very much <3

Daniel doesn't exactly know how he finds out about the job offer. He thinks maybe Blake mentioned it to him, having heard about it from a friend of a friend, but it's not really important.

It wouldn't be a bad gig: being able to travel the world, mingling with famous people, filling his portfolio, and getting paid for it. Sure, cars and millionaires aren't exactly his preferred subjects, but he can look past it for that kind of salary and perks.

So he goes over his CV, trying to make himself sound more professional than he feels, and sends it. You miss every chance you don't take and all that.

He's not expecting to be called back, to be honest. Even fattening his portfolio with all the people photos he has, good or less good, he knows it's mostly wildlife and nature, not exactly what a formula 1 team might look for, and yet, two weeks later, he wakes up to an email with three suggested dates for an online interview and a we'd be excited to offer you a position as soon as possible.

And three weeks after that, he's stepping on a plane, flight fully paid and brain already adding up his new salary to the savings in his bank account.

--

The scanner beeps when Daniel puts his pass against it, a thrill of excitement traveling down his spine at the small sound, and then he finds himself in the paddock.

It's still early, so it's not as crowded as it will for sure become later, but it still makes him think of the savannah, people milling around minding their business, swayed from time to time by the sudden arrival of a celebrity or a driver, circles forming and breaking, flocks in the grass.

It settles his mind to think about this as another wildlife shoot, as if this wasn't a stepping stone towards his dream, but the open door to it already, and he makes himself smile by taking a picture of Lewis Hamilton like he would of a leopard, half hidden behind a plant, light catching his earring like a fleeting spot. Even the cars have something animal about them, growling engines and opening wings, wheels pushing the ground like running deer.

The Red Bull hospitality building (a waterhole, his brain suggests) welcomes him with air conditioning and handshakes, both from people he's met already the one time he has gone to the factory, and from strangers, too many names being thrown at him to try and remember them.

And then there's Max Verstappen.

Daniel hadn't met him at the factory. He knows who he is, obviously. Even if formula 1 isn't his preferred flavor of motorsport, he is not completely clueless about it, and he had brushed up his knowledge before coming here, just to try and make sure he doesn't embarrass himself. And yet, it is different to meet him in person.

Daniel had watched two videos of him to prepare himself: one about his racing, and one interview. The racing had been incredible. The interview had been so awkward and stiff Daniel had spent several minutes looking at the ceiling, trying to think about how to justify his yet-to-be-shot photos being shit without saying your driver is the worst model I've ever seen.

He doesn't look bad, of course he doesn't, he is actually quite handsome, but there's such a stiffness and coldness around him, one that screams rude entitled bastard from a mile away, and Daniel does not work well with that. He has actually been wondering if he had been chosen, with his warm toned photos and his soft focus, just to try and soften his edges a little.

So he's not surprised by the firmness of the handshake, or the quick Max as an answer to Daniel's hello I'm Daniel, it's great to meet you!, both exactly what he had been expecting, but then Max smiles and suddenly Daniel's fingers are itching for his camera.

Max's eyes crinkle when he smiles.

His cheeks bunch up, plush lips stretching wide, the freckle Daniel had already noticed almost disappearing, and suddenly it's prairie crocus in the alpine tundra, color and spring impossibly breaking the cold.

Daniel wants to capture the wrinkles by his eyes in golden light, wants to steal the sparkle in the blue, frame it like sunshine on the ocean, wants to take the blush on his cheek and print it, press his fingertips to every magnified pore. He can't wait to see him put on his helmet, wants to see the arch of his nose framed by the visor.

Suddenly, from mostly neutral bystander, he's turned into avid fan, desperately wishing Max wins, to shoot him through champagne drops.

Maybe this job will be his easiest one yet, after all.

[pilot-boi]

White Knight Time Travel idea : People are suspecting..

Jaune and Weiss are at the Vytal Festival , each one with their respective teams , their mission has gone..well.. so far. Even without trying to change so much some things never change like Team CVFY and Prof.Port saving the city or Ruby meeting Penny...

But that doesn't matter compared to the titanic work they would have to do during this specific moment..it was now or never

~Weiss Side~

Ruby:WE DID IIIT!!!!....Anyone esle is starving?....

Weiss listened to Ruby and Blake's chat from the side , each time they have this small moments the more she thinks how everyone took Beacon's days from granted

Having to relieve the fight against Team ABRN made her notice how..unprepared they were ; even herself with her "Competent" perfomance wasn't still not enough to face that monster..

Weiss..

The Grimm entering Beacon..

Weiss..

The Witch's inner circle playing right under their noses..

WEISS..

Pyrrha and Penny along many other students being casualties of the..

WEISSS!

Weiss:W-W-What?!

Yang: Your scroll is ringing , shouldn't you answer it?

Weiss noticed her scroll , the contact named "FATHER"..

Right..her time at Beacon was almost up..

Weiss:I will call him later , thanks for making me know Yang..

The Blonde Brawler has noticed her friend weird..this last few day , she can't say why..but it's there , spacing out of chats most of the time or reacting to certain words like Destiny , Maiden or even mentioning locations like Haven Academy can get her all shaky

Right now Ice Queen is looking at her Sis talking with Emerald and her silent friend like she's trying way too hard to keep herself civil , her face may not show it but that tense posture and hands behind shouted something was wrong

And to say the last person she saw acting this way her Dad after..her Supermom left was all she needed to know , Ice Queen's hiding something and she will find out

~Jaune's side~

Jaune did miss Beacon , the academy.. , but coming right back wouldn't make it any better..quite the contrary it shows him how somethings must remain as memories..

The Vytal Festival just started and the mood seems festive enough for him to enjoy a little. Children playing around , teens being themselves truly a moment to breathe fresh air

Miss : Gather around as I tell the story of the Girl who fell through the World!

Jaune tenses hearing that , it's just a woman reading a story to a bunch of kids..nothing dangerous..

Yet..

He takes a look at his armour , clean not rusted..his face is still young and Crocea Mors is still complete..

Ren: Jaune?

Jaune:W-What?!

Nora: You have been standing there for a while , did the story peak your interest? Alyx's story is a classic! The Curious Cat is my favorite character! So mischevious!

If looks could kill , Nora's smile would have been erased a while ago..

Jaune:That Cat is nothing but troubles..

Nora:What? Don't tell me you are a fan of the Red Prince? Or the Rusted Knight?

Sensing hostility , Ren tried to change the topic..

Ren:Why don't we go with Pyrrha? She's saved us a nice spot in that Mistralian restaurant.

Both teammates agree , Nora leaves because she has won another petty argument..but Jaune seemed so personal about it..The Girl who fell through the World is just a Children's story..why is he so defensive about it?

Lie Ren is someone who can read the room quite well and to his knowledge..there's something wrong with Jaune..

He acts like..an adult sometimes , there's nothing wrong with that but it seems off..

Even their stategies , they are a group of Four , Team JNPR..but Jaune always acts like only Nora and him are part of the team

Ren even hears his silent sobs when he has nightmares , the words "Cinder" "Kill" "Penny" "Pyrrha" is all he has as evidence , trying to make sense of said word it would be something like

Cinder will kill Pyrrha and Penny

That sounded so..dumb , Cinder is a student along her team but he would ask Jaune later right now they have a fight to win

👀👀👀

So many of these WK Time travel asks are from their POV, I LOVE this look into their friends’ view

[funpolishfox]

So, madness in Elden Ring only affects player-type characters, which means you can only proc madness on Gideon, when it comes to main game bosses. Of course, it's usually not a big deal, since frenzied flame is still good damage source and there are plenty other things you can proc on bosses. I don't think, there's specific lore reason as to why bosses as such Malenia or even Morgott cannot be frenzied (probably being able to proc frenzy animation on such bosses would make fights easier). But I was thinking- what if Frenzied Flame could affect other bosses? I'm speculating now more in lore way than gameplay way. After all, Frenzy Flame is all about despair, pain and misery- we can see it with Edgar after Irina's death and with merchants. It's about wanting to end all the pain, about wanting to burn down everything, so you cannot be hurt any further. It plays on emotions, especially love and care, as such case was with Vyke. Thinking about it, UndeadHumor was onto something when he made sketch with Morgott and Frenzied Flame- some demigods could be greatly influenced by it. Or rather, a specific child of Marika. Messmer. Others could probably combat it to some degree- Morgott was sealing Three Fingers away with Mogh, so it's obvious they were resisting it (and Mogh was influenced already by many other things). Radahn, Ranni and Rykard all have/had strong wills and couldn't be easily swayed. Miquella could probably be swayed, but once losing his emotions, Frenzy Flame couldn't really use him and Malenia is also strong-willed character, resorting to help from Outer Gods only as last-ditched effort. Melina obviously knows about Frenzied Flame and despises it. But Messmer? This man is already knee-deep in pain. He's been mommy's good boy for centuries long, doing war for her and getting nothing in return. Being abbanoned, scorned child, not having any place in his mother's new, perfect world. Forced to hide his serpent nature, something he couldn't control. And losing it all, once he sees his mother truly left him and choose some Tarnished over him. Why wouldn't he want to burn it all? He even states embracing oblivion in his second phase. His flame is already known as flame without honor or grace. He already brought so much pain onto everybody, including himself, he lost people important to him, he knows, he has no future outside of his crusade, which in the end, didn't earn his mother's love or favor. I might be missing some lore details, as I'm still trying to tie main game stuff with DLC revelations, but I won't lie- Messmer using both his red flames and yellow flames the same way Midra did, would be cool as hell. And yes, I am big fan of Messmer and Midra, how could you tell?

[slutshamethesquirrels]

Superbloom - Part 3

tws: abuse, domestic violence, self harm and suicidal ideations

pairing: cc!satosugu x reader

part 2

Gojo stays up impossibly late. When he's home, you try your best to keep him company, but often end up nodding off on the couch, or the floor. One time you even fell asleep with your head down on the dining room table beside your late night bowl of cereal, spoon still in hand. You couldn't remember it, but Gojo found it greatly amusing.

You always woke up in your bed though.

Did he touch you when he carried you there? Or did he scoop you up with the infinite barrier between himself and the rest of the world? Did he brush your hair away from your face, rest his cheek against your forehead as he cradled you?

You couldn't imagine he did. Sensory input seemed to be a sort of hurdle for him.

He liked taste. Particularly sugar, but oftentimes he could also be lured away from responsibility by way of food trucks and pop up shops with menus that may as well be eligible to him. Different combinations of taste and texture seemed to fascinate him. There was something very human in those moments; the tilt of his head and the slow maneuvering of his jaw. It seemed it was only in those fleeting moments he could entirely lose himself in the sensation of something new.

Sight was a curse, quite literally. You’d learned the blindfold was more than just a comfort, more than just a mask. Occasionally he'd come home from missions and fall face first into the couch swearing he’s fine, but you knew better. There was a tension in his shoulders that only seemed to ease when all the lights were off and the only sound was your colliding breathing. You’d sit on the floor in front of him and worry, so loud you'd think he could probably hear it until his breathing slowed. You couldn't carry Gojo to bed if you tried, but you'd retrieve his blanket from his room and pull it up over his sleeping form only to watch it hover a few inches above his slumbering frame. You wondered if it was still warm.

And touch?

You wouldn't know. You aren't sure he would either.

He treated infinity like a party trick, throwing up invisible walls for you to walk into for a quick laugh, or blocking your chopsticks from reaching your lips– he especially loved it when you got irritated enough to throw something at him.

Little reminders of how untouchable he truly was.

It was lonely.

You hadn't gone so long without being touched in years. At first you missed the obvious: the kisses, the cuddles, the sex– but you knew you were truly broken when Gojo had come home fuming after a meeting with the higher ups and you got excited over the idea that he might lose it enough to hit you.

He didn't. He wouldn't.

Instead he stormed past you, his infinity bumping you roughly out of the way and made a b-line for his room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle the walls.

The loneliness only grows.

Day fades to evening fades to night. You fill the time with instant ramen and doom scrolling through social media.

You know you shouldn't check, but you can't stop yourself from pulling up Suguru's instagram.

He loved pictures. You'd always had the feeling that he was a little vain, but he would swear it was all about the image.

He didn't post often, but when he did the comments we're always flooded with new age spirituality bullshit. Praising him and his “healing”, stroking his ego about his “divine masculine” energy. You had half a mind to tell these people that man had a better skincare routine than you did, but decide against it.

Something catches your eye.

His most recent post was liked by Manami.

You knew better than to open her profile, because seeing her name alone makes your stomach churn and your blood boil. It almost feels good-

“Y/n?”

Gojo's voice snaps you out of your trance and you drop your phone with a clatter against the table. If he's curious, he doesn't say so. It seems like there are other things on his mind.

“Pack your bags.”

The words cut through you like a hot knife, nausea welling up in your gut.

What was wrong with you that this kept happening? And even more importantly, where would you run to if not to Gojo? You’d lost all connections when you decided to follow Suguru in his defection, and not even a coffee shop would be impressed by “highschool dropout” written in the fine print of your resume.

Still, what was there to do?

“Okay.” It comes out muted, shakey.

“We’ll be there for an entire week, and it's gonna be cold, so choose your outfits accordingly.”

Oh.

Relief floods you. You take a breath you didn't know you'd been denying yourself.

Planes are nice, but nowhere near being better than rides on Suguru’s curses. Still, you lean against the window, watching the expansive sea trail out for miles below you, wondering how it’d feel to drop right there in the middle. One would assume it’d be peaceful, but you knew better. People said water burned when it entered your lungs.

Still, there must be something interesting down there. Perhaps a sunken ship, or plane– just like the one you were on now. Or maybe something less human, something darker.

You’d never find out under the watchful eye of Gojo, who by all means looked relaxed. His long legs were stretching obnoxiously into your space, his fingers interlocked behind his head, tipped back like he hadn’t a care in the world, and yet you knew that something was eating at him. Whatever this mission was, it had him pissed, though he wouldn’t divulge exactly what had him so riled. It came through in subtle bursts- flares of his nostrils, clenches of his fists, impatient legs jiggling and jostling your seat with every move.

“Gojo.” You scold, moving to rest your hand against his ever bouncing knee but being stopped just a few inches short.

A grin cracks across his face like lighting; violent and bright.

“Yes?”.

He jiggles his leg harder. If it were anyone else, you’d punch them, but this was Gojo. Not only did you have a particular sort of patience for his class clown behavior, but you also couldn’t– the fact that he paid your rent being just as big of a placater as the physical inability to do so.

So you choose a different route.

“Are you nervous or something? Awfully jittery over there.” Your tone lets him know it’s an accusation, not a question.

He freezes, and then sneers “Please. I don’t get nervous.”.

He stays still for the rest of the ride.

Gojo had warned you it would be cold, and you should’ve known he meant you’d be staying in a glorified desert of ice and snow. Another thing about him that hadn’t changed; overstating the inconsequential and understating the important. Not that you had access to clothing of that caliber anyway. You hadn’t left the temple unless tucked under Geto’s arm in all your years away, there was no need for anything other than the uber-casual. Sweatpants, jeans, leggings and t-shirts. You had traditional wear as well, but you’d left it in your room back at the temple. There was no way you were ever donning that again.

The early morning light is played like a game of tennis across the expansive white of the snow-laden rooftops and sidewalks and Gojo’s luminescent features. Both are too light to be accepting of any new particles of light, rejecting the sun's warmth with a beautiful type of determination.

“Fuck.”

The word spat through Gojo’s colgate teeth to some would detract from the beauty, but you’d been taught the debauchery and violence went well with beauty, so it only felt natural.

He shocks you by yanking the blindfold off of his face, scrunching his face up against the blinding light, his features almost wound as tight as his thick knuckles gripping the steering wheel of the rental car. The cold chill that seeps into you isn’t coming from outside, but from somewhere deep in your core.

His eyes had always been beautiful, would’ve been enough to jostle you with a fair warning all those years ago, but with the blindfold removed it was even easier to see just how much he’d grown since then. His features were developed, sharp and smooth all at the same time, with sparse boyish details painted into his aura. Fluttering lashes, long and stark white, soft cheeks and round eyes that– stunned you. You could almost see a faint glow emitting from his pupils, a myriad of memories and lessons and raw power emanating from his gaze. They were horrifying.

They were beautiful.

He flops his blindfold in your lap and motions to his bag in the backseat.

“My glasses are in the front pocket, be a peach and grab them for me?”.

When you turn around to fulfill his request you see exactly what he was perturbed by. A white cop car with ghost detailing on the sides.

“Awwwh, Gojo’s scared of pigs!” You coo as you fish around in the front zipper of his suitcase, smiling to yourself when he laughs. It sounds like caramel tastes; the kind of sweetness that would only come from burning something just right.

He was fun to tease, sometimes.

“Don’t feel like having to make pork chops because they pull me over for driving with my vision obscured.”

Gojo leaves you at the rental cabin with a strict set of rules. You’re not to leave under any circumstances. Stay indoors and away from windows, and when nightfall comes, all lights are to be turned off and left that way. If anyone approaches, you are to act like you’re not there.

You asked him why.

He said you were weak.

It didn’t take you long to discover there was no service this far out in the sticks. You busy yourself as best you can, wandering around the far too large estate and yanking open cabinets and doors like you might find something spectacular (or horrifying) awaiting you.

The best it had to offer was a mostly empty bottle of cleaner under the bathroom sink and a brown recluse in an empty closet. You tell him (her?) hello but she doesn’t respond, so you decide it best to leave him to his biddings. He was here first, after all.

It’s when the sun sets that you really start to lose it.

You’d never been afraid of the dark before, so why now did it feel like it was suffocating you?

The walls seemed to be closing in, tighter and tighter until you felt as if you were pushing on the edges of your own coffin, buried six feet beneath the damp earth. Maggots gnawed at your flesh, rainwater seeped in through the cracks and somewhere you hear Suguru yelling your name. He sounds displeased.

You fumble in the darkness until your hands find a wall and you trace it, blindly feeling for anything that might give you a sense of direction in the unfamiliar environment. The disorientation is blinding, the heat from your hammering pulse making the air burn with every intake.

Suguru would be disgusted, to see you flailing and fumbling in the dark all because you were simply left alone with your own thoughts for too long.

Weak.

You hand finds cool metal and you recognize the familiar sensation of a knob against your palm, turning and throwing the door open without a second thought.

It's no brighter, but the freezing night air shocks your nervous system, hitting you like a brick to the throat– like the hand of a lover.

You take a shuddering gasp, and then two, and then three, until you finally feel some sense of sanity again.

Your eyes adjust to the moonlight, and you can make out the white fields that seem to stretch on for as far as the eye can see. The snow quiets the sounds of nature, quiets the kick drum in your chest.

Your back slowly presses against the cool wall of the house behind you, exhaustion wracking your frame as you come down from your panic. It's real, you tell yourself, it's all real. The wind nipping at your skin, slicing through the thin fabric of your clothing. The shards of razor sharp snow and ice caught in said wind that feels like they’re stabbing through your body. It all hurts. It makes you homesick.

You can't say for sure when you end up on the freezing surface of the covered porch on your side, curled into yourself, but you stay there, relishing in the feeling of the cold burn, thinking that if you close your eyes the frost bite on your jawline kind of feels like Suguru's teeth. Sharp.

Sleep overtakes you, eventually.

You dream of nothing.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Jake Jensen

Summary: Jake knows he's the luckiest man in the world and it's all because of you.

Warnings: None at this time. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

You and Jake are both brimming with excitement. It's such a big day for the twins: choosing their starter Pokemon! Your cameras were ready and you had done everything you could to make sure the twins wouldn't be overwhelmed and stressed. A lot of planning went into how to make sure the twins actually chose on their own and that Luke didn't just mimic Leah's choice.

Jake had picked up two sets of plushies for each twin to choose from. In true Pokemon fashion, he had placed them in order of Charmander, Squirtle, Bulbasaur. To keep the decision from becoming too pressured you agreed to set them up on the opposite side of the living room while playing with the toddlers. You'd let them approach as they saw fit and have the cameras going to record the precious moment.

Watching your babies alternate between crawling and walking is bittersweet. It seems like just yesterday they were tiny little beans you could hold in one arm (Jake still can, but that's his muscles at work). They're already getting good at walking and talking. Pretty soon they'll be going to school! You love that your babies are doing so well, that they're growing up to be such happy people, but you also kinda wish they'd stay small and clingy.

Jake sees your eyes tearing up and his smile drops, "you okay, Sunshine? What's wrong?"

"I'll be fine, Jakey," you assure. "It's just, they've been hitting so many milestones so quickly!"

"I know," Jake hugs you. "Pretty soon they'll be beating their old man at video games, too."

You laugh at that. "It'll probably be quite some time before that happens."

"You say that now, but I'm pretty sure Luke's got some good dexterity skills. And Leah's definitely gonna have a competitive streak. She was born a full seven minutes before her brother!"

"I know, Jake. I remember that painfully well."

He kisses the top of your head. "Thank you, again, for all of this."

The two of you had been so caught up in talking you hadn't realized that the twins had toddled over to the plushies until they started laughing. You and Jake gasp as Leah picks up the Charmander, laughing and hugging it before picking up the other two. Meanwhile Luke grabs and takes a big bite of the Bulbasaur plushie.

You and Jake rush over and playfully pick up the twins. "Leah Mabel," you playfully yell, "you're a Charmander girl!"

Jake gently tosses Luke, still holding the Bulbasaur, "And Luke Mason, showing off those brains and picking the statistically best starter!"

You give Jake a fake glare, "you know you can make up for not having a Bulbasaur by picking up other Pokemon along the way, right?"

"I stand by my statement," Jake ribs. Looking at Leah, "and you clearly already knew about that because you picked up all the plushies after choosing Charmander, didn't you?" Leah laughs at him as he gently tickles her.

The four of you spend the rest of the night celebrating by playing with all the plushies until the twins needed to get to bed. As you watch the two of them sleep you whisper to Jake, "should we have another baby?"

Jake freezes a little, "it's definitely been on my mind. But I didn't want to say anything because it's going to be a lot for you."

"So, if I tell you I want another, you'll support me in that?"

"Always."

You smile, "thank you for that, Jake. I'm definitely going to think about it. In the meantime, how about we get in some practice?"

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[yousaydisco]

THIS GOT SUPER LONG WHOOPS

I can't stop thinking about this post (TL;DR it is about how Kim's life is almost as sad as Harry's due to how he has lived his entire life as horribly repressed, not allowing himself the freedom of his own silliness which is why he is such a good pairing for Harry, since they are both silly) and I started thinking about thoughts

specifically how this knowledge would fit into a swap AU

like a lot of other people here, I really like a swap AU and I think it allows for a fun way to flip each character on its head and examine a Harry who is more cleaned up vs a Kim who is more of a disaster, and how Harry would fit taking a more patient role to a Kim that lost his memory. But! A problem I have with a lot of swap AU's is that Kim just. . . would never be allowed to be a disaster like Harry is.

If Kim was like Harry, who was brilliant and highly capable and basically the perfect detective except for substance abuse problems, explosive personality, narcissistic traits (looking at you, Superstar), and overall impossible to control, he would get fired. He wouldn't be given 500 chances like Harry (presumably) has. So in his swap AU, Kim is still his highly controlled self and Harry is slightly less of a disaster. Enough so that he doesn't drink himself to amnesia at the start of the case, but he is still a mess dealing with all his stuff.

So how did Kim lose his memory? Probably a car accident. Had to get dragged out of his precious Kineema and its completely totaled, he was hold up at the Whirling-In-Rags as he healed and woke up with just. No memory.

And no reason to repress anything anymore.

Some scenes:

Harry arrived at the crime scene days late because he was avoiding work to get drunk, which is also why Jean Vic isn't with him either because he's sick of babysitting him so when he gets to the Whirling and hears that the other officer hasn't been picking up the slack and instead is horribly injured he's like. Fuck!

Kim doesn't remember shit. Not about him, not about the world, but after some time wandering behind Harry all dazed and confused he finally sees Harry's car and GASPS and rushes over. He examines this thing top to bottom and spouts off trivia facts a mile a minute at Harry, who is just standing there like 'I thought this guy had brain damage' but he listens. So patiently.

He eventually does have to stop him though. He says its for the case, but it's really when Kim starts looking at the interior and he doesn't want him to see the mess in there. Or how badly he's taking care of the car.

Harry isn't sure why he's suddenly so insecure about being seen as messy in front of his guy. Whatever.

During the field autopsy Harry, who is horribly hungover, still throws up. Kim still comforts him by rubbing his back, probably went ahead and pull his hair away from Harry's face, and then pats around his pockets for the handkerchief.

Kim gets an inkling of a feeling that he's missing something (his notebook, though he doesn't know that yet) but Harry doesn't notice what is going on in Kim's head yet, when he probably normally would, because his highly highly repressed bi-sexuality is rearing his head because there is this guy just casually touching him lovingly and he can't think.

(Kim probably also lost his gun and badge, it fell out of his jacket when he was being dragged from the car, but Harry told him that in their first conversation. He wouldn't know that Kim is also missing a notebook)

Kim is also putting in all his effort into the field autopsy. He's like, I'm a cop? Okay, let's solve this!

When Harry suggests that Kim get on his shoulders to get the hanged man down he's like, hmm you look strong enough to carry me alright let's try that, and Harry barely has time to register that this guy called him STRONG LOOKING before Kim is climbing on him and he has to try and appear COMPLETLY 100% STRAIGHT.

He succeeds, but mostly because Kim is too focused on getting the corpse down. If he looked at Harry's face it would be very obvious.

But the actual autopsy = Kim probably approaches it mostly fearless. And he's trying to be really observant to make up for his eyesight not being all that great, and he's probably talking out loud about everything since he can't write it down. But it would still be Harry who noticed the bullet. Kim probably compliments Harry on his ability to see it and, again, Harry loses it a little bit.

Kim's interactions with Cuno and Cunoesse helps him unpack a few sense memories of going undercover with juvenile delinquents and he thinks the best way to talk to them is to relate to them. Somehow. All he can remember his trivia facts about Pinball and the best strategies to get a high school, and in between his lecture on it he sometimes breaks into rants about how Pinball sucks actually, and he hates it, and it makes him feel bad for reasons he doesn't know.

Harry tries to make Kim seem less weird by throwing in facts about Contact Mike.

More than anything it just baffles Cuno and Cunoesse.

When Kim hears that "Welcome to Revachol" for the first time he doesn't remember that its racist, but he does know how it makes him feel, so he's instantly pissed off. Harry, who is overall a good guy but has absolutely said racist stuff while drunk and probably the day before, goes off as well and stands up to the racist so Kim doesn't do something WORSE and get in trouble. It's not that Harry is socially aware enough that has a white guy he can get away with more stuff, he wants Kim to like him.

You know how at the end of day briefing in the game has Harry calling Kim so cool, and it feels like that is the moment where Kim is really endured to Harry? In this AU, Kim will say something like hey. We should hang out once the case is over. And Harry, who has a whole thing about feeling like he's terrible and horribly unlikeable and just wants someone to see him as a mess worthy of their time rather than just a fucked up person, finally admits to himself that he cannot repress this anymore and he might have a crush on this super cool weirdo.

(that doesn't mean Harry feels any better about himself, really. He's now just convinced that he has to Fix Himself Completely overnight so that he can actually help this guy regain his memories.)

(OH ACTUALLY! No, Harry doesn't want to help Kim regain his memories. He's not going to actively try and stop it if it happens, but he will secretly hope that he never remembers the world in case they met while Harry was blackout drunk and Kim won't like him anymore.)

A scene where Kim fiddles with Harry's radio and it starts playing disco. He can't help but let out an audible "ew." before switching it to Speedfreaks. Harry is offended to his CORE and they have a playful but still loud/heated argument about music.

THE BOARD GAME SCENE! Harry still gets Suzerainty and when he starts popping out the cardboard pieces Kim just SNATCHES it out of his hands. No apology. And he's having such an obvious blast just poking out the pieces and then taking out every part of the board game so he can see all the components (classic autism moment) that Harry impulsively (classic ADHD moment) buys multiple more board games just to give Kim more fun little pieces to poke out. And Kim loves it, and Harry thinks "I'm winning at making friends. I'm going to win a prize at making friends and the prize will be a friend :)"

They do eventually find Kim's badge and gun and Harry is very happy at that, but Kim is still like. Hmm. Something is missing.

When he finds his notebook he's just. SO HAPPY! He thinks its like being reunited with a friend. Probably hugs it/clutches it tight to his chest. But when he opens it he's like "god damn my handwriting is awful."

Harry asks to read it, mostly joking around, fully ready to steal it when Kim isn't looking, except Kim just. Hands it over. And doesn't stop Harry from reading it. And of course Harry does.

Kim doesn't really KNOW about homophobia so he probably just. Says gay shit all the time. And Harry can't deal with it. The scene with the smoker on the balcony is still really funny but it's less of Harry having a bi-panic moment (he still has elements of it though) but when Kim starts flirting back in earnest Harry is just. Jealous out of his mind. Puts a stop to it ASAP he's like "OKAY WE WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. ACTUALLY ONLY I WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. KIM LET'S GO!"

When Jean comes into the picture and starts arguing with/berating Harry, he's about ready to turn it into an all out brawl right there in the cafeteria, but Kim is like "HEY! You ass! He's been very helpful this whole time! Just because he's a drunk and he smells bad doesn't mean shit!"

Harry has heart eyes.

The tribunal has the injuries reversed, Kim gets shot and Harry gets the concussion and needs to keep Kim alive. Harry, who has been trying to sober up during the case for Kim's sake, takes speed to allow him to stay up to monitor Kim's health and as soon as Kim wakes up he's like "great! fantastic!" and passes the fuck out.

The whole thing with the Phasmid is the first time where Harry nerds out over something and not Kim. And Kim listens. And Harry probably cries because like, it's something he's allowed to like that isn't related to WORK and someone actually cares about what he is like when he isn't DETECTING and it helps him feel like a person rather than the Superstar Cop.

(Right after his rant on cryptids, Kim goes on a tangent about his cool camera and tells Harry every little thing about it and they just. Nerd out together).

[theangrycomet-art]

The Almanac is a very... interesting read

I have... opinions on some of the behind the scenes world building and what they had planned with S4 (it makes me a little glad the show ended where it did... writers it's bad enough you offed Prowl when you could have had restoring the Allspark be the Key's purpose instead of upgrading Sari- but then to further split up the team whyyyyy)

Anyway, here's Blitzwing and my take on him before the Triple-Changer experiment was done to him against his will and his former partner the cold hearted bitch who did it to him, also pre-op.

COMMISSIONS OPEN

Ramblings (no really- RAMBLINGS) below: I wanted to make this a comic but the Art wasn't Arting

TLDR: Lancer and Blitzwing were taken as prisoners of war by the autobots and Lancer made a lot of bad decisions to try and save his life within they circumstances which directly led to him becoming the first triple changer.

It's a little more complicated than this but basically Blitzwing (then known as Kaltwing) was hurt REALLY bad when he and Lancer were trying to retrieve the Allspark-about partway through the war. Like- missing his legs- wings ripped off- half his face blasted off bad.

So Lancer, or Himmel Lancer as she was then called, tried to put him back together with what she had on hand because she was not about to let her best friend go OFFLINE. This resulted in her basically frankenstein-ing him parts from a fallen tank decepticon's corpse as well as her own parts to try and keep him online.Most notably her own T-cog, as his was damaged and forcing him to attempt to transform at random. Because they were the same Frame type it was compatible enough to stabilize it when she fused the two ports.

Unfortunately, this still left him in extreme agony as Lancer was a RESEARCHER, not a Medic by any streatch of the word. It was one of those times he was pleading with her to offline him that they were caught by Autobots. With Blitzwing barley able to move and Lancer unable to transform, they were fish in a barrel.

The Autobots, after surgically stripping Lancer of ALL her weapons and installing a "contingency clause" protocol, allowed her to continue Blitzwing's "treatment" as well as forcing her to continue such experiments on other captured ‘cons. Many were curious to see where this "project" would go, even if most wouldn't openly agree to it themselves.

This went on for years with Blitzwing being their geniua pig until they reached the final straw for both of the former seekers.

Through a string of luck and incompetence, Lancer managed to achieve the two's original goal and stole the All-Spark right from under Ultra Magnus' nose. She was hoping it would reverse the damage she's done to him, and possibly restore herself in the process, but she was interrupted when the gaurds caught up with her and the contingency clause protocols activated and began frying her from the inside out.

While she was able to stabilize Blitzwing before all this and relieve him of the physical pain he'd been under, it came at cost. Between his fritzing original T-cog and the trauma of having endless, painful operations at the hands of his friend and subsequent the poor treatment from Autobots, his mind broke under the Allsparks "upgrades"z

During the chaos, he manages to break free and slaughters everyone in the facility including Lancer (at least he thought so). He was trying to grant her the clean death she refused him.

(Ironically enough, this damaged her enough for the protocols to think she'd offlined, and thus deactivate on their own).

He escapes back to the decepticons empty-handed and scary the shit out of everyone while Lancer is left to deal with the remaining wrath of the autobots.

[raccoonhusband]

Theory: Bill Cipher probably ate his Parallel Dimension Twin

Or should I have done an Earl of Lemongrab meme? Okay, jokes and japes aside I feel this has some real merit behind it, that I'll leave under the cut.

---

There's a lot of good ideas going around with how exactly Bill destroyed his dimension, but my personal pet theory is that he made contact with his parallel universe twin. Specifically, he consumed him. The evidence of what can happen when parallel universe copies make contact with each other is described in journal 3 by Alternate McGucket:

"As soon as they touched hands, the entire dimension began to warp and fizz with static ... In fact, that whole dimension has ceased to exist."

Time and time again, Bill is associated with static. In his "blood", attempts by the government to vivisect him, his memories of the event, his therapy notes, and depictions of his parents.

We know his goal with what ended up becoming the Euclydian Massacre was to "show everyone what they were missing," and it was enough to destabilize and destroy everything.

How'd he pull it off? I'm thinking he built a dimensional portal of his own, but honestly in this show anthyding can hadplen. It would definitely explain where the portal idea came from in the first place.

But why do I think he consumed his twin? It's all these very suspicious comments he keeps making to Ford specifically...

"How about that; you've got an inferior clone! Why didn't you just eat him in the womb? Think of how powerful you'd be!" "You can't just eat your twin, Bill." "You'd be surprised what you can eat."

And in the microscopically rare moment of honesty where he admits to himself that he's a monster, even if Ford isn't aware Bill's talking about himself yet, he follows up Ford's offer for revenge with, "It would eat you alive." You'd be surprised what you can eat.

And it's not like he hasn't consumed others after, as the page in the Book of Bill on the topic of Human skin, there's a desperate note at the bottom from a Grembley Hemberdrek of Zimtrex 9, who Bill devoured trillions of years ago and who's soul has been trapped inside forever after, tortured with "Good Vibrations" by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch on an endless loop. Who's to say his parallel twin isn't in there too?

It's very possible that his ultimate goal, aside from getting revenge, opening his world's eyes to the third dimension, and the sweet sweet high of proving everyone wrong was ultimately to find a better world, consume his "inferior twin" and take over his identity in his dimension. Thematically, it would also cement his status as Stanley's dark foil, who also took over and stole his twin's identity leading to a better life, albeit for much nobler reasons.

Additionally, on top of the practical reasons for taking over Earth, choosing Ford had that bonus that he wouldn't be alone by molding Ford in his image. It's why he kept giving him so many chances to join him. By setting him up to destroy his world, betray his twin, and become monsters together, he'd finally have a companion who's exactly like him. Only fitting for the Multiverse's ultimate narcissist, isn't it?

Anyway, if you read this far, thanks! This is only a theory and tbh I'm probably going to be proven wrong in time but hey!

[glisten-inthedark]

Byler Analysis | A Master Analysis

Oh boy, this will be a long one but let's go.

In this analysis, I won't talk about lighting, or about pocket squares, arrows or rainbows. I will talk about only about what the show has showed and told us.

Because while I won't dispute that said lighting, blocking and signs might be important to the story, general viewers aren't aware of it and yet somehow they keep missing vital parts of the story.

The following points are those provided by us by the narrative, by what they show vs what they tell, so strap in because this is a long one. Some of these points have been brought up, actually I think most of them considering I'm new to the fandol but don't mind that.

Our first scene has the boys playing together, but only Will stays behind. It's important to note that while Will bikes away, Mike's eyes follow him as he leaves and he keeps on watching him, fact which is further proved by how the camera remains steady on him for a good while and just after cuts to Mike.

Mike is the first to notice how Will didn't show up at school, and two of his other friends didn't worry about it at first. Then, when Will's body is found, the reaction they choose to focus on it's Mike's. Which begs the question, why differentiate between reactions when all the boys care deeply about Will? Why is Mike's reaction more visceral, more aggressive? And more importantly, why follow him home where we can see him cry into his mother's arms? They didn't show us Lucas' reaction, or Dustin's, instead they focused solely on Mike. And yeah, you could argue that it's because he knew Will the longest, but then we remembered that according to Mike himself, he knew he loved El the moment he met her (I know that's BS, but bare with me for a second), so why wouldn't they show us him being that upset over her apparent demise? Yes, he asks them where she is but that's the only thing he does, and after he just keeps trying to contact her on his walkie but he never actively looks for her. We see that. We even see that he thinks he saw El at the school and yet dismissed it as his imagination.

Later, Mike would claim he never stopped looking for her but that's also not we actually saw. Yes, he called for her, but didn't actively look for her like we saw him do with Will.

There's a stark difference, because with Will he literally started a search party to look for him.

I'm not saying Mike doesn't care for El, of course he does and he always will, but it's not near the same vicinity of what we saw him do for Will and we can't pretend otherwise.

So, why was important that we followed Mike home as he comes to terms with Will's "death?"

It's one of the first signs that their friendship is different, more profound and of more significance.

3. Mike knew that Will was alive

I think most people don't realize that, but Mike knew, just like Joyce knew, that the body didn't belong to Will and he didn't even have the advantage of seeing said body.

They are the only two characters on the show that experience this level of connection to Will. One of them is a mother desperately looking for her child, the other is their best friend.

5. Mike's monologue to Will vs Mike monologue to El

By itself, it's easy to interpret Mike's monologue to Will as the act of a friend. But context is fundamental to storytelling.

Mike isn't the only friend Will has, Lucas and Dustin both care about him. But they made Mike the focus of that moment.

Why?

Bare in mind that all the people that are speaking to him are the people who love Will the most on the world. His mother, and his brother. It isn't just that these are people Will cares about, they are the people that care about him and that love him.

Again, Mike didn't need to be there. All the other boys were left behind, and yet, there was he.

Shouldn't we wonder why? Shouldn't we think about what was trying to be conveyed here?

Why is Mike different? Why is his voice that breaks Will out his trance? Why weren't all the other people that care about Will there too?

Why was it so vital that we saw Mike tell the story of when they met? Why wasn't Lucas there, or Dustin's?

Oh but that only proves they have a close relationship.

Sure, I'd buy that if it weren't for the fact that in season four, we are shown the opposite.

When confronted with his feelings - or lack thereof- Mike literally gaslights El, claiming he does say he loves her.

Later, in the actual scene, everything is pandemonium. El is chocking, the camera keeps showing us Will, there are multiple cuts that get us her reaction and Will's, and Mike hesitates.

The supposed love of his life is chocking to death and he hesitates. He's desperate, he wants to help but he can't, and the only thing that forces him is Will. He only says it because Will reminds him of the painting.

The more I think about that scene, the more contrived and nonsensical it becomes. Because look, I can be a pretty objective person, I can take my feelings out of the equation and state, confidently, that there's a contrast between Mike talking to Will vs him talking to El.

Another thing to note is that Mike doesn't hesitate to share about the brilliance that was meeting Will Byers. He doesn't have to think about or lie. He knows.

He tells the story of this little boy that was all alone, saw another boy on the swings, approached him and asked him to be his friend and how this boy said yes. But is not just that, is how making that decision turns out to be the best thing he's ever done.

He doesn't need to tell Will he loves him (in whichever way it is), it is evident that he does. Even it it's not romantic at the time.

When talking to El, he hesitates. He calls to her, doesn't use the words that he was meant to be using all along. It's only after Will tells him he's the heart that he does.

The contrast exists on the writing, on how things were edited and directed, and how the scenes land themselves.

You don't believe me? Watch them side by side.

The existence of Mike's monologue to El puts into perspective the existence of Mike's monologue to Will. In one, there's the presence of other people, a lot of cuts in between frames, there's the focus on someone that shouldn't even be there and above all else, there's a lie.

Mike didn't love El. He claims he knew then and there - the moment he met her - that he knew he loved her. But he couldn't have. Not when he was trying to send her away, not when the only reason he found her was because he was looking for Will.

But above all else. If that's the case, then choosing Will as a friend couldn't possibly be the best thing he's ever done, simply because the best thing he has ever done would have been harboring El, because he knew the moment he met her that he loved her. Or would've been any moment in which he could be with the supposed love of his life.

In the other, the light is deem, the focus is only on them, Mike tells this story and it's moved to tears by the sheer emotion of that moment.

If we treated Mike as himself and Will as a girl, the trope of true love that breaks the spell would be evident. Because that's what happens. Mike's love - in whichever capacity- breaks the trance.

6. The sudden and 180° shift in Mike's behavior from season 2 to season 3

I know that Mike has been acting well, how to put it nicely? Not like the Mike we met during season 1 and 2

And I particularly viewed that sudden as a combination of multiple things. Firstly, I believe Mike thinks he needs to grow up, and that involves leaving childish things behind.

He is trying to conform to the notions of masculinity, trying to adept himself to what he believes to be socially acceptable and that doesn't include spending time with his friends, one in particular.

But I truly believe that the main focus of Mike's behavioral shift lies in Eleven. He isn't aware of what he's doing, but his ovverfixation with her exists because of his mental state.

What happened in season one? Will got taken and El helped get him back.

What happened in season 2? Will got possessed and almost died, but El managed to shut the gate and save everyone.

But you know what else happened during that time? Mike was solely focused on Will. While yes, he was calling El, his only focus is on him.

Now, I can only guess and infere at this point because unfortunately we lost Mike's POV, but I believe that during the summer he started to figure out things about himself he wasn't ready to face yet, and the reason why he realized ironically lies between El and Will.

El brings Mike a sense of stability, of trust and reliability. At first, she makes him feel needed, but she also makes him feel safe.

As people, we tend to rely on what's safe. Most of anyone will safely not take the plunge, would rather be stuck on eternal revolving doors just so that they're safe.

It's a lot safer for a teenager to pretend.

To pretend that this is the life he chose, and he must commit to it. He compensates, and he deflects and projects because his mentality is all or nothing. He needs to like the girl, he needs to feel something for the girl because that's what everyone has been telling him.

And when he tells Will that is not his fault Will doesn't like girls it wasn't about Will. It's about projecting onto him everything he supposedly hates about himself.

And as El tells him he loves her and kisses her, he doesn't close his eyes and why wonders why is there this feeling of wrongness?

Because he doesn't want things to change. As he stares at that house, at the place full of memories, is not El he misses.

As he comes home and holds his mother, we get a full parallel to the first season. And I wanted to point out, that at both points he believes he lost Will.

In the first to death. In the second, to a different life.

And as he holds his mom, Mike almost seems... Numb. Like he shut down all high level functioning so he won't break down.

7. How Mike and El's relationship is structured

I would be saying this even if I wasn't a shipper, but it's clear that the writers themselves made a point of showing that whatever Mil*even has, isn't love.

When Mike lies to El about Hopper, it isn't to protect her feelings. It's to protect himself.

And when El lies to Mike, it isn't so he wouldn't worry, it's to put up a front. It's so she can pretend that she's normal and that she isn't a monster. She isn't a monster, but somehow he doesn't make her feel like he accepts her as well.

Now, let's compare this to Jancy. We know that Jonathan doesn't intend on telling Nancy about college because he knows she'd come with him and he doesn't want to hold her down. He wants her to be happy, above all else, even if it breaks his heart.

That is love.

Love is wanting the other person to be happy and accepting that they might not be happy with you.

Now, does that sound familiar? Well, it should.

Because it's exactly what Will does. He lies because he loves Mike and he doesn't think his words would matter, so like Cyrano de Bergerac, he treats what he says as words from El.

And I know some people would claim Will deserves better than Mike, but the thing is... While Mike made mistakes, we are shown that whenever Will is concerned, he apologizes for those. He admits he's wrong, he knows he shouldn't have done.

Mike acting like an ass sometimes doesn't suddenly erase every good thing he's ever done. And we don't love people who deserve it, that's not how it works. We don't choose who we love, love isn't a button you can turn on and off whenever it's convenient and only when the other person deserves it. Love is so much more complicated than that. Like, scholars have been trying to explain, quantify and apply rationality to it for ages, it hasn't worked so far for a reason.

[svtiddiess]

Soft Serenity

Synopsis: Watching your boyfriend sleep is one of the best things in the world.

Pairing: Jeonghan x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, one shot

Rating: sfw

Word count: 529

Warnings: none! Lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Need me a Jeonghan right now ㅠㅠ

@tomodachiii I told you he'd get a happy ending! Now, please stop screaming at me.

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Safe. That's what you felt at the moment, in your boyfriend's arms as you watched him sleep. Streaks of sunlight peak in through the blinds, illuminating your boyfriend's face and making him look more ethereal than he already does. His blonde hair, which he recently dyed for the upcoming comeback, frames his face, truly making him look like an angel.

You smile at the thought of your boyfriend being known as an 'angel' among his fans when, in fact, he's quite the opposite. Not a day goes by when you're not dealing with the consequences of dating this angel-like devil. But you know for a fact that you wouldn't give it up for the world.

Ever since you met Jeonghan, every day has been an adventure. Even if most days you spend with him are at home cuddling, he somehow always manages to keep you on your toes, either through cheeky remarks or 'harmless' pranks. You can't imagine your life before you met him; it seemed so monotonous and bland, like something was always missing. And when you met Jeonghan, it finally clicked; he was the puzzle piece that was missing in your life.

You bring your focus back to the man in front of you. You gently use your finger to trace his beautiful features, careful not to wake him. You've always marvelled at how beautiful Jeonghan looked, even admitting to him that he looked more beautiful than you, to which he laughed and cooed, saying that to him, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.

Your finger stops when you reach his lips, which are pouting due to his face being squished by the pillow. You'd never admit this to him, but you're addicted to his lips. You can kiss him for hours and still want more. The feeling of his lips on your skin always makes you shudder, even if it is just an innocent peck on the cheek. You lean forward to place a gentle kiss on his pouting lips, silently giggling to yourself.

Jeonghan's pout turns into a smile as he shifts to bring you closer to him, causing you to let out a small squeak. He then places a kiss on the corner of your lips before snuggling his face into your neck.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" You softly ask, moving your hands to thread them in his hair. He shakes his head.

"I've been awake this whole time," he mumbles into your neck, and you swear you can feel him smile.

"So you knew I was watching you this whole time?!" You could feel your cheeks heat up at the thought of Jeonghan catching you admiring him.

"You looked so happy, so I just let you be," he hums, "plus it felt nice."

"You're going to tease me about it later, aren't you?"

"Definitely."

You let out a defeated sigh as you continue to rake your fingers through his hair. With Jeonghan, there's definitely no winning. But with him, there definitely will be happiness, excitement, comfort, safety, and serenity. You feel him place a kiss on your neck, making you giggle softly.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[its-avalon-08]

Hi. Could you do a Fernando Alonso one where reader are Carmen's sister and sometimes accompany her to races to spend time together due to reader's busy schedule with her modeling career and to the point where Fernando becomes interested in knowing more about her while George and Carmen try to set them up, since they realize how well the two get along and the tension that is in the air

meddling and podiums (fa14)

✦ pairing - fernando alonso x female!reader

✦ genre - friends to lovers, meddling george and carmen, cute, fluff,

The paddock was buzzing with the usual energy of race day. The sun beat down on the vibrant F1 scene, with fans filling the grandstands, drivers making last-minute preparations, and teams moving swiftly to ensure everything was ready for lights out. Amidst all this, Carmen and her sister, Y/N, walked through the paddock, turning a few heads.

Y/N hadn’t been to a race in a while. Her modeling career kept her moving from city to city, but today, she managed to carve out time to support her sister and spend some quality time together.

“I'm so glad you could make it,” Carmen smiled, looping her arm through Y/N's as they navigated through the McLaren garage. “Feels like I never see you anymore."

Y/N laughed, adjusting her sunglasses as she glanced around. "Tell me about it. I've missed this vibe. You know how crazy my schedule’s been. But I needed this. A break, some racing… and, of course, hanging out with my favorite sister."

“Your only sister,” Carmen teased.

As they walked past the garages, Y/N caught sight of the familiar green of the Aston Martin team and its star driver, Fernando Alonso. His presence was impossible to ignore—tall, rugged, and oozing confidence as he discussed strategy with his engineers. She had seen him on TV countless times but seeing him up close was something else entirely. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly commanding he was.

Carmen noticed her sister’s gaze lingering. "Interesting view?" she asked playfully, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, though a smirk played on her lips. "Just… observing. No harm in looking, right?"

"Right…" Carmen said, clearly noting the spark of interest. "Come on, George is waiting for us at Mercedes. But, I wouldn't mind taking a detour near the Aston Martin garage later."

Y/N chuckled. "You're not that subtle, you know."

As they made their way towards George, Y/N felt someone’s eyes on her. Glancing up, she met Fernando Alonso’s gaze for the briefest of moments. He looked curious, like he was trying to place her face. She wasn’t just another person in the paddock to him. And then, just as quickly, the moment passed, and he turned back to his conversation.

They reached Mercedes, where George Russell was leaning casually against a wall, spotting them from a distance with a wide grin on his face. "Well, look who finally decided to show up—Miss World herself," he teased, pushing off and walking over with a playful bounce in his step.

Y/N smirked, rolling her eyes as she hugged him. "Oh please, as if you don’t love having me around to boost your popularity. Admit it, you’ve missed me."

"Missed? Try celebrating the peace and quiet since you've been jet-setting across the world," George shot back, ruffling her hair in a brotherly gesture. "Now you're back to ruin it all."

"Ruin it? I make everything better, Russ. Without me, you'd be bored out of your mind."

Carmen laughed as she watched them banter, but George wasn’t done. “Honestly, I think the paddock’s been too calm. Carmen’s always talking about you, and I’m like—great, now I have to deal with two of them. Double trouble."

Y/N punched him lightly on the arm. “Admit it, you love having me around to keep you on your toes."

George laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright! You win. It’s nice to see you here, Y/N. It’s not the same without you stirring things up."

Y/N smirked. "That’s what I thought."

As they exchanged more playful jabs, George's expression turned more mischievous. "Oh, by the way, Alonso's been… asking about you."

Carmen and George shared a knowing look. "Well, you did just catch his eye. Plus, he's been asking questions like… ‘Who’s the girl that sometimes comes with Carmen?’ And ‘What does she do?’ You know, the usual."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "He could just ask me directly, you know."

“Oh, I’m sure he’s thinking about it,” Carmen said, nudging her.

As they chatted, George’s phone buzzed. He glanced down and grinned. “Speak of the devil. Fernando’s just invited us to the Aston Martin hospitality. Care to join?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, pretending to think. "Isn't this a bit of an obvious setup?"

Carmen laughed. "It's not a setup if there's already chemistry."

George nodded, backing her up. "Exactly. Come on, Y/N. Just join us. I bet it’ll be fun."

Y/N sighed, though a flicker of curiosity burned in her eyes. "Alright, alright. But if this gets awkward, I’m blaming both of you."

"Deal," George smirked, already texting Fernando back.

As they made their way toward Aston Martin, Y/N felt the flutter of anticipation rise in her chest. She hadn’t expected to feel like this, but there was something intriguing about Fernando. The way he carried himself, the quiet confidence… it piqued her interest.

And if the way George and Carmen were looking at her was any indication, they were already rooting for something to happen.

---

The Aston Martin hospitality suite was buzzing with activity when Y/N, Carmen, and George arrived. The gleaming green branding and calm atmosphere contrasted sharply with the chaotic energy outside. Fernando was standing near a table, engrossed in conversation with one of the team members, but as soon as they entered, his eyes flicked toward them.

George waved, leading the way. “Fernando! Hope we’re not interrupting anything important.”

Fernando glanced up, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Not at all,” he said smoothly, nodding at George before his gaze shifted to Y/N. “I see you’ve brought company.”

Y/N felt a slight flutter in her stomach as his dark eyes locked on hers. His presence was even more intense up close, and though he kept his tone casual, there was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel like they were the only two in the room.

“This is Y/N,” George said, clearly enjoying the moment. “You know, Carmen’s sister. We thought we’d drag her to more races since she’s been so busy.”

“Nice to finally meet you in person,” Fernando said, extending his hand toward Y/N. His voice was deep and calm, carrying a sense of quiet authority.

Y/N smiled, taking his hand in a firm handshake. “Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you,” she replied, her voice steady despite the unexpected jolt that came from the contact.

“Only good things, I hope,” Fernando said, his tone light but his eyes lingering on hers.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “Mostly.”

Carmen shot George a look, clearly noticing the subtle tension between them. “So, Fernando, you’re ready for today’s race?”

“Always,” he responded, but his attention was still on Y/N. “And what about you, Y/N? How does this compare to the excitement of your world?”

Y/N laughed softly, breaking eye contact for a moment. “A little different from the fashion shows, but I think I prefer the noise and chaos here. Plus, watching these races is a nice break from my schedule.”

Fernando’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “I imagine modeling takes you all over the world.”

“It does,” she replied. “But I try to make time for things that really matter. Family, friends… experiences.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his again, and there was no mistaking the subtle undercurrent in her words.

George, sensing the building tension, decided to jump in before things got too intense. “You two are making me feel like a third wheel,” he said, laughing awkwardly. Carmen elbowed him, but George just grinned. “Maybe we should give you a little more space.”

Carmen chimed in, smiling innocently. “That’s not a bad idea. George and I were going to grab some food, actually. You know, let you two get to know each other without us butting in.”

Y/N shot her sister a look, knowing exactly what she was trying to do. “Carmen…”

But George was already pulling Carmen along, leaving Fernando and Y/N standing there alone. "We'll be right back!" he called out, far too chipper as they disappeared into the crowd.

Y/N turned back to Fernando, trying not to laugh at her sister and George’s obvious meddling. “They’re not exactly subtle, are they?”

Fernando chuckled, his gaze softening. “Not at all.”

There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t awkward. The air between them felt charged, like there was something simmering beneath the surface. Y/N could feel his eyes on her, the weight of his attention making her heart race.

“You’re close with George and Carmen?” Fernando asked, his tone casual, but his interest was clear.

“Yeah,” she replied, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Carmen and I are really close. It’s hard with my schedule, so I try to come to races whenever I can to see her. George is like an annoying older brother, but… we all get along.”

Fernando nodded, his eyes following her movements. “I can see that. They seem like good people.”

“They are,” Y/N said. “George is always looking out for Carmen, and by extension, me. Which is probably why they’re trying so hard to—” she paused, catching herself before finishing the sentence, but Fernando raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“To…?” he prompted.

Y/N smirked, shaking her head. “To do exactly what they’re doing right now—setting us up.”

Fernando’s lips curved into a small smile. “Ah, so you noticed.”

“Hard not to,” she replied with a light laugh. “They’ve been dropping hints for weeks now.”

Fernando’s expression grew more serious, though the smile never left his face. “And what do you think about that? Being set up?”

Y/N paused, meeting his gaze again. There was something about him—he was confident, sure, but not in an arrogant way. His interest in her felt genuine, and she couldn’t deny the chemistry that was already building between them.

“I don’t usually like being set up,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But… I guess it depends on the person.”

Fernando’s smile widened slightly, and he took a step closer. “And what do you think of me so far?”

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, the intensity of his gaze pulling her in. She smiled, tilting her head slightly as she held his gaze. “I think you might surprise me.”

Fernando’s eyes darkened with interest, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

Before Y/N could respond, Carmen and George reappeared with mischievous grins on their faces, carrying trays of food.

“Did we miss anything?” George asked, far too casually.

Y/N glanced at Fernando, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Nothing you two don’t already know.”

time skip

As the race weekend unfolded, it became clear to everyone in the paddock—especially to George and Carmen—that Fernando and Y/N were inseparable. Every free second, whether it was between practice sessions, during lunch breaks, or even casual moments walking through the paddock, they were side by side. Their conversations seemed endless, filled with easy laughter and stolen glances.

George and Carmen watched from the sidelines, their plotting almost becoming a sport of its own.

Friday afternoon

“Look at them,” Carmen whispered to George, nudging him as they stood by the Mercedes garage. Fernando and Y/N were sitting on a bench a few meters away, deep in conversation. Y/N was laughing at something Fernando had said, her face lighting up in a way that was hard to miss.

George smirked, crossing his arms. “I think we’ve done quite a job here.”

Carmen giggled, leaning into him. “You think they even notice how much time they’re spending together?”

“No way. They’re too busy making heart eyes at each other.”

Saturday, after qualifying

As the sun began to dip, the paddock was alive with chatter. Drivers were heading off for briefings, and team members bustled about. But Y/N and Fernando stood off to the side, leaning casually against a wall, completely in their own world.

“So,” Y/N said, leaning closer to him with a teasing smile, “you and George seem to get along surprisingly well. He’s not too annoying for you?”

Fernando chuckled, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “I think I’ve learned to tune him out when he starts talking too much.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes. “That’s the secret to dealing with George. He loves the sound of his own voice.”

Fernando raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping just slightly. “And what about you? Are you as good at tuning him out?”

“Sometimes,” Y/N said, biting her lip, her tone playful. “But mostly, I just out-talk him.”

Fernando’s smirk grew, the tension between them unmistakable. “I can’t say I mind that.”

The air between them grew heavier, but before the moment could deepen, George’s voice cut through the tension.

“Hey, lovebirds!” he called out, grinning widely as he approached with Carmen. “Need any more help getting through this weekend together?”

Y/N groaned, laughing despite herself. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Carmen elbowed George, shooting Y/N and Fernando a playful wink. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous he’s not the center of attention.”

Fernando chuckled, his gaze lingering on Y/N. “I don’t think anyone could take attention away from Y/N.”

Sunday afternoon, post-race

The crowd was roaring as the podium ceremony wrapped up, and Fernando had just claimed an impressive P2. Y/N stood at the edge of the celebration, smiling as she watched him pop the champagne and soak in the cheers from the fans. There was something exhilarating about being part of this world, but today it felt even more electric. Fernando’s win wasn’t the only thing sparking the excitement in the air.

As the drivers made their way off the podium, Fernando spotted Y/N standing by, clapping and grinning at him. His eyes lit up as he made a beeline toward her, weaving through the crowd. Still in his race suit, champagne dripping from his hair, he looked like a man on top of the world.

As the podium celebrations wound down, Fernando made his way through the crowd, eyes scanning for Y/N. He spotted her standing just off to the side, her smile wide as she clapped along with the cheering fans. Despite the chaos surrounding them, she was a steady presence, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.

Still in his race suit, with champagne glistening on his hair and skin, he approached her, wiping a hand across his face as he grinned. “Not bad, huh?”

Y/N beamed up at him, her eyes bright. “Not bad at all. You looked like you were in your element out there.”

Fernando chuckled, slightly breathless but clearly energized. “I had some extra motivation.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “And what might that be?”

He took a step closer, the noise of the paddock dimming in his mind. “You.”

Her smile faltered for just a second, surprise flashing in her eyes before she tilted her head, amused. “Me?”

Fernando nodded, his voice lowering as his gaze softened. “Yeah. Being around you this weekend… I haven’t felt like this in a while.”

There was a moment of silence between them, the air heavy with unsaid words. Y/N’s heart was racing, the playful teasing that usually colored their conversations giving way to something deeper.

“Listen,” Fernando said, his voice gentle but sure, “I know this weekend’s been crazy, but if you’re not flying out tomorrow… I’d like to take you out. Just us, somewhere quiet. No paddock noise, no distractions.”

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her gaze locking with his. There was something sincere and almost vulnerable in his eyes, and for a moment, she forgot about the crowd, the race, and everything else.

“So,” she began, a small, teasing smile playing on her lips, “you’re asking me out, Alonso?”

Fernando smirked, his usual confidence creeping back as he held her gaze. “I am.”

Y/N bit her lip, her smile widening. “I think I’d like that.”

His eyes brightened with a mix of relief and excitement, the tension between them palpable. “Good. I'll make sure it’s worth your while.”

Y/N stepped a little closer, her voice dropping to match the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m counting on it.”

For a brief second, the world around them seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them standing there, caught in the electricity of something new.

As George and Carmen celebrated their success from the sidelines, Fernando and Y/N exchanged a look filled with the kind of tension that only comes when two people know they’re on the edge of something more.

And for once, the noise of the race weekend faded into the background, leaving just the two of them in the moment.

[mamawasatesttube]

it's like, i really do enjoy most of the bats as characters and i really do like a lot of their comics. but also i am sooooo tired of them being hailed as better than literally everyone else. both in fanon but also in comics (modern ones are esp egregious imo, like WHAT was that shit about batman and the joker being the most dangerous men on the planet. hi. have you heard of lanterns? speedsters? supers? actually if i keep listing groups who could kick batman's ass we'd be here all day). they're like kudzu. that shit needs to stay in its native environment (funky little neo-noir detective stories) and stop being an invasive species (putting down everyone else to make them seem cooler). put bruce wayne back into a murder mystery setting that isn't about saving the world but is about saving one person or one family that no one else would've saved right now or so help me god. the whole invasive species cross contamination thing is unhealthy for both him And the other ecosystems he keeps getting transplanted into. please. it's so dark in here