#like i know its not Us but it's still weird

[magpies-gold]

I have both eyes and they're both technically functional but I still relate to a lot of this because I also have monocular vision. In my case, the problem is with my brain, actually. It can only process images from one eye at a time because of a defect when I was born that required surgical intervention. Even after the fix, my brain just never learned that I still had two eyes, so it has no capacity to combine the image data like normal people do. As a result, I have no depth perception and I have a dominant eye that I use 90% of the time.

I also have visual snow that's especially noticeable when I close my eyes and at night in the dark, but as there isn't a lot of research on visual snow, I'm not sure if that's related or coincidental. In case people want to know a bit more about life as a person with monocular vision in a two-eyeballs kind of situation: I have a weird trick that I can do that seems to astound folks with binocular vision: I can consciously switch eyes. It's like flexing a muscle and I can decide to use the left one or the right in the same way that I can choose to wave my left or right hand. Trying to use both at the same time just doesn't work, though. If I really try, there's just this pressure feeling in my head, like I'm trying to imagine a colour that doesn't exist, but I can't make the two work together at all. This is likely just a me thing but my non-dominant eye is much worse than my dominant eye, and its been getting worse over the course of my life. It's still useful, but extremely near-sighted, so much so that it alone is legally blind and makes my optometrist and all their staff wince. But I can read very, very tiny close-up writing with it, so it comes in handy when I'm doing things like reading. My dominant eye is a little near sighted but not much. It's pretty stable. Also probably just a me thing: I have one lazy eye, but it relates to the monocular vision. It's my dominant one. If I use the non-dominant eye, you can actually tell when I've switched to it because my dominant eye "switches off" and rolls a little bit up and out. It was worse when I was a kid (my mom saying "Meghan, are you looking at me?" was a common thing) but it still happens nowadays. My non-dominant eye isn't lazy, so when I'm looking around normally with my dominant eye you can't tell that there's anything different about me than your average Joe. It's a mostly invisible disability for me (and I still feel strange calling it a disability because it's just how I've always seen, and yet here I am making a list of complexities regarding my vision, so....) A final possibly-just-me thing is that I hold my pencil like a space alien and always have. The reasoning I've given since I was a kid was because of which eye I use, I wouldn't be able to see what the end of my pencil was doing if I were holding it "correctly", so I draw and write like this:

(Video here, if you want to see the rest of that: https://www.tumblr.com/magpies-gold/699322866172346368?source=share) Can confirm from the above that head-tilt is a thing when one has monocular vision, even with two eyes. Because of the head tilt, I also get people startling me on my non-dominant side a lot, possibly because with my "blind" side tilted back and away from what I'm looking at, they think I'll see them sooner since that eye is closer to looking behind me. Therefore they don't think they're sneaking up on me. That is, right up until they appear, as if by magic, in my field of vision and I go AAAA!

Depth perception problems that I personally encounter: I don't drive so I don't have a lot to add there except that trying to learn scared me too much to proceed. I was not comfortable with how much slower my reaction time was on my left side or how I couldn't accurately judge where exactly objects in front of me were, so I gave it up in my teenage years in favour of a good pair of sneakers and a transit pass. But I will loudly say that going down stairs sucks. I am very opinionated on how much I love and appreciate when stairs have the bright yellow stripe at the edge, or some other marker to aim for. If stairs are all one uniform colour I am hesitant as hell putting my feet down because I can't tell how far a drop it is. I'm slow on descents on unfamiliar stairs and I desperately need the railing to hold on to. Going up stairs isn't bad because I have other visual cues to help me, and I'm much faster there. I also don't do well on really uneven terrain, like the rocky shores we have on beaches here. Watching my fiancé go hopping and skipping over rocks like a mountain goat gives me light wistful despair because I know if I tried that I would miscalculate almost immediately and break all my bones. My tactic is to get low and go slow if I have to cross anything where distances get tricky to guesstimate. I become a crab. I also have friends who know to slow down and will also let me hold their hand (bless). I do have peripheral vision ghosts on the non-dominant side even with two eyes. The most common thing I see is ghost cats. I'll see my cat jump up on a counter in my peripheral vision only to turn and find nothing there. Sometimes my brain will also suggest there might be a person walking in my peripheral vision. It's just overcompensating for what it has to fill in the blanks on. I can't catch things that are thrown at me except by sheer luck. Sports like baseball and badminton were brutal in high school and I got into many a verbal confrontation with my teacher while trying to explain that I had a very good reason to be afraid of the projectile coming for my face. I told him more than once to go close one eye and try it for himself and see what it's like. No peeking! I can't peek. Similarly, I can't fly a drone. I learned that very quickly when I accidentally flew Tim's full tilt into a wall. Oops. >> Drone was okay. I, on the other hand, was absolutely boggled by how I just could not tell where it was in space until boom, I'd crashed it. And that's because another thing is that I was personally born the way that I am, so I'm fully acclimated to it. I know nothing else, and I don't notice all the micro calculations that I do to translate my 2D view into 3D space so that I can move around in it. At least, I don't until I have a situation where the object I'm working with suddenly has no context, like a drone in mid-air, and then I suddenly notice my limitations. 3D movies largely don't work for me. They're basically just regular 2D movies involving stupid glasses. -shrug- Finally, video games with a lot of icons around the edges of the screen are a nightmare for me because I can't see all of my monitor at once. Again: slow as balls reaction time because I have to re-calibrate and turn my head a lot. The concept of a wide-screen monitors makes me go "Jesus, why?"

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[alchemistc]

Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.

The knocking continues.

It's getting louder.

There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.

Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.

He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.

Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.

The knocking returns less than a minute later.

---

There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.

Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.

Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.

Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.

Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.

Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.

"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.

Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.

It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.

The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.

"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.

"What are you -?"

"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."

---

He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.

"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.

Buck's scowl.

God.

"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."

"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."

Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."

The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.

"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.

It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.

The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.

This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.

Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.

Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.

That he'd forgotten about.

Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.

"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.

That somehow stings just a little bit extra.

Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.

"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.

"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.

"Cut it out, Buck."

Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."

---

The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.

Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.

Buck almost looks triumphant.

"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."

He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.

Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.

The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.

"This isn't everything."

Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.

"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.

He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.

He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.

Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.

"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.

"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."

"That's not fair."

"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."

"I know."

"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."

"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.

Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."

"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.

"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."

He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.

"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.

Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.

Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.

"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."

It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.

"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."

Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.

"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."

---

He goes in for the kill.

"I called Abby, two nights ago."

Right for the jugular. No survivors.

"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."

Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.

"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.

Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."

The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do this."

"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"

"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."

Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."

"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.

"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."

Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.

Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.

He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.

---

There is someone knocking at his door.

Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.

He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.

There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.

[ddarker-dreams]

Cherubim.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Implied trauma, Gojo and Geto are both weird + manipulative. Word count: 6k.

-Index-

March 18th, 2006. 

2:26 p.m.

-

Gojo Satoru has found himself embroiled in his greatest turmoil yet. 

Assassination attempts? That’s nothing, he’s waved those off since he was a kid. Jujutsu politics? The higher-ups can yap until they’re blue in the face; they’re all bark, no bite. Curses? Similarly inconsequential. No matter how much power they hold, they're reduced to speckled splatters the instant they cross his path. 

For most, experiencing one of these dilemmas would prove too overwhelming, much less all three. He isn’t like most, though. He’s strong. Incomprehensibly strong. He can weather any storm, shift the tides of any battle in his favor. Has this gone to his head? Absolutely. He can handle ‘too much.’ It’s ‘not enough’ that’s proving to be an issue. 

This is why he’s detailing his recent woes to an uninterested Ieri Shoko, who made the mistake of reading in the dormitory’s common area. 

The scene is as follows:

Satoru’s along the length of the couch, his long, lanky limbs dangling wherever they can. He lays his head against the armrest, snowy hair succumbing to gravity in an avalanche that frames his face. He uses his ability to keep his sunglasses from meeting the same fate. Behind the dark frames, his eyes narrow into a piercing stare. If the ceiling were sentient, it would’ve fled by now. Such is the potency of his miserable mood. 

Parallel to him sits Shoko, the fat of her cheek squished upward from resting on her fist for so long. Books, candy wrappers, and notes from last year’s curriculum yet to be thrown away litter the table’s surface. Suguru’s could put a calligraphist to shame, even if they were written in a Badtz-Maru pencil you won from a gachapon. Your notes stand out as well. They’re bright shades of your favorite colors, organized according to a system of your own devising. Occasionally, the handwriting shifts, taking on Suguru or Shoko’s likeness for trickier kanji. You doodle hearts of gratitude around the yomigana they include for good measure. 

(You complained that his handwriting was ‘indecipherable’ when he tried doing the same. Out of spite, he gave you the cold shoulder… for three minutes. He withers and wilts without your attention). 

He sighs and concludes his monologue. 

“So, that just about sums everything up. Well? What’s the prognosis, Doc?” 

“You’re in desperate need of more friends,” Shoko replies. Satoru lets out an unsatisfied grunt. “And you miss [First].” 

Satoru perks up at your mention, finally giving that poor ceiling a much-needed reprieve. He shuffles around until he’s facing Shoko. 

“But she just headed out yesterday.” 

“I know.” 

“That’d make me really weird and clingy, right?” 

“Glad you’re catching on.” 

While Satoru contemplates the previously unconsidered possibility of him being ‘really weird and clingy,’ Shoko reopens her manga. She’s of the mistaken belief that the issue has resolved itself. Unfortunately for her, the problem extends beyond Satoru’s insatiable hunger for you. The problem is Satoru himself. Until he’s running amuck elsewhere, there’ll be no solace. 

She commends herself for her patience. 

In typical Satoru fashion, he continues testing it. 

“When was the last time you updated your passport?” 

“I’m not flying to her home country with you,” Shoko shuts down what he thought was a brilliant plan. “It’s just two weeks. Wait it out.” 

“What if we fly first class?” 

“Gojo.” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s still too soon to meet her parents. It’s gotta happen eventually though, right?” 

Shoko doesn’t dignify this with a response. 

Satoru sinks into the cushions. Could there be anything worse than boredom? He has no missions lined up, you and Suguru are visiting family, and the first-years haven’t arrived yet. Pestering Utahime has lost its charm too. He could return home before the school year starts, but he’d rather have his fingers chopped off one by one than suffer that torture. 

“Hey, Shoko.” 

“Mm.” 

“Why aren’t you back home? I thought you got along with your parents.” 

“They’re both busy. I wouldn’t see them much.” 

Satoru doesn’t press the matter. 

It does intrigue him though — the relationship sorcerers have with their non-sorcerer families. Or, to be more specific, yours and Suguru’s familial dynamics intrigue him. Satoru can’t (and doesn’t bother trying) to care for the going-ons of anyone outside his small circle. This is more the hubris of a teenager who has been told he’s special his entire life than anything malicious. To Satoru, the world’s population might as well be stuck at three. 

Regardless, it’s an improvement.

Before meeting Suguru, those in his life consisted almost exclusively of suckups or stuckups. If he was unlucky, it’d be both, rolled into one terrible package. This was his reality. Jujutsu was his reality. He was the first to possess the Limitless and the Six Eyes in generations. The Gojo clan wouldn’t waste such an extraordinary opportunity. He was their pride and joy, personality aside. 

He was born to be the strongest. 

He can’t imagine any other life for himself. 

Then there’s you. 

He could see you leading a normal life. You wouldn’t be top of the class or a varsity athlete, but you’d be well-liked. Boys would nervously ask you out on dates and buy you roses with money they got from mowing lawns. You’d be the first one your friends would call when they experienced heartache. Maybe you’d go to college or land an entry-level job. Some co-worker with a decent sense of humor would win you over. Then you’d get married, rent a property, have a few kids… 

Satoru’s stomach twists. He grimaces, shifting his thoughts elsewhere. Namely, the question that’s bothered him for a while. 

Why did you become a jujutsu sorcerer? 

It was intentional. You chose to leave behind your home, your family. You knew the risks. How the body can break and ache in ways previously unrecorded. And what do you get in return for this thankless crusade? Sleepless nights where you tremble like a leaf beside Shoko? A nimbleness at dressing wounds that could only have come from years of practice? 

You’re open about everything until you aren’t. Fear, mortality, loss — when confronted by these unsightly truths, you retreat to someplace he can’t follow. 

Satoru can’t make sense of it. Neither can Suguru. Shoko says they shouldn’t press the matter. He wants to, though. He needs to know how you break. How else can he ensure that you never will? 

He thinks back to that humid August day. The binding vow eviscerated your insides, shards from fractured bones dug into your organs. Until that point in his life, Satoru prided himself on his immunity to fear. The pathogen never lasted long in his system. After all, fear is born from a lack of control. From having something to lose. If he couldn’t lose, what was there to be afraid of? 

It’s a question he’s been avoiding. 

(“If she dies,” he told Suguru, in a voice he barely recognized as his own, “They die too.”)

His mouth feels dry, his tongue heavy. He’ll drink that tea you’re fond of later to satiate his thirst. He wonders if you share its taste.

“What’re you reading, anyway?” he asks, hoping to take his mind elsewhere.

“Fruits Basket.” 

He laughs, incredulous. 

“Seriously? Didn’t take you for a shoujo type.” 

“I borrowed it from [First]. We’re doing a book exchange over break.” 

A book exchange… three words Satoru never thought would pique his curiosity. However, anything about you demands his undying attention. Even if it’s shoujo manga. Girls who read that genre do it to project onto the heroine, right? So the love interest must have appealed to you. What tropes do you like? Do you want a shy, sensitive soul who blushes and stutters in your presence? A misunderstood bad boy who’s only soft around you? The responsible student council president? 

Oh, he’ll have so much material to tease you with when you return. He can’t wait. 

“How do I enter this exclusive book club?” Satoru demands. 

“You don’t. I don’t trust your taste,” Shoko replies, much to his chagrin. “You can still read it, though. She has all of the volumes in her room.” 

… Your room? 

He grins from ear to ear.

Should he respect your privacy? Probably. Is he going to? Of course not. He never has, there’s no point in starting now. 

This trip of yours might yet redeem itself. 

-

Along the outskirts of Jujutsu High, Geto Suguru spots an odd woman. 

She’s wearing a baggy graphic tee, low-rise jeans, and gaudy bracelets on both arms. Her black hair is tossed up, thick strands sticking in every direction. Even from this distance, he can discern the silver glint of piercings that dot her ear like constellations. The stranger stands slouched, both her hands shoved into her pockets. For her to have gotten this far, she can’t be a civilian. Those unfamiliar with jujutsu can’t find this place. 

He stays still for a spell — watching and waiting. From this distance, she shouldn’t be able to sense his presence. It’s one of the few areas he excels at over Satoru. Satoru’s cursed energy is bright, blindingly so, a thunderous clap that can be heard for miles. Suguru prefers to keep his muted. It coils around his limbs like a serpent, never straying far. This is why you had no difficulty picking out Satoru’s stupefying presence on your first day, whereas he had to make himself known to you. 

Suguru’s lips quirk up. 

He was fated to meet you. 

“Hey! Kiddo!” A deep, somewhat raspy voice exclaims. He blinks rapidly, temporarily thrown off. “This ain’t an art gallery. What’s with the staring?” 

She noticed him? How? 

When the stranger starts slinking his way, he regains his composure. 

“I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable,” Suguru’s cadence flows smoother than a river. 

“Hah! ‘Uncomfortable?’ That’s a way of putting it,” she pokes the space beneath her emerald eyes twice. “Even now, I can feel ya picking me apart. Shit’s creepy.” 

His smile tightens. “I’ll be more mindful of my conduct in the future, then.” 

She waves him off. Her golden bracelets clink together as she does so, the sound grating his ears. 

“That’s a lie if I ever heard one. And I should know. Schemers excel at picking out their brothers in arms,” she juts her head up, giving the impression that she’s the one looking down on him, despite the slight height difference. 

“Anyhow, by the looks of it, you must be Sugu-kun.” 

… Did she just call him Sugu-kun? 

“What? Too soon* to be calling you that? Heh, heh…” 

Suguru’s smile tightens. “You can refer to me however you like, so long as I can return the favor.” 

She guffaws.

“Maaan, Goldie sure was gracious in her description of you,” the woman gives him a lopsided grin. “Name’s Akane. There — is the playing field leveled now?” 

“Ishimoto Akane?”

He doesn’t miss the way she winces as her surname is spoken aloud, rather pointedly at that. 

“Ah. S’pose I had that coming.” 

Suguru decides against prolonging her torment. He’s in a generous mood, it isn’t every day he has a chance to learn more about you. This is an opportunity he’ll take full advantage of. 

“And I presume 'Goldie' is [First]?” 

He makes a mental note to figure out the wordplay for your nickname later. 

“Full marks.”

Suguru hums, a sound indicating that he’s drifting deep into thought. 

You don’t mention your mentor often. When you do, it’s normally in the form of endearing (if not mildly concerning) anecdotes.

“She told me that natto is bits of caramel held together by melted marshmallows, like a Rice Krispy Treat. It… it was not like a Rice Krispy Treat…” 

“... For my twelfth birthday, she got me Pokemon Ruby. I remember crying because Roxeanne’s Nosepass took out my Torchic. My cursed energy spiked and the party had to end early…” 

“... Out of curiosity, I drank her stash of Georgia canned coffee. My heart rate was almost high enough to warrant a trip to the ER…” 

Getting anything else relating to her out of you was like trying to wring water from a rock. Suguru didn’t miss the wistful melancholy underpinning your stories. You recalled them with a far-off expression as if mourning that those days of whimsy were over. Initially, he considered it a consequence of growing up. Childhood idols rarely remain highly esteemed as the years pass and maturity accrues. 

His intuition argued that he should examine the issue closer.

(“I met her, y’know,” Satoru mentioned whilst he spun in a rolling chair ‘commandeered’ from Yaga. “Akane. Our girl’s mentor. Former mentor? Whatever the case is.” 

Suguru sat his pencil aside, any investment in his studies gone.

“When?” 

“Last March.” 

Suguru sighed. “And you didn’t bring this up earlier because…?” 

There’s a twinkle in his companion’s sunglasses-covered eyes.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Satoru shrugged. 

Liar, Suguru thought, unamused by Satoru’s faux nonchalance. He must’ve had his reasons for neglecting to mention it for so long. Suguru figured your impending trip home had something to do with Satoru’s ‘miraculously’ cured amnesia. 

“What? Don’t tell me you aren’t curious.”

The provocation failed to irk him. Instead, Suguru refocused the conversation.“Tell me your impression of her.”

Satoru stilled, threw his feet atop Suguru’s desk, and placed his hands on his neck. “About what you’d expect from a disgraced daughter of an influential clan. Bad-tempered, tattooed, pierced up… hah! Bet her old man would go into cardiac arrest if he saw her.” 

“Satoru,” he implored. 

“Fine, fine. So impatient,” The white-haired sorcerer complained. “I misread her. She got all mopey after she fessed up about Cursed Technique: Null. I wrote it off as envy. The student exceeding the master, or whatever.” 

Satoru remained silent for a moment. “Post Kaizu, though, I assume the feeling actually gnawing at her… ” 

Kaizu. 

Panicked phone calls. Satoru’s agitated exclamations. His horrified silence. Your breathing faded, theirs accelerated. You looked so small. So human. He scarcely believed the limp girl cradled in his arms just executed such a devastating maneuver. Your cursed energy had exceeded any output he’d felt from you before. It was too much, your body wasn’t ready to endure a spike like that. 

Suguru had never felt so distant from the title ‘strongest.’

At some point later on, in a hospital waiting room, Suguru posed a question. 

Satoru heard him yet offered no response.

“Who taught her how to do that?”

“... was guilt.”)

“You didn’t visit her.” 

Akane blinks. 

“Hah?” 

“You didn’t visit her,” Suguru repeats, his tone firmer. “[First]. Your student.” 

She exhales shakily. Suguru thinks she looks tired. 

“If you have something to say, just come out with it already.” 

He was prepared to wear her down for hours — this willing cooperation saves him time. Although, it doesn’t make navigating the volatile minefield that lies ahead any easier. He knows how to rein Satoru in when he’s going too far. He can fluster you without giving too much of himself away. After rescuing someone from a curse, he knows the exact pitch, timbre, and tempo necessary to pierce through their abject horror. He’s a virtuoso at playing people, a conductor hidden amidst the audience. 

Deceit. Misdirection. Coercion. 

His repertoire is expansive and ever-growing. 

From what he can see — what he can feel — the prodigal daughter before him boasts a similar discography. She returns his unflinching eye contact as if issuing a challenge. Daring him to use dubious methods that might work on anyone else. This obstinate resolve reminds him of you. Once you’ve determined your course, even he struggles to change the route.

He abandons all pretense. 

“You didn’t want her here,” he theorizes. Akane’s face reveals nothing. “You knew something like that was bound to happen.” 

Sorcerers aren’t only at war with curses. No, there’s an inner battle that must be fought as well. The recognition that the next assignment could be your last. And if it is, you won’t be commemorated by the masses; to them, you don’t exist. Your sacrifice will be known to a select few who mourn you, or  a few who don’t. Everything could go right. Everything could go wrong. Engaging in that high risk for such a low reward goes against one’s self-preservation instincts.

How each sorcerer handles this fight is unique to them. 

As for your strategy — you refuse to acknowledge this conflict exists. 

Paradoxically enough, that functions as your self-preservation. 

Akane smiles thinly. She’s almost his reflection, in that regard.

“Full marks.” 

-

Suguru idly observes as Satoru paces back and forth, his troubled figure illuminated by a row of vending machines. 

A nearby street lamp flickers. It’s late, but the local convenience stores glow with artificial light, tempting customers to come inside. Some are weary salarymen grabbing ready-made meals, others are middle schoolers clinking their change together, praying they can afford a sugary treat. The latest group cheers, indicating their triumph. 

The duo receives odd looks — thanks to their school uniforms, no doubt — not that they pay the judgment any mind. No one troubles them. Not even a wandering policeman, who, under normal circumstances, would scold minors out by themselves at night. 

Suguru theorizes that Satoru’s ominous aura is what subconsciously repels them. 

Earlier today, Suguru bid farewell to his parents and boarded a train for Tokyo. As nice as it was to spend time with his family, he’d been looking forward to reuniting with you and Satoru. He amassed quite the phone bill thanks to your frequent correspondence. Nonetheless, he carried the minor debt with pride; it’s a sign you often thought about him. He planned for Satoru to assume the debt by dangling the pictures you sent his way as ransom. 

His encounter with Ishimoto Akane grounded his soaring mood. This was made worse when he entered the dormitory, only to find a tight-lipped Shoko and agitated Satoru. 

Shoko remarked that unlike the two of them, she’d be handling things with ‘tact,’ and retired for the evening, not wanting to catch their ‘stupidity contagion.’ 

It’d been hours since then. That time stretch brought them closer to revealing the complete picture, but a few pieces remained missing or incomplete. 

The frenetic sorcerer stills and rummages around in his pocket.

Suguru takes the opportunity to break the silence. “I—” 

He cuts himself off as Satoru whips out a familiar-looking chapstick. The cutesy design befitting your aesthetic stands out like a sore thumb in Satoru’s large, calloused hands. 

“... Where did you get that?” 

“[First]’s room,” is Satoru’s response, spoken nonchalantly whilst applying it to his lips. “Why?” 

Suguru snorts. Sometimes Satoru’s ungodly strength blinds him to the fact that he’s still a teenage boy. 

“Won’t she notice it’s missing?” 

“I replaced it.” 

“Ah.”

“She has plenty more in the drawer beneath her vanity if you want one.” 

Suguru knows the exact spot Satoru’s referring to. They both helped you assemble it (Satoru got bored fifteen minutes in and fell asleep on your bed but still claims credit). 

After noting this suggestion, he asks, “Have you calmed down?” 

Satoru barks out a ‘hah!’ as if he’d just heard a hilarious joke. “Me? Shouldn’t I be askin’ you that?” 

Suguru massages his temples, sensing the looming headache that awaits him. “Satoru…” 

“We could follow her residuals, you know,” Satoru suggests. He tips his sunglasses down, revealing eyes that gleam with predatory intent. “With the Six Eyes, it’d be a walk in the park.” 

“And then what?” 

“Oh, you know, chat about the weather, latest political scandals, that sort of thing.” 

“You can’t strong-arm yourself through everything in life, Satoru,” Suguru chastises. 

Satoru opens and closes his lips. He folds his arms, scrunches his eyebrows together, and rapidly taps his foot. The shift puts Suguru at ease. Satoru adopts this countenance on the rare occurrence he’s faced with a formidable threat. The serious, almost somber visage speaks to his ironclad resolve. Suguru may have told his companion that he can’t strong-arm himself through everything, but that’s a half-truth; the Gojo clan’s pride can do whatever he pleases. 

It’s consideration of the aftermath that Suguru wishes to instill in his companion. Tempering the arrogance of a God is no easy feat. 

“... She isn’t going anywhere,” Satoru declares, as if any other outcome was blasphemous. 

“She isn’t,” Suguru agrees. Then, he lowers his voice, adding, “We can’t disregard what Ishimoto-san is getting at, though.” 

“Simple — all our girl needs is a good ol’ fashioned intervention.” 

“An ‘intervention,’” Suguru deadpans. “Didn’t you already try that?” 

Satoru smiles in a way Suguru can only describe as dopey, reminiscing on the night you got ‘mad at him for wanting you to be mad at him.’ That’s how Suguru interpreted the detailed account Satoru gave the next morning, anyway. 

(“I wish she would’ve cried, just a little bit; it would’ve made her look extra cute,” Satoru cooed, to which Suguru shot him an exasperated look. “Oh, don’t act so high and mighty. You’d make her cry just so you could wipe her tears away.”)

Suguru shakes his head. “Here’s what I think — the self-sacrifice in and of itself isn’t the problem. Well, the main problem. There has to be a reason, something personal… identifying that takes priority.” 

A gust rips through the narrow street, howling as it terrorizes store signs and doors with weak hinges. The two strongest sorcerers remain oblivious to the drift. What occupies their mind is greater than any force of nature, insignificant or otherwise. They have the means to challenge natural phenomena itself. And they would, should they deem it an obstacle to their goals. This single-minded determination is what elevates them beyond the rest. 

“I guess the old man has a soft spot for us after all,” Satoru says, referring to Yaga, Suguru guesses.

Breathlessly, he chuckles. “Maybe.” 

Studying Satoru from his peripherals, he silently mulls over the far likelier reality—  

—that Yaga understands Satoru’s potential for saving this world is matched only by his capacity to condemn it. 

-

From a young age, Ieri Shoko found irony everywhere she looked.

It’s prevalent in the medical field she wishes to pursue. When stabbed, it’s better to leave the knife in than immediately pull it out. For an immune system to better defend itself from a virus, it must first be exposed to it in trace amounts. If an appendage becomes too infected, removing that piece of the body is better than keeping it whole. It was you who pointed out this theme extends into the world of jujutsu. 

“You’d think fighting to survive a curse instead of defeating it would be an okay alternative, right?” You had said. “But really… that just means someone else gets to foot the bill. All ‘cause you cheaped out.” 

She regrets not asking you to elaborate. At the time, the observation felt so personal, so intimately interwoven with who you are, that she thought it best to leave it alone. 

Watching you now, lounging on the swing beside her, she’s determined not to repeat her previous mistake. 

“Tired?” 

“Well, yeah,” you laugh. It sounds off. “I wasn’t meant for long flights. It takes everything out of me, y’know?” 

Shoko unsuccessfully digs around her pocket for a lighter. The search ceases when she recalls its inopportune location — left behind in her dorm room in the rush to be the one who reaches you first. Not sure what else to do with her hands, she folds them onto her lap. Meanwhile, you pick at a stray thread on your jeans. 

“I didn’t mean from traveling,” she clarifies. 

“Hm?” 

“How many curses did you exorcise back home?” 

Your fingers go still.

“I dunno… a few?” You shrug, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “If I happen across them, I’m not gonna just let them run amuck. That’d be irresponsible.” 

Your nonchalance comes across as forced. You may be keeping your words lighthearted, but she can tell you’ve dialed up your senses, monitoring her closely. It reminds her of a cornered mouse. It’s then that any lingering doubt over her choices leading up to this moment dispels. Resolve strengthened, she swears to make as much progress as she possible before those two catch on. She felt a bit bad lying about your flight’s time, but felt the situation justified the call. 

“It feels different when they’re close to home, doesn’t it?” 

Shoko’s eyes scan over the lively park before them. There’s a group of children playing with one another, some scouring the grass for bugs and others playing tag. Their guardians watch from a distance, chatting amongst themselves, likely discussing the upcoming poor weather or latest neighborhood scandals. Young couples walk hand in hand along the pathways, cheeks flushed from the joy of experiencing their first love. 

“Encountering a curse is draining. Fighting them, even more so. But when they’re on a street you walk every day, or a few blocks over from your house, you can’t help but start thinking. ‘What if I hadn’t come this way? Would it have hurt people I know? People I love and care about?’”

Her eyes find yours. “‘What if it killed them?’”

You look like you’re going to be sick. 

She ignores how your expression contorts her stomach and continues. “Sorcerers are in the minority, it’s true. So… fighting to survive isn’t selfish. It’s strategic.”

In the distance, the rough silhouette of two individuals grows clearer. The spotlight she commandeered grows fainter with their every step. In what remains of the fading limelight, she considers you. The CC cream that conceals the worst of your exhaustion, how your pupils dilate from high caffeine intake, then your fingers. The keys that when steepled just so, open the future for others at the cost of permanently locking yours. 

She reaches over and gently squeezes your hand. 

“Remember — we won’t be much help to anyone if we’re six feet under. So let’s aim to stay above ground.” 

-

The evening sun sinks into the horizon, demanding acknowledgment in its final moments by dousing all in a fiery hue. 

Your uniform absorbs the brunt of this last stand. The dark fabric devours the waning sunlight, heating you from head to toe. It didn’t fully occur to you that you were back when you walked through the torii gates lining the mountainous path. Nor when you unpacked in your dorm, stuffing your passport away until your next break, where it’ll serve you faithfully again. 

Instead, it was the simple act of putting your uniform on again that made home seem far, far away. 

You’d gotten used to your clothes smelling like your mother’s preferred detergent. It’s a brand you couldn’t find in Japan, sold exclusively in your home country. You wondered what meal your parents were having when you straightened out your collar. If your neighbor ever fixed that rumble their old sedan huffed out as you slipped into your tights. Whether your grandpa knew you’d landed safely when you brushed lint off your skirt. 

The campus atmosphere is serene. Tengen’s barrier is a bulwark against curses, insulating you from any potential threats. Without this assurance, some part of you was always on the defensive, anticipating anything when you slept in your childhood bedroom. It siphoned away your vitality, just like Shoko pointed out. 

You sniffle and kick a rock aside. 

How does it always end up like this?

First Akane, now Shoko, you hug yourself. I just want to protect others. What’s so wrong with that? If I don’t, then who will?

You pause abruptly. 

When Akane began mentoring you, the world as you knew it changed. Suddenly, you were given knowledge no one else was privy to, for they lacked the tools to comprehend it. You’d seen those ‘creatures’, but it was Akane that explained their malevolent nature. What they could do, the pain they inflicted, how defenseless the population at large was against them. 

The shadow that this monstrous threat cast could never be outshone by light. The best you could do was create safe pockets the size of pins in the darkness. That was the extent of your hope, the most bitter pill you’ve ever swallowed.

The lingering specter of Shoko’s reassuring touch prickles along your hand. 

It’s easy to forget you’re not alone anymore after fighting by yourself for so long. 

-

Eventually, you happen upon a clearing near the school’s main grounds. 

The steep inclines surround a sizable outdoor track. This area is known colloquially as the school’s training grounds. You prefer to train in a more secluded, wooded area, but not everyone shares your enthusiasm for subtlety. Namely, the two prodigies who have turned the field into a colosseum that’d rival the battles of ancient Rome. 

You take a seat on the grassy hill and watch what unfolds. 

Your eyes can scarcely follow the blows Suguru and Satoru exchange. Their sparring sessions are unreal — blurring the very fabric of reality. Somehow, they manage all this without using cursed energy. The spectacle you’re witnessing is simply hand-to-hand combat. It’s like watching a film with skipping frames. In a matter of seconds, they can travel a hundred meters and return to their original position. Your brain struggles to process the stimuli your senses are feeding it. 

They were already strong when you met them. But now? The nomenclature doesn’t exist to properly classify them. 

And in the future… 

There’s no telling what highs they’ll reach or the ceilings they’ll shatter. 

Their light is the most dazzling you’ve ever seen.

Within a few minutes, they conclude their training session. Satoru instantly beelines toward you, whereas Suguru cycles through stretches. There’s not even a single drop of sweat on Satoru’s body as he plops to your right. He’s wearing his signature sunglasses, despite the night's looming shadow. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep or something?” Satoru asks. “It’s past your bedtime.”

You punch him lightly on the shoulder. He yelps out an exaggerated ‘ouch!’ rubbing the area to soothe the nonexistent wound. 

Suguru approaches at a far more leisurely pace, sending a wave that you return in kind. 

Satoru, not one to be forgotten, yells out, “Be careful, Suguru! She’s violent!” 

“Only against those who deserve it,” Suguru replies.

Fondness blossoms inside your chest as you laugh. You’d forgotten how simple life feels around them. It’s as if when the three of you are together, you’re swallowed by a pocket dimension, isolated from everyone and everything. Permanently inhabiting this utopia is a temptation. 

Satoru places his hands behind his head and lays onto the ground. “Here I am, potentially out of commission forever, without a single ounce of sympathy to show for it.” 

“We could always settle in court,” you offer. 

Suguru stands before you, hands on his hips. “Or he could finally figure out how to use reverse cursed technique.” 

At this, Satoru shoots back up, his sunglasses falling askew. “Hah? Last I recall, you gave yourself a headache giving it a go. At least I’m not that bad.” 

“Hurdles are necessary to improve. Without any, how do you know you’re truly making progress?” 

Satoru gives him a grossed-out look. “All this philosophizing is gonna turn your hair gray before you hit twenty.” 

“That’s rich, coming from the guy whose hair is already white,” You point out. “What’s that say about you?” 

Suguru muffles his laughter behind his hand. 

Satoru’s quick to overcome his incredulity. “It says that I’m going to spoil the next volume of Inuyasha. Sesshomaru—” 

You cover your ears and sprint off. “Can’t hear you, can’t hear you, can’t hear you…!” 

He chases after you, periodically shouting the names of the main characters right when you think he’s finished. You do your best to block out his voice, running like your life depends on it. He’s hot on your heels, cackling at your expense. After a stretch of silence, you uncover your ears, hesitantly turning around to check if he’s finished his torture. 

You meet Satoru’s gaze. His lips are parted, his eyebrows slightly raised. Your reflection in his dark lenses appears equally perplexed. He straightens his sunglasses and regards you with an unreadable expression. 

“... You’ve gotten faster.” 

The comment is so quiet, you’re unsure if you heard him correctly. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing,” he dismisses, waving you off. “You shoujo-loving types sure take this stuff seriously. It’s almost cultish.” 

“I don’t wanna hear that from the guy who references Digimon like it’s some sorta scripture!” 

“Honda Tohru is a lame heroine.” 

You audibly gasp. “Wh— you take that back!” 

And so it’s your turn to chase Satoru, who, for reasons unknown, is oddly knowledgeable regarding Fruits Basket. 

-

“Could you guys be honest with me about something?” 

“All depends.” 

“Of course.” 

Satoru and Suguru’s responses come out simultaneously, the contents offering little reassurance. You’re not sure what you expected. Nonetheless, you press past the gnawing discomfort, your conversation with Shoko a fresh memory. 

“Did Akane stop by while I was gone?” 

You scrutinize their countenances for involuntary reactions that might betray their inner thoughts. You begin with Satoru, who was in the middle of cleaning his sunglasses when you posed the question. His eyes, which normally brim with mischief, have an eerie calmness about them; like sheets of ice that were once choppy waters. He smiles softly and slips his lenses back into place, undoubtedly aware of the intent behind your stare. 

Then there’s Suguru. He hums, as if finding your inquiry unexpected and not an inevitable point of contention. He’s a more challenging puzzle to decipher than Satoru. With the latter, you can roughly gauge the greater picture, blurry and incomplete as it may be. Suguru, on the other hand, hasn’t given you enough pieces to attempt a solution. 

Satoru continues mulling over your question while Suguru responds, “Is that what’s been worrying you lately?” 

So they picked up on it too, you think. 

Frowning, you shift in your seat. Blades of grass tickle your thighs and you push your skirt down. 

“Er… not that, specifically,” you admit. You feel like you’re surrounded by walls that know just how far to close in to give the impression you might be crushed. “I just… I’ve been thinking. About why I’m here— what I’ll go on to do. And, well…” 

Much to their surprise, you stand, squeeze your eyes shut, and bow ninety degrees. 

“For so long, I’ve carried this burden. The truth is, when I first learned about Null, I was relieved. I’d always have something to rely on in the worst-case scenario. But at the same time… that meant not using it could also be a mistake. You have no idea how much that scared me.” 

You curl your hands up into fists. “I don’t want to think that way anymore. I see it now — have for a while, actually — strength I couldn’t even imagine before. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m in your care. If it’s alright, I want to rely on others, starting with you two.” 

Your heart pounds wildly in the silence that follows. 

Maybe this is selfish too, you think. But I don’t want to be alone anymore. 

You hear Suguru speak your name. It isn’t until he repeats it, his tone kind yet firm, that you straighten yourself and face him. 

Satoru stands further back, scratching his neck. Much to your confusion, a red flush has risen to his cheeks, extending up to his ears. Suguru corrects your staring by taking your face in his hands and redirecting your attention to him. Warmth envelops you. Your faces are inches apart, but somehow, the distance feels nonexistent, like he’s peering into your mind unhindered. 

“Surely, you can dream bigger than that,” Suguru chastises.

“... Eh?” 

“Do you think so little of us?” Satoru grumbles. It almost sounds like he’s pouting. Was he not listening to anything you just said? The sincerity behind your every word? Why are they both acting like you insulted them? 

“Eh?!” 

“I’m glad you’ve come to this realization, but… you don’t have to rely on anyone else. Just us,” Suguru takes a step back, though he keeps one hand cupping your cheek. You feel lightheaded. “After all…” 

“... We’re the strongest.” 

notes:

*this pun actually works decently in english ?? but akane is making a reference to how suguru sounds phonetically similar to すぐ, or sugu, which means 'soon.'

[tanadrin]

I feel like a conspiracy theorist, but I'm convinced the GOP cheated by disenfranchising enough voters to win. Not just in swing states. The margins in every state are weird. A few thousand votes here and there across every county. The huge number of split ticket votes. The sudden loss of 12 million democratic voters despite record early voting turnout and voter registration?

It doesn't add up. It doesn't make sense.

So many people who had confirmation of their ballot being received and accepted are now finding out that they were unregistered or there was a "problem" with it.

They were saying for months that they didn't need anyone's vote. The betting market manipulation. The billionaire backers. Elon Musk's grubby hands all over the election.

They did steal the election. And we'll probably never find out how.

in the broad sense, yes, american elections should be fairer, and the franchise should be more universal. in the narrow sense--this is cope. purges of voter rolls happen in public. there's litigation on them all the time. a purge of 12 million voters from voter roles would not have gone unnoticed. to account for all these factors you would need an improbably large conspiracy. (stealing elections in the united states would be hard. each state administers its own elections! you'd have to steal 50 elections. and once again, this would be a case of someone rigging the presidential election and forgetting to rig any of the downballot races, which would be stupid.) including a conspiracy to rig most polling, given the outcome was within the margin of error of most polling averages for this election.

i get why it's the preferable scenario--people aren't dumb! my opponents are just evil! there's some optimism in that--but "i personally do not understand how this outcome could have occurred" does not mean it was a conspiracy.

So many people who had confirmation of their ballot being received and accepted are now finding out that they were unregistered or there was a "problem" with it.

this is normal and you typically have several days after the election to amend your ballot if there was a problem with it. if you do, it still counts. fun word problem time: if ~150 million people vote in an election, and 0.001% post on twitter about how they needed to amend their ballot (especially in non-swing states), how many twitter posts in a row do you have to see to convince yourself there is a ~conspiracy~ afoot?

fun second word problem: out of seven swing states, how many were governed by the opposing party or someone who had publicly opposed donald trump's election subversion attempts in 2020?

fun third word problem: do you know how elections in your state work? do you know which state official is in charge of administering them, and their party affiliation? do you know what the margins of downballot races like house and senate in your state were this election, and their relative swing from 2020? in short, do you know in detail how elections in the US work and what "typical" voting patterns look like, or are you just going off of vibes from a vaguely paranoid local bubble in social media?

[randum-famdoms]

Man the jumpscare I got when I saw I’d been mentioned in a post by someone I don’t know lol.

In case you’re still curious, I did in fact get my number by first searching Goncharov and then clicking on the official fandom tag - both while logged in. No filters were used, just the number under the official fandom tag. Also it was on mobile, an iPhone and I’m in America and NOT using a vpn. Idk if that affects anything tho. Sometimes country borders make shit weird.

Here’s a screenshot I took less than a minute ago using the same exact process as when I made my original post. Seems like no new fics have been posted in the fandom tag in a long while.

Also, here’s some proof that no filters were used to make the number smaller:

If I had to guess, then the higher numbers were probably through just slapping Goncharov into the search bar like prev deduced - which while useful for gauging its general levels of cultural awareness and memetic spread/longevity, is not a good gauge for putting the amount of fics in a fandom into relative perspective.

To test this, I have done exactly that. Peer review and all. These screenshots show what it looks like when I simply type Goncharov into the search bar:

You can tell that there are no other filters and I’m not in an official tag or fandom based on the text under search results and the fact that the button below that says “edit your search” and not “filters”.

The number is much higher, and it matches up with the previous higher numbers people have listed. It fits within the projected growth, which I did not calculate but rough estimates are good enough for his bullshit and I should have been asleep over an hour ago; I am not doing more math for this.

The screenshot shows that using this second method fics in completely different fandoms will show up - such as a miraculous ladybug fic, just because Goncharov is tagged despite it not being a Goncharov fic. It’s like if you tried to include people who took adderall at a party one but who don’t have adhd in the statistics for how many college students have adhd just because they took adhd medication one time.

Basically, it completely defeats the point of the Goncharov index - which is meant to compare fic amounts between fandoms. Including other fandoms in the gonch side of the index is literally the opposite of scientific integrity.

Anyway it’s now an hour and a half after I intended to be asleep, so imma go now. This dumb index has made me willingly engage in the scientific method/math late at night twice now and I’m not happy about it. Bye.

people trying to insist a fandom is tiny when it /only/ has a few thousand works on ao3 meanwhile my current fandom is a sixteen book series and has several hundred fewer works than goncharov, a movie that, and i cannot stress this enough, doesn’t even exist

[alexanderwales]

I finished rewatching Death Note. I always forget how short anime is, with episodes that aren't much more than 20 minutes when you skip the intro/outro.

I hadn't remembered how much of a sniveling wreck LIght was at the end of the show. There's something about the ending that makes it feel like it was written and directed by a different person, not that Light wasn't always a little weird and pathetic, and not that the show didn't consistently go out of its way to let us know what a piece of shit he was (particularly his absolute lack of loyalty or empathy to anyone, even aside from the megalomania). But he takes the loss like a loser, snot dripping from his nose, voice cracking, begging, and it's so pathetic that I almost felt a little sorry for him.

I've always found the Death Note to be a very interesting prompt, one of those hooks that's so good I'd want to watch it even if it was bad. But in writing something like Death Note, the author has to make decisions about what to show and what not to show, and also make decisions about how they're going to portray the public at large.

There are two big things that stand out for me.

One is that we never get someone arguing against Kira. We get people who are actively trying to hunt him down, but they're mostly not stopping to say "this is why what he's doing is wrong" except a few lines about how he has a childish sense of justice, which is never expounded upon. Kira, on the other hand, we hear a lot from, not just the megalomaniac stuff, but the notion that criminals must be punished, that this is what people desire in their hearts. I get the strong sense that L does not actually care and just views this as an interesting puzzle for him to solve, but for everyone else it's largely left as an exercise to the viewer, and even then, there are moments when some of our task force members come dangerously close to endorsement.

To the extent the show has an answer, it's that (to quote Kanye West) no one man should have all that power, or that Kira has crossed a lot of lines, but no one argues in favor of rehabilitation or clemency or just fundamental humanity. Kira seems to largely be killing prisoners, who have already been sentenced, and are wards of the state, and he says "this is what people want deep down, they will give you the politically correct answer but they actually want the criminal class to be obliterate", which ... there's no character who actually voices any opposition to through the whole series. And I find that weird, because yes, the show has its own answers in terms of how it plays out, but in a show filled with people possessed of immense conviction, most of the people in opposition to Kira are just intellectuals who don't actually give a shit about the ideological question.

(The one big moment when it comes to a head, IMO, is when Soichiro Yagami refuses to write Mello's name entirely because of his principled objection to killing someone. I thought this was great, and I wish the show had more of it.)

The other big thing is that we don't really get a viewpoint of the criminals, with a few exceptions. One is the is Yotsuba group, who are killing people with the Death Note, and the second is the (somehow still functional) mafia that Mello hangs out with. There's also one other scene somewhere after L's death where we see a criminal begging with the police not to have his name written down, and that's about it.

The naive view here is that the show really does believe in Criminals as being a part The Other, a different sort of human being who walk among us. The criminal class are described as rotten and evil, they're shown as grotesque and with exaggerated features or bestial characteristics, and they're generally leering and impulsive. There is no consideration of their humanity.

There's a more nuanced take here, which is that we have a criminal as one of our main cast, Light Yagami, along with everyone else who takes on the Kira mantle. So what is the show saying about criminality through how it portrays them? And here ... I don't know. I kind of don't think that it views them as criminals in the same way? When we look at the ways that Light kills, I genuinely do think that the show thinks that this is different from the way that a capital-C Criminals kill. It's reactionary rather than criminal in and of itself, a response to the injustices of the world rather than being in the same class as those injustices. Light is narratively exempted, and Misa is to. Which isn't to say that I think the show thinks highly of Light, it clearly doesn't, especially in its ending, but I almost think that in the end it Others him too (and also has Teru Mikami drawn in particularly 'evil' style, like a creepy deviant gremlin).

So I enjoyed the rewatch, but there are things that sit a little oddly with me as far as the central themes go. There's probably some discourse I should read that's come out since I first watched it in ... 2010 or whenever, but I think I'll give that a skip.

[bunnys-kisses]

hi bunny!!! can i submit a request for kevin magnussen? something like a mafia!au where he’s big and scary except for when he’s with reader?💞

kevin magnussen

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!kevin, size difference/kink, doggy style, protective!kevin, reader doesn't know he's mafia, creepy men, mentions of blood and violence, body worship

thank you lovely anon for this idea! i know i usually get bakery submissions, but i do accept other ideas you might have! so this was a pleasant surprise in my inbox!

coming to copenhagen wasn't on your bucket list of dreams. while it was for some, you only took the job because the hours were better. and after a nasty break up only a few months prior, it felt like a good idea to be in another part of the globe. while you missed family, there was something about the unknown that made you pack your belongings (and cat) and head to denmark.

you knew living abroad would have its risks. they were put to rest when you met a tattooed gentleman with the kindest eyes. his name was kevin, kevin magnussen

kevin was an interesting man. you had met him after a blind date fell through and he was at a nearby table by himself. he was waiting for 'friends', but didn't mind spending some time with you. before his 'friends' arrived he ordered you some dessert for after your meal.

he also slipped you a business card and said, "if you need anything in this city, let me know." then smiled at you. the address on the card led to a mechanics shop and kevin told you he owned and "worked" here, but you never saw too many cars come through.

but any questions were met with smiles and promises. you felt a little safer in the city when you were kevin. you one time asked him, "it seems like everyone looks at you when we walk together. or maybe i'm just imagining things."

even though you became accustomed to the public transport of the city. kevin was more than happy to pick you up or drop you off even places like the grocery store. you didn't want to think about all the times he bought you groceries. one time he made you grab another pack of salmon and not to look at the cost. he told you that you can freeze it for a few months. your throat tightened when you saw the price at the check out. but kevin simply paid without a second glance.

maybe you were used to people in your country being paid pennies. you chalked everything up to better wages in denmark.

  “you don't have to pay for things, kevin! really, this job i do pays well enough.” you held onto the front of his zip-up jacket as he carried your groceries back to your apartment. you still didn't know what he saw in you. but, if you couldn't give him the money back, then you'd simply have to keep him smiling. not that it was hard, even your worst jokes made him laugh and wrap his arms around you.

kevin seemed weird, but you found it endearing. when he was all smiles with you, in front of the family he was serious. he could be cold, methodic, dangerous. the light that he brought into your world were the same as the shadows he put into the underbelly of the city. people looked when you went down the street, because it wasn't very often to see him out on the streets. especially with someone so…. cute. 

but, there was something that lingered inside of the danish man you met. kevin saw it with his own two eyes when he entered the bar to meet with you one night. he saw a man at your table trying to chat you up. even with your back turned to kevin, he knew you were uncomfortable. nobody liked unwanted sexual advances.

but you weren't budging giving this man an inch, instead waving him off and eventually he took the cue to leave. but not before he touched you at the small of your back which made you lean away from him in disgust.

kevin saw your mouth move and then take a sip of your drink. at least kevin knew that you could stand up for yourself a little bit. at least enough to get this creep to go away.

eventually he did and when he walked away, kevin followed. no one was touching his girl. you were your own woman of course, you did as you pleased with kevin's support. but, most of the city should've know by now. you were under magnussen protection.

you were too occupied with your drink when the man left for you to notice that kevin had saw the entire thing. and instead of meeting you at your table, he followed the man in the washroom.

kevin wasn't the mechanic he told you he was. the tattoos weren't just from the lifestyle of fixing cars. they all meant something, his past, present and future. his family. his life. the head of an important family in the country. he rolled up his sleeves and the man who was flirting with you noticed him.

"almost done, man." he said as he turned off the tap and shook his hands to dry them. kevin crossed the small bathroom and instantly his fist was in the other man's face. causing him to sprawl out on the tiled floor of the bathroom.

kevin got on one knee down to the other man's level. he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and said, "don't, don't, don't yell." he pulled the bloodied man a little closer, his nose obviously broken, "you're going to leave this place. and you're not going to come back. you do not touch a woman without her permission."

"but i-"

"shh, shh, shh. i saw what you clipped to the back of her pants. a tracker? gps? going to follow her home? kidnap her? sell her? answer me." his voice was firm.

the man looked shaken and bleeding, he was trembling like a leaf at the end of fall. kevin was dangerously close, but didn't want to get blood all over himself. he didn't want you to worry.

"keep yourself out of here. if you don't. not even your dental records will be able to identify you. and if you want a date so badly, stop being a fucking creep." then dropped the man and got up.

the man nodded before he propped himself up against the bottom of the sink. he wiped his bleeding nose and before he could get a word in, kevin was gone.

"min elskede!" kevin's words could be heard and made you look over. you perked up a little bit as your boyfriend sat across from you. you were all smiles now in his presence.

"what happened to your hand?" you asked as you carefully took his hand in yours. you examined the red across his knuckle.

kevin rubbed the top of your head with his other hand, "oh, nothing. i wasn't looking at got it right at the corner of a door. you can kiss it if you want?"

you giggled a little then brought his knuckle to your lips, "what would you do without me, kevin?"

"oh, i don't know. i'd be lost." he smiled back at you.

-

back at your apartment, you were trying to get your socks off. they had little flowers printed on them and were a lovely pair. but it was hard with kevin's lips on your skin.

you squirmed a little and broke the kiss, "please, honey. let me get my clothes off." then burst into giggles when his lips got onto your neck. you ran your fingers through his hair and laughed.

"i can't help it, you're so beautiful." he admitted before he managed to pry himself away from you to let you get undressed. as he undid his button up shirt, he watched you struggle to get out of your jeans and chuckled softly to himself. beautiful little thing you were.

"oh shush." you said as you slipped off your panties, feeling kevin's eyes on you, "i'm alright looking. nothing to write home about."

he took you and pulled him to your chest. he kept those strong arms around you, as if he didn't punch a guy in the face earlier that evening. but, that was simply a part of his life. he had a punch that could kill, but with you. he was so sweet.

eventually you wiggled out of his grasp and got yourself in a further state of undress. soon you naked body was exposed to him and you could feel his hungry gaze on you.

you said as you looked at him, "i'm not a piece of meat, honey."

he reached for you and pulled your naked body next to his. he kissed at your face with such love and said, "of course you're not. you're too important to be meat." then trailed kisses across your body.

you laughed, "oh, c'mon!" you squirmed a little bit and arched your back. your nails rubbed against his scalp. his hips shifted a little bit and his cock rubbed against your thigh.

he knew that if anyone in the family saw him in that moment, they'd think he was a totally different man. the mean boss of the family was reduced to getting head scratches while he worshiped your breasts with his lips.

he said sweet things against you, watching your squirm when his tongue touched your left nipple. he watched your reaction for a moment before he closed his eyes and started to really suck on it. leaving wet trails behind.

his large hands kneaded your breasts and he felt his back arch against you. you felt hot all over and you moaned a little louder. two lovers naked in bed together.

you ran your hands up and down his shoulders, you knew both arms were heavily tattooed. you moaned against his lips before he pulled away and moved away from you. he got you onto your elbows and knees with your ass in the air.

he groped your ass cheek a little bit as he stroked his cock a little bit before he got closer to you once more and rubbed his hard cock up against your slick pussy. he listened to your sweet noises which only excited him more when he slipped his cock in. the angle let him get quite deep inside of you.

"kev!" your back arched a little, "oh. wow! every time." you hit your fist against the bed for a moment. your back arched a little more and you held onto the covers under you.

kevin licked his lips as he kept both hands on you. he loved the feeling of your cunt around his cock. it was his little slice of heaven. all the money from being in the family was something, but to have your sweetness around him made everything feel so much better.

"you're so pretty." he said softly, "you are the most gorgeous thing i had ever laid eyes on. i think about you all day, how much i love you and care for you." he pressed his chest agaisnt your back, then kissed at the back of your shoulders as he rutted against you.

he could feel the pound of his heart as he continued to move against you. his breathing was heavy against your skin as you buried your face into the soft pillows. the pillows he bought for you because you talked so much about how they were just so soft. and you hated to admit that since sleeping with them, your sleeps have improved.

he watched you move a little bit and whine into the covers. you sounded so pretty as he rutted against you. he kissed your shoulders once more.

"please, kev. honey!" you whined.

"you're so beautiful, my love."

his movements continued and the heat in the room grew, especially between the two of you. you could feel the sweat of his chest on your back as he wrapped his arms around you. he kept you close to him as he picked up the pace.

he pushed your further into the bed and worked at your hips. his cock slipped in and out of you perfectly. you were a dream around his cock. the creaking of the bed under you as the two of you made love under the low light of your bedroom.

it was comfortable, it wasn't painful in every way. and it was so good to feel your lover so closely. you panted heavily into the pillows and clutched it tightly. your noises were muffled as he moved. he pressed further into you and knew he wasn't going to last long.

a man capable of such violence was so docile around you. he wanted you so badly. he needed you more than he needed almost anything. his heart sang for you, and when he was away he tried to get home to you as soon as possible.

the dangerous life was common for him, but he didn't want to scare you off. if you knew the truth, would you hate him? would you run away or to the police? would you leave kevin?

he loved you so much, the idea of losing you made him almost scared. he pressed into you as much as he could and fucked you with heavy thrusts. he heard you pant heavily into the covers as he felt the pleasure in his brain.

you whined more as you felt orgasm hit you like a train. you said to your lover, "please, kevin. i love you."

he kissed your cheek and said, "good. because i love you too." then gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with one final movement of his hips. he came with a groan before he slowed to a stop. he rested his face against your shoulder and just let himself feel you for a moment.

"i love you so much." you groaned.

kevin slipped out of you and laid out beside you. you laid next to him and let him wrap himself up around you. like a protective blanket. he pressed soft kisses against you and melted against your heated skin.

he said with his voice close to your ear, "i promise to protect you forever." then kissed the shell of your ear, "all of my days and all of my nights."

you giggled and turned in his arms, "sounds like you're trying to propose to me." your cheeks warmed at the thought.

he smiled down at you, "maybe, but i'll need a ring first." maybe he'll slowly let you into his world. to be closer to him than ever. he wanted you for a lifetime, to love you was an honour as he kept you in his arms while you both calmed down from your climaxes, "it's a secret for now." he said, "have to give you a little surprise."

you buried your face in his chest and giggled, "oh my god, kevin!" you squirmed a little bit on the bed, "you don't need to propose! really! i'm fine being your girlfriend." the idea of marriage made your cheeks hot!

he held your back and smiled into your hair, "even if it is just a ring, you deserve something nice. and if it is pretty enough then no idiot men at the bar will try to make you uncomfortable." he thought about the tracker he took off of you. being married to you was the end goal, but to protect you was a constant in his mind.

he kissed you, tomorrow he'll go ring shopping before his meetings. it'll be a hard choice to pick the perfect ring, but only the best for you. <3

[odoraful]

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

mini durin has been settling well in his new home in teyvat, but his strange disappearance one day sparks anxiety for you and wanderer

content: wanderer x gn!reader; established relationship; use of 'kuni' as wanderer's nickname; set approx. a month after the events of summertime scales and tales; mini durin appreciation !!; mild angst surrounding loss but ultimately comfort; somewhat an exploration of wanderer's emotions; hopefully not too ooc wanderer 🥺; 3.1k words

a/n: if i had a dollar for every time i wrote about waking up in the morning beside wanderer who wanted to just stay in bed with you, i'd have two dollars which isn't a lot, but it's weird it happened twice HAHA this fic has taken on a few different forms before coming to this final piece, so i hope it's an enjoyable read! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Wanderer brought home a miniature dragon, you initially thought he had got roped into taking care of someone else’s companion. At your first introduction, it had zipped around the room, little wings flapping intensely, as Wanderer tried to scold it to settle down to not frighten you. Its excitable, curious energy compared to his perpetual indifference was a sight to behold. To your surprise, it was in fact a friend he had met on his surreal adventure in a storybook land. You could hardly believe it when Wanderer retold the details of his journey to you, but the proof was in the adorable little dragon sitting on the sofa between you.

Mini Durin, as he was named, quickly became settled into you and Wanderer’s home. You both had begun to include him in your routines, much to Wanderer's persistent denial at wanting to get closer to him as friends. One of Mini Durin’s favourite parts of the day was the mornings when he could wake you two up. He’d sit on your chest and nuzzle against your cheeks or eagerly pull away at the blankets with his mouth, leaving a less than pleased Wanderer each time. However, today you woke up without hearing the bubbly sound of his giggles and greetings.

Your eyes opened blearily. Strange… he’s not here, was all your unfocused mind could think.

“Kuni,” you whispered with a slight rasp, voice still finding itself in the morning.

Wanderer remained perfectly still. He slept on his side facing you, and always had his arm draped around your body. Shoulders, back, waist, anything that connected you to him. Whilst breathing wasn’t necessary for him, feeling the rhythm of your inhales and exhales helped lull him into slumber.

“Come on,” you cooed, “we can’t stay in bed for the whole day.”

You were met only by the room’s silence, and the involuntary twitch of Wanderer’s eyelid.

Wanting to get up, you carefully lifted his hand that laid across your waist. Your fingers grazed his own, and, ever so slowly, you tried to move it closer to his body.  Suddenly, his fingers interlocked with yours. Your eyes widened with surprise as he shuffled closer, filling in the space between you.

“So, you were awake!”

Wanderer’s eyes fluttered open, amusement swirling in his indigo gaze.

“You’re too lazy, you know that?” you said with a teasing lilt.

He sighed in response, pulling your hand closer to his chest. The warmth of your body radiated across his naturally cool skin.

“And you’re too talkative,” he drawled. “There are worse things in life than sleeping in.”

You couldn’t fault him there, but productivity would be thrown out the window if you both stayed like this.

“Mini Durin didn’t wake us up today,” you mentioned.

Wanderer shrugged, rolling onto his back.

“Maybe he’s finally learned some etiquette about interrupting other people’s sleep.”

He closed his eyes again, anticipating that you would do the same. Though, he should have known better that you wouldn’t bend to his will so easily. As his guard lowered, you wiggled out his grasp. As much as Wanderer tried to stop you by wrapping his hands around your waist, you were too quick. Now that you were out of bed, there was no point in him staying here as well. He groaned in defeat. Shortly after, a drowsy Wanderer followed you out.

“Durin, good morning!” you called out.

Morning light filtered in as you pulled the curtains open, tying them aside. You scanned the room, but still no sign of him.

“It’s time to eat,” Wanderer called as well. “Durin?” 

He disappeared into an adjoining room in search of his purple-winged friend.

At this point, Mini Durin would already be fluttering about helping you open windows or perching on the counter as he brewed tea. Wanderer frowned.

“Where’s Mini Durin?” he asked.

You furrowed your brows. “Have you checked the laundry basket? He might be hiding in there again.”

“Of course I checked,” he replied.

“Well, what about the closet–”

“Where we store our blankets and extra pillows in? I already did that too,” he tried to keep the snap in his voice at bay, running a hand through his hair.

It was incredibly rare to see Wanderer uneasy, which made the twinge of anxiety you heard as he spoke even more noticeable.

Though Mini Durin was fond of exploration, it was uncharacteristic of him to disappear without mentioning, even more so in the early mornings. He had to be here somewhere. Your shared home was small, so there were not many spaces where the dragon could be hidden.

You strode to the study room, the last area neither of you had searched. The window above the desk had been opened, the light curtain material swaying lazily with the breeze.

“Kuni, I think he might have flown out through here,” you said, tiptoeing to push the curtain aside.

As you peered out, you hoped he would be there, perhaps simply getting some fresh air. However, only the occasional person would walk by, either on their morning stroll or carrying bags from their market visit. Mini Durin was still nowhere to be found.

Wanderer scowled, approaching your side near the window. “He should know better than to just leave like that.”

“He couldn’t have gone too far,” you reassured, laying your feet back on the floor, “I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

“Alright?”  

You turned to your partner, startled by the sudden seething of his voice. Wanderer’s face was contorted in frustration, though he couldn’t meet your gaze.

“He barely knows Sumeru City,” he spat. “How can you say he’ll be alright?”

Mini Durin had accompanied the two of you outside, but only in covert ways. You couldn’t deny his point that the roads of the city were yet to be familiar to him.  

Wanderer was simmering with anger, a state he hardly wanted to show in front of you. He had become more accepting of other emotions—embarrassment when you caught him staring at you on a golden afternoon, amusement at your attempts to care for house plants that oftentimes wilted, even adoration when you brought cups of tea to help him through troublesome Akademiya assignments—though, as much as he wanted to diminish it, anger was the easiest to provoke. Especially when it could mask other, more fragile feelings. Sadness and fear, namely, being the culprits.

Though he had not outwardly admitted it since his time in Simulanka, Mini Durin had become a close friend. He saw too much of himself in the little dragon to not at least hold some fondness. Few could occupy the soft spot of the person with no heart, and yet Mini Durin had cosied his way in, much like you had. It was what made the thought of losing him even more painful.

You reached your hand out to steady him, placing it on his shoulder.

“Kuni, please–”

“We don’t even know what time he left!” he continued, seeming to not hear you speak. He paced to the middle of the room, shrugging off your hand. “He could have flown out hours before we woke up.”

Too many thoughts raced through his mind. He hated this. Hated the flurry of emotions he got swept in, like a single pilot navigating through an endless storm.

“And who knows what kind of crazy people might be out there thinking he’s some kind of bounty.”

His throat felt tight as the words clawed up their way up. Some miserable part of him expected you to be afraid of him. That this side of him, prone to temperamental outbursts, would be more than you could handle.

“I–” he began before groaning. Exasperated by his own anger, he ruffled his hair with his hand, “–didn’t mean to… yell like that to you...”

He needed to think. Where would Mini Durin try to go first? Surely the Akademiya. Wanderer had taken him there many times, hidden away in his bags or garments. Mini Durin would probably want to satisfy his curiosity by exploring there himself. The Akademiya didn’t have too many floors, but it was an expansive building. If he left now, then–

Wanderer was jolted from his spiral of thoughts as he felt two hands press against the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks slightly.

“What are you doing!?” he spluttered, holding onto your wrists in shock.

“I’m calming you down,” you said, firmly.  

He was forced to look at you, confronted by the concern in your eyes.

Incredibly, the combination of your touch and voice did slow his racing mind. It was a break in the storm. That sliver of light that guided him towards safer skies.

“I am calm,” he asserted.

You gave him a skeptical look, brows raised. Wanderer clicked his tongue, knowing that his own statement was far from the truth.

You sighed.

Wanderer never spoke of his past, preferring it to stay left behind rather than exist in the present. Even so, you could make your own deductions. You sensed that sudden disappearances of those he cared about may be all too familiar to him. Your heart ached at the very thought.

“It’s alright to be frightened,” you said, gently. “It just shows how much Mini Durin means to you.”

“Frightened? I’m not…” his denial dried up in his throat, as too did his temper.

“But Mini Durin isn’t reckless. A little naïve, sure, but he would never put himself in danger like that,” you reasoned.

Tension released from his body at your consolations. Archons, he cursed. He was not one to be easily placated, but your voice and words managed to soothe him so quickly. You were a complement to his vitriol—understanding the world’s harshness yet maintaining a forgiveness he had yet to figure out.

He guided your hands down from his face, holding them loosely in his lap.

“You’re incomprehensible,” he muttered under his breath.  

With a shallow tease like that, you knew his spirits had somewhat returned to him.  

“We’ll find him together, okay?” you lightly rubbed his hand with your thumb. “No matter what.”

He nodded, his thoughts clearing with each gently circle you placed on his skin. “We should look around the street first and then head to the Akademiya. I wouldn’t put it pass him to want to explore that building on his own.”

Both in agreement, you two quickly changed out of your night clothes and headed out of your home. Walking down the street together, you knocked on the doors of your neighbours and approached those who were passing by, asking if they had seen a small purple dragon. However, you received no such clue as to his whereabouts. You prickled with anxiety with each shrug of shoulders and shake of people’s head. Maybe Mini Durin had flown out for longer than you anticipated.  

You reached the last home on the street, knowing the owner to be a kind old woman named Noor who lived by herself. Wanderer tapped on the door.

A voice called out, though it did not sound like an elderly woman at all.

“Coming!”

The door swung open. Standing at the threshold before you were two familiar figures.  

“Mini Durin!” you cried out with a gasp.

Seeing him at his neighbour’s home and not somewhere more dire filled Wanderer with inexplicable amounts of relief. His arms moved before he could even think. He yanked the little dragon into his arms and pressed him against his chest. Tucking his chin over his horned head, Wanderer let out exclaimed a sound of something between relief and annoyance. You rushed to wrap your arms around him as well, joining in on this tight hug.

“Oh! H-hello you two!” was all Mini Durin could reply, voice muffled by Wanderer’s garments.

The casualness of his tone certainly contrasted against yours and Wanderer’s panic over his disappearance. He was confused by the overwhelming concern you both displayed, and, particularly, the sudden physical affection by his friends.

Despite the gentleness in the way he held Mini Durin, Wanderer’s voice was still harsh as he scolded, “What are you doing here!?”

The purple dragon pushed his head out from Wanderer’s grasp, needing to get more air to speak.

“Well, I was just stretching my wings out in the morning, when I heard a THUD outside,” he replied, adding an extra emphasis on the sound effect. “I looked out the window and saw granny struggling with her grocery bags! I couldn’t just leave her, so I went out to help.”

You looked over at Noor standing at the door, walking stick in hand and a warm smile on her face.

“The young Wanderer and Y/N!” she crooned, “What a pleasure it is to see you.”

“Good morning, Noor,” you greeted with a fluster. “Sorry for all the commotion, we’re just happy to see our friend.”

Noor gazed fondly at the trio.

“Ah, is this little one with you two? “I should’ve known someone as kind as him would be acquainted with you.”

You moved to Noor’s side, supporting her arm as she shuffled towards Wanderer, Mini Durin still in his arms.

“I thought this small one wouldn’t be able to manage, but he swooped in and carried some of my bags in his mouth and flew all the way down this street!” she recounted with a hearty laugh.

As much as Wanderer didn’t want to react, the corners of his mouth twitched. Your expression was much less hidden as you burst into a grin. A tiny dragon carrying bags triple his size was certainly a comical image.

Noor leaned in closer to Mini Durin, patting him on the head. “Thank you, little purple one. It would have taken me double the time to get home without your assistance.”

Mini Durin lifted his chin proudly. “No problem, granny! I’m strong and fast enough to carry anything.”

Wanderer rolled his eyes and scoffed at that bold claim. He turned his attention to Noor, bowing his head.

“Thank you for looking after him,” Wanderer said.

There was sincerity in his voice that she didn’t think he was capable of. She nodded thoughtfully. It took little to judge that the prickly, young scholar had made a true friend.

“It was my pleasure,” she chuckled. “I’ll let you three go, but you’re always welcome to visit my home whenever you’d like.”

Mini Durin broke free from Wanderer’s arms, nuzzling Noor on the cheek which she happily received. The three of you waved goodbye, waiting until Noor shut her door before walking away.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The morning sun had risen past the green tiled roofs of the houses lining the street, basking everything in a yellow glow. Mini Durin flew gently next to Wanderer, still quite happy about his earlier act of heroism.

Walking side-by-side, Wanderer wordlessly drifted closer to you. Your hands grazed each other, and you noticed his skin was warmer now to the touch. You turned towards him curiously. For a split second, his eyes flicked to the side towards you, before returning to gaze straight ahead of him. It would easily have been interpreted as a reflexive movement if not for the pink that bloomed across his porcelain skin. You bit back a smile, understanding your partner’s subtle shows of gratitude.

Wanderer knew if he properly turned to you, he’d see that silly, doting look on your face and he did not want to lose his composure this early in the day. Instead, he looked over at Mini Durin.

“You left the house without anywarning to follow someone you barely know?” he huffed. “You’re too careless for someone whose been here for less than a month.”

“That’s Kuni-speak for: I was really worried about you,” you mock whispered.

Wanderer shot a glare at you for admitting that, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Mini Durin, prepared to defend himself for helping a citizen in need, brightened. His round, innocent eyes seemed to sparkle in the morning light.

“You were worried about me?” he asked, zipping in front of you, “Truly?”

He hovered in front of you two, wings flapping in excitement, stopping both of you in your tracks.

“Of course we were!” you exclaimed. “You’re our friend. We wanted to make sure nothing bad had happened.”

Mini Durin’s little heart soared hearing you say that word: friend. He looked expectantly at Wanderer.

Wanderer stared at the anticipation in the purple dragon’s expression. He realized at that moment that there was a trend of surrounding himself with somewhat bright-eyed individuals.

“Yeah, yeah, I was worried too…” he mumbled, darting his eyes away. In a louder voice he moved the topic along with a wave of his hand, “Now, let’s all go home so I can get on with my morning.”

He walked briskly down the street, ahead of you and Mini Durin.

You and Mini Durin looked at each other for a beat before bursting into giggles. Too focused on each other’s amusement, you didn’t see Wanderer turn around to observe the two of you.

He thought it would take many, many lifetimes for him to feel this way. The world seemed too cruel to give out such warmth, and yet, there were the two of before him, a bubbly mess in the middle of the street. Contrary to what many would believe, he found himself not hating this feeling. If he remembered correctly, content was what it was named.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The next morning, just like he had always done before, Mini Durin creaked open the door to your bedroom and flew inside. Landing on the blankets, he saw the two of you in a tangled mess. Notably, Wanderer locking you in his arms.

“Good morning!” he chirped, stretching out his wings. “Come on, it’s time to get ready for the day!”

You both shifted in your sleep, slowly coming into consciousness at his wake-up call. Unexpectedly, Wanderer lifted a tired hand at Mini Durin, gesturing him to come closer.

Mini Durin cocked his head to the side in confusion. Typically, his good friend would groan and complain before begrudgingly getting out of bed. He flew closer.

“Huh? Is there something–”

With a loud exclamation, Mini Durin was swept by Wanderer’s grasp. Before he knew it, he was snuggled underneath the blankets between you and Wanderer.

“Hey! You tricked me!” he said, trying to keep his tone hushed being so close to each of your ears.

He was met only by a cheeky smile from Wanderer and a quiet laugh from you. Wanderer patted Mini Durin’s head before speaking softly,

“It’s good to see you here.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[bigfan-fanfic]

A Real Puzzler (Male!Reader x Leon Kennedy)

@alexanderstarhero Request for Leon taking care of random citizen who is great at puzzle.

"I was supposed to accept an award today."

Leon laughs, and you laugh with him, the sound tinged with just a hint of hysteria.

"Oh yeah? What was the award for?"

You can't help but giggle. "Raccoon City Puzzle Champion."

You both roar with laughter.

"Guess what?" Leon smirks.

"What?"

"Today's my first day on the job with RCPD!"

After a really bad rainy day spent with a cute police officer - which you can't even really appreciate due to the weird monsters and zombies all around here - you two found a moment to rest in a safe room and simply breathed and talked, leading to you laughing about the way today should have been wildly mundane.

With him shooting and you using your experience to handle the increasingly obtuse puzzles, the two of you make a pretty great team.

You finally recover enough to breathe and lean against him.

Automatically, he puts an arm around you.

"I never got the chance to thank you for... you know. Saving my life."

He looks at you. "You don't have to thank me for that."

"But-"

"You've gotten us out of just as many scrapes."

"What, with those riddles?"

"Look, with you focused on that, it lets me be more aware of enemies. We're the perfect team, you and me."

"Still, I kinda think you'd be able to do all this without me, and the reverse isn't true."

Leon raises an eyebrow. "Well, having two people do this together just makes it all go faster. And something tells me if we can get to the bottom of this as quickly as we can, we might save a lot of lives."

You smile at him. "I'm okay with that."

He laughs. "Just okay? Maybe I could sweeten the pot?"

"What?"

"We get out of here before sunrise, I take you out on a date."

You blink several times, and slowly smile. "What about if after?"

"Then you take me out."

"Deal."

He squeezes you against his side. "That huge guy sucks. I think he'd have pummeled my ass into the ground if you weren't so quick on the puzzle."

"Yeah. He SUCKS."

Boom.

"Oh, shit, do you think he heard us?"

"Let's get out of here..."

Much later...

"What is with this town and puzzles?"

"I... actually don't have an answer for that." you mumble, as you hold a strangely shaped statuette in front of a spotlight in order to match an odd-shaped indentation in the landscape painting ahead.

"You haven't ever found it weird?"

The whole wall slides aside to reveal a secret passage downward. "What do you mean?"

"That this place is just loaded with weird secret passages and environmental puzzles?"

"I guess I've never thought about it. It's just... we like our puzzles. I was gonna get to have my picture in City Hall with Mr. Raccoon!"

Leon freezes in the middle of the staircase. "Mr. Raccoon?"

You sigh, face heating up as you realize you're going to have to explain your city's odd mascot that its citizens are so appreciative of.

Well, at least it's better than thinking about the current situation.

Although a date with your dashing companion is ever tempting to be distracted by...

[songbirdseung]

payphone / sim jaeyun

thank you for 1k! where molding back a broken heart starts with you standing at a phonebooth in a foreign country trying to figure out what the hell to do and thinking where it went wrong. pairing stranger!jake x reader genre angst at first but turns into fluff. strangers to friend, possibly lovers

usually you'd feel very claustrophobic being in a tight enclosed space and feel anxious when people look at you regardless of expression but right now you had a different task that was highly more important that your own feelings right now.

you still had two whole months being in this country whose language you don't speak, with people you don't know nor trust but you were desperate to leave behind a memory, a person. because quite frankly being in his own home country didn't help you with trying to move on due to the fact that whenever and wherever you looked, something reminded you of him and that stupid smile you love so much.

it's weird, really. why are you in a phone booth when you can easily use your phone and do much more with it than a telephone attached to a wire in a box? easy answer: your phone died.

so, here you were. in this clear glassed box surrounded by people that are giving you looks as they pass by. since your tear-stained face with never ending tears flow out along with frantic and desperate movement would cause anyone to look.

some people tried to help but gave up when they realized you didn't speak their language but gave you enough reassurance and comfort your ex could ever give.

"damn it!" you shove back the phone into its switch hook as the automated voice came through for the nth time. sighing at the realization you no longer have any loose change to use.

a stupid idea but the only idea you had left was to start softly banging your head on the glass and calling yourself stupid for even making the decision to surprise your long-distance boyfriend.

"you okay in there?" a warm soft voice with a charming aussie accent along with a knock on the glass gets your attention. turning your head to be met with worried brown eyes looking at you. clearing your throat as you wipe your tears away, "uhm..you want an honest answer?"

"that's why i asked" okay, maybe that small chuckle was too much for your just broken heart could take.

"then…no"

"can i open the door or could you get out so i could help you in any way?"

never in a million years would you blindly follow nor interact with a stranger, let alone a stranger that was a guy… but that;-'s just you being anxious and suspicious. although, for some reason, this stranger felt like a warm hug or maybe it's just your emotions going haywire and your actually out of it. either way, you made the decision to step out of the booth and sit in a cafe with this stranger.

hands down, the best decision you made this whole month because know you understand why people say a stranger can understand you way better than anyone else in your life. this man who you are sitting across from right now, he felt like a warm room after being in the cold for hours on end. he just sat there, listened to you and sometimes even offering sweet and comforting words that would reassure you that maybe not everyone and everything is horrible.

if your ex barely gave you the bare minimum, this guy was giving you beyond that. no, you weren't exactly falling for this guy just like that. you've been through too much to do that to yourself. it was just a friendly acknowledgement that this person is a gem and that you can't let it go. there was no need to polish this one, he was already too perfect.

you sat at that cafe for hours, it started off with you crying to a whole stranger to leaving the cafe with a new friend, sim jaeyun… maybe there is a reason to stay in Seoul for the two months you had left.

-

"you're telling me your douchebag of an ex tried to get back together you with?" jake gives you a look that says "you better not have said yes" which makes you laugh and nudge him

"don't look at me like that"

"just tell me you didn't get back with him, woman!" he nudges you back and steals your cup of m&m's "these are mine now, by the way" while popping one in his mouth as he waits for your answer, eyebrow raised with an attitude and all.

"of course I didn't, doofus" trying to snatch back your beloved snack but to no success.

banter and bickering with jake was now your favorite thing. it's been two days since he found you crying in a phone booth, being a lovely, kind and friendly person but now he's teasing you and play fighting with you as if you two have known each other you whole lives.

"no offense but did you really think your long-distance relationship with him would work despite his track record?" he sits down, still holding your chocolate hostage.

"i was young!" trying to defend yourself, rolling your eyes at him as you at down next to him on the picnic blanket.

"it was only a year ago" okay, who is this diva? because he's giving you a deadpan "are you for real?" look. "just admit you're stupid, yn" shaking his head as he continues to eat the candy, looking at the ducks in the river in front of them.

"i'm not stup-"

"you think ducks can eat chocolate?" you see him holding one piece of the m&m's, rolling it with his pointer and thumb. "jake, you'll kill it!" he chuckles and eat the candy "it was just a question"

it makes you scoff and chuckle at him "look who's stupid now?" soon after that question, you feel your upper body meeting the grass next to you along with jake's defensive tone.

you never had a friendship like this. all your girl friends were the loving, caring, soft type of friends who love to sugar coat and beat around the bush when it comes to comforting you, you know the usual. they usually are gentle with you and are soft spoken but with jake? nope. say bye bye to that because the man will literally tell you straight up that you were doing something dumb. but again, for some odd reason, he was more real and comforting than anyone you've known. he can be a pain in the ass and hella competitive when you two play games but overall, he's such a fun guy to be around.

-

"have you dated before, jake?" you watch him put down his ramen and look up at you. there was something in his eyes that held something you couldn't really figure out. maybe a sense of longing?

"no- well, i mean- i've been a few dates set up by my friends in australia but I never actually had a girlfriend, why do you ask?" now paying full attention to you, waiting for where this conversation leads to

"i was just curious because i just can't believe a guy like you doesn't have a girl" you hear him sigh and see him shrug

"it was never really a priority"

"that's it? what about the girls you dated?"

"i don't like blind dates, i prefer to find "the one" naturally, you know?" you nod, telling him you understood and got him mindset on dating and relationships.

the conversation on his love life continued until he whined and whined, asking you to stop and let him finish his lunch. jake wasn't entirely secretive with you, he's actually been very welcoming and open to letting you know him and bringing you into his life. although, like any other person, there were things he like to keep to himself.

-

the next two months were a whirlwind of shared experiences and growing affection. you and jake were practically inseparable, exploring seoul's vibrant streets, from bustling markets to serene temples.

one day, you embarked on a culinary adventure, attempting to make kimchi. what started as a fun activity quickly turned into a chaotic mess. red pepper flakes flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a colorful battlefield. jake, ever the comedian, couldn't resist capturing the moment, teasing you about your culinary skills.

"you call that kimchi? it looks more like a crime scene!" he joked, doubling over with laughter. you playfully swatted him, but couldn't help but join in the fun.

another memorable moment was a karaoke night. initially hesitant, you let jake's encouragement push you out of your comfort zone. as you belted out your favorite tunes, your shyness melted away. you even attempted a duet with jake, a hilarious performance that had the entire karaoke bar roaring with laughter.

late nights often found you on a rooftop, stargazing and sharing your hopes, dreams, and fears. hours would pass as you connected on a deeper level, the city lights twinkling in the background. it was during these quiet moments that you realized how much you valued jake's friendship, his honesty, and his unwavering support.

the quiet hum of the city faded into the background as you and jake settled into a cozy evening. a bowl of popcorn, a soft blanket, and a heartwarming movie filled the screen. the familiar comfort of his presence washed over you as you leaned into his side.

a shared laugh, a knowing glance, a gentle touch—these were the moments that painted your time together in vibrant hues. the simplicity of it all was breathtaking. no grand gestures, no dramatic declarations, just the quiet understanding that grew between you.

as the credits rolled, a comfortable silence enveloped the room. you turned to face jake, his eyes soft and contemplative. a warmth spread through you, a realization dawning upon you. the bond you shared was something truly special, a friendship that had blossomed into something more.

the days that followed were a whirlwind of shared experiences, laughter, and quiet moments. you explored hidden alleys, savored delectable street food, and lost yourselves in the vibrant tapestry of seoul. each day was a new adventure, a fresh memory etched into your hearts.

as your departure date drew near, a bittersweet feeling settled over you. the thought of leaving seoul and saying goodbye to jake filled you with a sense of longing. on your last night, you wandered along the han river, the city lights reflecting on the calm waters.

"i'm going to miss you," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper.

jake turned to face you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "i'll miss you too. but hey, this isn't goodbye, just see you later."

[yagirlwrites]

Angels & Demons | (Sub!Rafe)

Pairing: sub!Rafe Cameron x domme!Reader

Synopsis: Rafe asks reader to a Halloween bash, proposing they wear matching costumes. They have a conversation on where they stand. Lots of fun at the biggest party of the year.

Warnings: fluff, clingy!rafe, pouty!rafe, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 8.4k (I'm so so sorry I need psychiatric help)

A/N: Hi y'all! It's finally here, ignore the fact that its 10 days late - Happy Halloween🤣 This is really long and fluffy, some steamy scenes as well because it wouldn't be me without them 😘 The smut for the day after the party will be posted soon! Had to separate it because it would have been too damn long to read and y'all deserved to have this as soon as possible. Hope it's not too long anyway 😭 I am sorry for the delay but I hope you enjoy it! As always lmk what you think!

Series Masterlist

My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs, comments, feedback are always welcome and appreciated❤️

Happy reading 🥰

Angels & Demons

"I need you to sit still, baby." His heart soared, as it always did, when she called him that. He was currently sitting at her vanity while she patiently applied glitter to his face.

He felt restless, she was so close and she smelled so nice and she was touching him so gently. Looking at her, so beautiful, right in front of him was driving him insane. It was his own fault for being in this situation, getting ready for a party he suggested they attend. So he really had no right to be acting bratty. He just really wanted to kiss her and she was keeping him hostage in the small chair. The generous view of her cleavage bent over like this, courtesy of her costume, might also have something to do with his fading sanity.

It was a week ago when he suggested they go to the Halloween bash together. It was the biggest party of the year so far, spanning the entire greek street. It was always wild and intense, but he wasn't interested in that this year. He just wanted to spend time with her and his friends, and have a good time. This would technically be their coming out party and he was ecstatic when she said yes to coming. Even more so when he suggested they match their costumes, trying to play it off as no big deal, but in actuality extremely aware of the implications.

"Like, a couple's costume?" It came out of the blue. They had been cuddled up on her couch when he brought up the topic the party and asked if she wanted to come with him. Then he started acting all shy and flustered broaching the topic of outfits.

"Yeah. I don't know if you maybe wanted to match. Might be cool, I don't know." He was blushing in that way that made her heart melt like a popsicle on a hot summer day. He didn't even give her a chance to respond as he continued.

"Unless you don't want to or think it would be weird, it's totally fine we don't have to. It was just a thought..." he trailed off, not meeting her eyes, flustered and insecure. Her heart ached.

"Hey..." her soft palm met his cheek and forced him to look back at her.

"Why would it be weird?" Her gaze was warm and he was blushing even harder now. His thoughts felt scrambled, all the practicing he had done in his head vanishing into thin air when he was so close to her.

"I don't know. Maybe you don't see us..." he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders, not able to finish his thought.

"As a couple?" She offered, trying to help but driving him further up the wall instead. He just shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on the coffee table, feeling weak. She pushed him further onto the couch, straddling his lap in order to force him to look at her. His heart felt like it might burst out of his chest.

She said nothing, simply waited for him to speak up. Needing him to talk to her, instead of shutting down. They'd talked about this habit of his, she promised she'd never judge him and he promised he'd try his best to be as open with her as he could. So he had no choice then, not when she was looking at him like that. Not after he made her a promise.

"We never talked about it. So you might not." His eyes were running wildly all over her face, trying to be respectful and not look away but not brave enough to see the possible rejection in her gaze.

"Do you want us to?" He sighed, the feeling of her playing with his hair making him lose the last bit of dignity he had. He was so desperate for her he couldn't cope.

"Maybe..." she shook her head then. She hated that word, wished he would stop using it and just say what he really wants. But she knew it was hard for him so she didn't push it.

"Do you want us to be a couple, Rafe?" His eyes finally met hers, hearing the vulnerability in her voice. When they did, he saw no judgement, no rejection, just kindness. And he didn't have it in him to pretend anymore.

"I do." The beat it took for her to react felt like an eternity, his breath stuck in his throat.

"Good." She smiled, caressing his face so gently he thought he'd cry. She kissed his red cheek and whispered a soft "me too."

His heart skipped at her words, a bright smile finally making it's way onto his face as he hugged her so close, leading them both to almost fall off the couch. The only thing that could be heard in her small appartment was the sound of their giggles as they processed their emotional conversation.

"Fuck, I'm so relieved." He kissed her neck where his head was burried while he held her as close as possible. Her hands running though his hair in that soothing manner she knew he loved. She laughed as he peppered kisses on her skin.

"What? Did you really think I'd say no?" She pulled him back enough to look at his beautiful face. He had a sheepish smile on and his eyes sparkled with joy.

"I don't know." He shrugged in a careless manner, even though they both knew it was a front.

"Oh so you think I just let any guy sleep over and cuddle with me on the couch?" She was giving him a faux offended look and he couldn't help but laugh.

"I don't know, you might..." he grinned and she rolled her eyes.

"Bro, be serious." She pushed off of him to pick up the blanket that had fallen to the floor during their tumble.

"Bro? You can't friendzone me now!" He whined as she stood up, folding the blanket and then throwing it right in his cheeky little face. He let out a surprised yelp and she giggled as he rushed after her on her way to the kitchen. He looked like a lost puppy, incapable of not being near her, it seemed.

"So what's this costume?" He was looking at her throat as she gulped down a glass of water, completely zoned out when she asked the question.

"Huh?" He snapped his eyes back to her face but it was too late, she'd already noticed him ogling her. His ears turned a shade pinker as he tried to play it off.

"The costume you want to wear, what is it?" He looked confused.

"I don't know." He shrugged causing her to raise her eyebrow.

"You don't have a costume in mind?" He shook his head, grinning as he stepped closer to her.

"Whatever you want." She had to refrain from laughing at how cute he was, with his floppy hair and his rumpled clothes and his childlike grin.

"So now I have to come up with a couple's costume even thought it was your idea?" She played annoyed but he could see the smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and connected their foreheads, the intimate banter reducing them both to mush on the inside.

"Yep. Just want everyone to know." He nuzzled his nose into her hair as her fingers ran gently over his back.

"Know what?" He pulled back to look at her then. A rare moment of bravery.

"That I'm yours." Her breath caught in her throat at the way he said it. So sure, so honest, so utterly unashamed. It made butterflies appear in her stomach and she wanted to curse at how much she loved hearing those words come out of his mouth.

"That you're mine?" She kissed his face gently and his smile could not be bigger.

"Mhm. All yours." she blushed from the raw honesty in his words and he noticed. But before he could call her out on it she kissed him, making him forget whatever thought he might have had of teasing her.

It was heaven, whenever their lips met. They felt like they became one and it was so insane to think about that they refused to, simply letting themselves get lost in the pleasure of being with each other.

And now here they were, in her bedroom, putting the finishing touches on the costumes. He admired how stunning she looked, so focused and unguarded. He swore he had never seen a person more beautiful in his life. He couldn't stop a smirk from making its way onto his face as he took in her outfit. The tight leather bustier made her boobs look insane, the short black skirt leaving just enough to the imagination, and the skull shaped lace of her thights hugged her thighs so well he wanted to bite into them.

"One last thing" she positioned the accessory on his head and smiled at the result.

"Perfect." He blushed at the compliment, turning around to face the mirror and finally see her hadiwork.

He looked flushed and soft, the sparkles on his face matching the ones on the halo atop of his head. He was dressed in all white, a button down over a white t-shirt, white pants she made him buy the other day, and white converse on his feet. The silver against the white made him look almost ethereal. He was a literal angel before her eyes and she could not be happier with how it all turned out.

She grabbed her own headpiece, a pair of black horns and completed their couples costume. An angel and a demon. Not the most unique of ideas, however the roles were usually reversed. He told her that when she came up with the concept and all she said was "You're my good boy now, right? You're gonna be my angel." After that he shut up and the flush didn't leave his cheeks for a long time.

He didn't know if she fully understood just how much she affected him when she said stuff like that. Messed with his mind, his heart, twisting him up inside until he feels like falling at her feet. Or maybe she knew exactly how bad he had it for her, and she enjoyed it.

She was taking her sweet time taking him in, critical eye paying attention to every detail waiting to find something she might have missed. Even though it wasn't her idea and she'd never done matching costumes with anyone before, she was feeling super excited at the prospect of the entire campus knowing he was hers. She wasn't a jealous person, but she knew there were girls vying for his attention and now he was making it clear he had no interest in anyone but her. It made her heart feel so full that she had to force herself to stay cool. He did that. He'd come and sweep the rug out from under her in the best ways. One minute she's chill and the next he hits her with this genuine unabashed affection and she's left confused as to how to cope. She wouldn't complain though, it was the best kind of surprise every time it happened.

To think not long ago she had thought he could never be with someone like her, that they weren't compatible. It was laughable now. Every move they made felt perfectly synced, like it was always meant to be the two of them together. And whenever her insecurities would try and weasel into her mind he'd smile at her in that way he did and she'd feel peace again. She knew he still had his demons but since they agreed to be open with each other he seemed more calm, less on edge, like that peace she felt was mirrored in him too. She couldn't quite believe how happy she was.

He was looking at her with those bedroom eyes again and she had to refrain from letting her mind run wild, as his no doubt was. They spent hours getting ready and they had a party to go to.

This would be the first time they arrived together at a party, and while she wasn't particularly bothered about what other people thought, she knew he cared and wanted to show the world they were together now. For real. She understood, they had spent so much time making up for all the months wasted, in their little bubble and while it was amazing and they wouldn't trade it for anything - they did need to step back into the real world. Meet each other's people, be part of each others lives in public too.

He was really excited at the prospect and it warmed her heart to see him so positively nervous about something. Something other than sex, that is. She needed to stop thinking about sex and focus. Party. They're going to a party. She grabbed her purse and took his hand leading them out the door and into the night.

................

Walking into his frat, hand in hand, it felt like the entire house was staring at them. In reality most people didn't pay them a second glance, but it felt like a momentous occasion to him. He had a big, proud smile on his face as he led her through the massive crowd to the kitchen where he knew his friends would most likely be congregated. As they walked in they were met with loud whoops sounding over the music.

"Mistery Girl! You made it!" It was Mac, Rafe's best friend. They'd met several times, and even though he now knew her name, he still clung to the nickname - to Rafe's great annoyance. As expected, Rafe rolled his eyes at his friend. She smiled and greeted his group, some of whom she'd briefly met before, some faces definitely unfamiliar leading Rafe to introduce her.

Rafe went to make her a drink, knowing she prefers a cocktail to a beer. He managed to locate some fruity syrup and decided to mix her a drink himself. He didn't trust any of the already made punches floating around. She deserved the best. Since best wasn't an option, at least better than the terribly tasting jungle juice Mac always made.

Aaron, one of his frat brothers, whom he didn't really care for, decided to stand too close to her for his liking. Rafe was looking at him while making sure not to spill any of the alcohol he was pouring. He didn't like him crowding her and he wanted to get back there to prevent any unfortunate scene that might unfold.

"So you're the devil, huh?" She gave the random man next to her an unimpressed look, taking a step to the side to create space between them. She didn't want to deal with annoying creeps, but she needed to keep her promise and not do anything to offend his friends.

"Just a lowly demon, I'm afraid." She replied to his question, trying to stay polite.

"Ah, I don't see nothing lowly about you, sweetheart." His gaze flashed to her cleavage and her blood started boiling when he leaned into her space again. He was clearly already drunk but her patience was wearing thin.

"Here you go, babe." His voice snapped her out of her reverie, bringing with him a calm she had missed in the past few minutes they were apart. She took the cup from him, relaxing into his chest as he made himself at home at her back, wrapping one arm around her. His eyes were shooting daggers at Aaron, and she had to refrain from smirking, finding his protectiveness endearing.

"This is pretty good, sweet boy." She looked up at him after tasting his conconction and he broke eye contact with Aaron to look back at her, a smile shining on his face at the compliment. A slight blush appeared on his cheeks at the pet name. He had yet to get used to how he felt every time she called him something so sweet and loving. This was the first time she had called him a nickname in public, not thinking anything of it until the pest next to them decided to speak up.

"N'aww ain't that just adorable?" The smile wiped off Rafe's face in record time as he shot daggers at Aaron for the interruption. Jade was getting more and more annoyed by this random guy and she knew Rafe was as well, so she wished to remove them both from his presence. Before she could though, he had to speak again.

"When did you become such a pussy, Cameron?" Rafe rolled his eyes, tired of his bullshit and ready to leave the kitchen but he felt her stiffen in his arms.

"You watch your mouth." Her voice was low and cold, but everyone in the kitchen could hear it nontheless.

"It's okay-" before he got a chance to reassure her that this dickhead's words meant nothing to him, he was interrupted.

"Woah there little lady. You're feisty. She speaks for you now, too? What happened to you, bro?" He was giggling to himself, but none of his other friends seemed amused. She was starting to realize no one liked him, but for the life of her couldn't understand why they tolerated such a piece of shit.

"Listen here, you little cockroach-" she took a step towards him but Rafe snapped into action, wrapping his arm tighter against her and pulling her backwards.

"Rafe..." her tone held a warning, but he didn't care. He wasn't about to let Aaron of all people, ruin their night before it even started.

"Baby, he's not worth it. Everyone knows he's just desperate for attention, since no one's giving him any." His first words whispered to her, but the latter said loud enough for everyone to hear. Aaron flushed red in anger and Mac saw it as his queue to jump in.

"Alright, we get it. You're jealous Rafe has a girl now. My condolences man but we gotta move on, yeah?" The crowd laughed at Mac's jokes making Aaron even more furious, but the friendly arm Mac slung around his shoulder and the beer he handed him managed to distract the drunken douche enough for Rafe to drag her out of the kitchen.

"You should've let me knock him out." Her teeth were clenched and he tried to prevent a smile from breaking out but she looked so adorable, all mad and protective, ready to fight for his honor. He chuckled at the thought and her eyes snapped to him, taking in his face, thinking he's laughing at her.

"Hey. I could take him!" She was offended.

"Oh trust me, I know. I remember just how lethal that right hook can be." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and she realized he was only teasing her.

"He deserved it." She spoke, no longer upset, feeling her anger leave her body as he swayed them both on the dance floor.

"I know." He was smirking, giving her that annoying yet adorable look, driving her crazy.

"Why do you let him talk to you like that?" He sighed, pulling her into his chest, laying his head on top of hers as they danced.

"I don't care enough about his opinion to let him ruin my night." She looked up at him then, realizing he wasn't being a pushover because of his friends, which she worried might have been the reason why he didn't fight back. He was just mature enough not to let some irrelevant twat get under his skin. She smiled at that, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

"That's very grown up of you." She teased and he laughed, glad she was back to normal.

"And you ready to fight him for a stupid comment, is definitely not." She rolled her eyes, a slight blush tinging her cheeks.

He was right, she had promised herself to stay cool but one mean comment aimed at him destroyed her composure. She felt such an intense need to protect him, it was quite confusing and scary. She would have laid that fucker out right there in the kitchen. How embarrassing.

"Hey, I'm not complaining. It was very hot, how protective you got." He was smirking again, the cocky little shit. She rolled her eyes again and pulled him into a kiss, just to shut him up and distract him from her somewhat childish behavior. He moaned into the kiss when her tongue entered his mouth and she smiled when she felt him shiver under her fingertips. He was so easy.

When she broke the kiss he was dazed, chasing her lips to prolong the moment but she simply gave him a sweet peck and pulled away. The pout on his face was adorable, resembling a little kid told he can't have his favorite candy for dinner. She admired the flush of redness on his skin from the brief shared moment and a longing stirred in her belly, resembling the one very clearly written on his face. They both wanted more but this was not the time or the place, so she went back to slowly swaying with him in a soft embrace. He melted into her, as he always did.

The kiss made him crave more but she was making it clear it wasn't going to happen. Not yet, at least. He enjoyed the way she held him though, so warm and soft and protected. It always messed with his emotions but he wasn't ashamed of how much he enjoyed it. Not even a little.

It wasn't long before their peaceful moment got interrupted. Mac nearly knocked them both down in excitement as he announced body shots taking place on the formerly used beer pong table. This was exactly the kind of chaos she'd come to expect from a frat party. Rafe's eyes glistened with mischief and she knew what he was going to say before he even spoke.

"What do you say? Wanna do body shots?" He had a playful smirk on his face, fully expecting her to roll her eyes and reject him.

"Sure." She nearly laughed at how quickly the smirk disappeared, replaced with a confusion which then gave way to cautious excitement. She smiled and took his hand, following where Mac had gone, presumably in the direction of the shots.

Rafe was buzzing with excitement as they made their way to the basement where the den was. That's where they usually used the old ping pong table for beer pong. A crowd was gathered around the table, whooping as a guy finished licking salt off a girl's neck. He couldn't believe she agreed to this. Holy shit.

They made their way to the table, waiting for another couple to finish, being next in line. Rafe could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body in anticipation. Then she turned to him and smirked and he thought he'd pass out right then and there. She was the sexiest woman alive, he'd swear it. He couldn't believe he got to call her his girlfriend.

"Shirt off." The command in her voice shook him to his core, too reminiscent of how she talked to him in the privacy of her bedroom. His pulse quickened in excitement. And then he processed her words and realized what she was saying.

"Lay down." Her eyes held a spark in them that always knocked his breath out of his lungs. Of course. Of course she would do this. He didn't know why he was expecting anything else. He followed her orders, like he always did. He had never been the one on the receiving end of body shots and he'd be lying if he said it wasn't turning him on.

The crowd went wild as he undressed and positioned himself on the table. She drank him in, all flushed, a sheen of sweat marking his body from the dancing. He looked delicious and she could feel arousal pool in her belly. It was messy, being like this in front of all these people. She knew, but in that moment she didn't have it in her to care. He was laying there, waiting for her and she wasn't going to deny either of them the high about to happen.

She moved into action, pouring salt on his collar bone and continuing a line down his chest, making Mac whoop out a "hell yeah!". She was solely focused on Rafe, though. He was getting more and more red as the seconds passed and he could feel the lust running through him. She was driving him insane. She put a lime wedge in his mouth and gave him a cheeky wink to which he silently groaned. A fucking tease.

With one last look into his wild eyes, she downed a shot of tequila and finally bent down to make contact with his skin. She licked a long strip from his belly button, over his chest, to his collar bones where she cleaned all the salt off his sticky skin. He shivered as her mouth moved to his neck, giving a cheeky bite to his sweet spot. His eyes rolled to the back of his head in response. She was evil for that.

Finally her eyes met his again as she leaned in to take the lime wedge from him, biting into it, letting the sour juice soak her tongue and complete her shot. The crowd cheered loudly and she quickly discarded the lime wedge to the side as she pulled him in and kissed him, deep and hot and messy.

Both of them were completely lost in the moment, the tension coming to a head as their tongues met and he tasted the liquior and lime on her. He moaned into the kiss, not caring about if anyone heard, solely focused on her. The kiss didn't last long but it awakened something in both of them. She managed to force herself back, to not give these strangers any more of a show than she already had, and pulled him up by his hand.

He struggled to find his feet, feeling completely fucking dazed from that kiss and that body shot and her touch and fuck she was ruining him.

As soon as they moved away from the table, the crowd's attention was taken by the next couple and they had a chance to take a breath. He was red all over, his shirt crumpled in his hand, his other hand in hers. She looked flushed as well, probably for the same reason he was. That was insane.

She kissed him again, finally out of the spotlight. This kiss was slower, but still as deep. He could feel his pants constricting him as he realized he was fully hard for her. She didn't miss it either, as she felt his length pressing against her abdomen. He groaned at the pressure and she pulled back to look at him.

He was embarassed so he lead her away from the basement, making sure to stay hidden behind her, not wanting anyone to witness his predicament. When they made it back to the ground floor he wasted no time in grabbing her hand and rushing up the stairs, her bemused laughter accompanying the movement.

"Where are you going?" She asked, trying to keep up with the speed at which he was practically running.

"My room." He spoke as if it was obvious as he pulled her in the direction of the room they'd both spent several nights tangled up together.

"Rafe, we're not having sex right now." She didn't want to be that couple, the one hooking up in the middle of a party after doing body shots. It felt like a cliche.

"No, I just need..." he trailed off as he unlocked his room, pulling her in as he turned the light on.

"Just need a moment." He looked down at his crotch with a blush and she smiled in understanding. He needs some privacy to calm down.

"Okay, baby." She kissed his cheek in reassurance and made her way to his desk chair, making herself comfortable.

He awkwardly stood there, not sure what to do now. Just having her in his room again was not helping with his problem. The thought of having to go take care of himself in the bathroom depressed him though. So he begrudgingly sat down on his bed and looked at her, confused.

She wanted to laugh at his expression, like he had no clue what to do with himself. His very obvious erection was not helping her calm down from what happened earlier. In fact, the fire in her was getting worse as she looked at him so vulnerable in front of her. Still shirtless, his chest moving with heavy breaths. It was driving her insane.

"Can I..." he didn't finish his thought, almost cursing at even saying anything. His voice had been so quiet she almost didn't hear him.

"What?" She drew the chair closer, to hear him better, making him take in a deep breath to try and get a hold of himself.

"Nothing. Forget it." He shook his head and refused to meer her eyes. That was unacceptable.

"Rafe." Her voice left no room for argument, she wanted him to tell her the truth.

"I was just... I wanted to..." he trailed off again feeling agitated that he couldn't just be confident in expressing himself the way he wished he could. He knew it frustrated her too and it made him feel worse.

"Wanted what, baby?" She moved to sit down next to him, her proximity only causing more frustration to bubble inside him.

"I want to taste you." He finally managed to verbalize his thoughts, meeting her eyes with apprehension.

"Oh..." she wasn't expecting that.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head at his apology.

"No, don't be. It's okay." She held his face in her hands then, observing him.

"Why are you so afraid, hm?" He gulped at her question, uncomfortable at her ability to see right through him all the time.

"I don't know, I just.. I don't wanna dissappoint you." She sighed and pulled him closer, placing a soft kiss on his lips. He exhaled in relief, she wasn't judging him.

"You would never dissappoint me by telling me what you want or how you feel, Rafe. I told you this." Her eyes were so kind it threw him.

"I know, I know. I just... I don't wanna screw this up." He looked embarrassed again and she hated it.

"You could never screw anything up by being honest. The opposite, actually." He nodded, feeling calmer as her fingers played with his hair.

"I'm sorry I'm so messed up." He let out a slight chuckle and she responded with a kind smile.

"You don't ever have to apologize for being human. Not to me. Not to anyone." She was looking at him with such conviction he couldn't help but nod. He wanted to believe her so badly.

"Is this something you've been wanting for a while?" He flushed again, remembeing his words form earlier, shyly nodding.

"Why didn't you say anything? Hm?" She placed her forehead against his, offering comfort and a grounding touch which was exactly what he needed.

"Dunno. Didn't want to overstep." He was finally being honest with her.

"By expressing your desires? To your girlfriend?" She was looking at him with slight amusement, and he blushed even more. She was right, it was silly

"When you say it like that it sounds dumb." He chuckled and she smiled at the sound. She kissed him again, a sweet kiss that helped ease his embarassment.

"I know I'm supposed to talk to you. I just didn't know how to bring this up without... I don't know... offending you." She nearly laughed at that.

"Offending me?" He shrugged.

"I don't know if it's allowed to ask for that." He blushed again, the teasing note in his voice not missed by her.

"You can ask for whatever you want, baby. I might not agree with everything, but you can always ask." She was serious now, wanting him to understand she meant it.

"Alright... So can I? Taste you?" He was holding his breath now, anticipating her answer. Truth be told he had been craving it for months - to please her like that. He enjoyed giving head before but he felt like he would explode with need over doing it for her.

"Not right now." She smiled.

"But I can... some other time?" He was desperate for her to say yes, to know he has a chance to fulfill this need, to please her like she deserves.

"Maybe." She was driving him crazy now.

"Maybe?" His tone was exasperated causing her to smile.

"Yes. Maybe." She pulled back so she could maintain eye contact.

"Eating my pussy is a privilege to be earned, Rafe. Not just something you can expect." He gulped as she spoke, driving him more and more insane with each word passing her lips. He wanted to scream with how hot she was, how sexy he found her confidence and how much he hated and loved her dominant personality all at once. He felt ready to beg. It was pathetic, really.

"How do I earn it?" His question made her stifle a chuckle, the eagerness in his tone endearing.

"By being a really, really good boy." She whispered the last part, his eyes glazing over, caught in a trance. She was so evil for playing with him when he's so messed up over her already.

"I'll do anything. I'll be so good." He would have been embarassed at how pathetic he sounded but he didn't have it in him to care, his arousal overwhelming him.

"You will, huh?" He nodded so fast she had to hold back from laughing. She couldn't believe he was begging to eat her out right now. This was not what she expected out of tonight.

"Yes. I'll be soo good for you. Please..." He was so far gone now, the whine in his voice causing her panties to dampen. Damn him. Damn him for how hot he looked, begging for her.

"You're gonna be good for me?" He was nodding along, clearly too far gone at this point to form words.

"Okay. I need you to calm down so we can go back downstairs." His brows furrowed as her words registered.

"What?" He asked, trying to clear the lustful haze from his brain.

"We came to a party, remember?" He was nodding along.

"So we're going back downstairs and you're going to enjoy yourself at the party you wanted us to come to. Yeah?" He finally started realizing she wasn't going to give him what he so desperately wants. She was mean for teasing him like that. He pouted again, giving her that kicked puppy look, but she stood her ground. He sighed loudly, feeling grumpy now.

"You're cruel." He mumbled as he got up and made his way to the door.

"What was that?" She heard him the first time but wanted to see if he'd have the balls to repeat it.

"Nothing. I'm going to the bathroom." He shuffled out of the room with his head down.

She felt a little guilty for rejecting him like that but she meant what she said. She didn't get all dressed up and come to this party just to end their night so soon. She knew this had been important to him and she didn't want his lust to distract him from what he really wanted to do tonight. Which is spend time with his friends and her, not to go back to their bubble the second they got horny. No. Tonight was a test for both of them, to practice some freaking self control. She had to be the strong one, cause he clearly couldn't be. Not when it came to this. But he made it really, really difficult to keep her head straight. Trouble personified.

Once he returned from the bathroom he seemed more calm, more in control of himself. He had splashed his face with water and spent an annoying amount of time sitting on the closed toilet seat, forcing himself to stop thinking dirty things and relax. It wasn't easy, with everything that happened in the basement and then his room. The teasing, the tension, it was all too much. But he understood why she rejected his advances, no matter how embarrassed he might be about it. He was the one who dragged them out to this party, making a big deal out of the night - so he had no right to be mad at her for trying to do what he had asked - experience the party with him.

So he shook his naughty thoughts off and managed to calm himself down enough to where his arousal was no longer noticable. It was the best he could do without jerking off and he really didn't want to do that.

She got up as he enterd the room, approaching him and pulling him into a hug immediately. He realized she felt bad for what happened but he wasn't upset anymore.

"It's okay. You're right. We should go back downstairs." She pulled back to look at him, to see if he was being honest with her. He smiled at her worry.

"I promise." He gave her a cheeky smirk and she accepted his answer, pressing a quick peck to his cheek and pulling him out of the room, back to the party.

He felt so lucky, holding her hand, seeing her interact with his friends, the smile on her face encouraging him to snap out of his thoughts and back to reality. He decided downing a few more shots would help him relax further, making it easier to forget how worked up he had been not 10 minutes ago.

As the night went on they hung out with his friends, drank, laughed and danced together. It was perfect. Exactly what he wished it would be like. He wanted her to like his friends and be comfortable around them and she seemed to be doing great.

They were in the kitchen again, her sitting on one of the bar chairs, chatting with one of the girls in the group. Completely smitten and unable to tear his eyes away, he just looked at her, his girlfriend - the realization making his heart feel so damn full he couldn't believe it. She was his girlfriend. How on earth did he get so fucking lucky?

She could feel his eyes boring into her for a while now, so she looked back at him finding him with a lovesick smile on his face, drunk and adorable, unashamed in his staring.

She decided to keep her drinking to a minimum, being the responsible one as always. It was in her nature. He was clearly already quite drunk but she didn't mind. She hadn't seen him drink that much during the time they've been together so she didn't feel a need to worry about it being a regular occurence. He just seemed really happy tonight and she didn't mind taking care of him once the time came. Which is something she never expected from herself at all- wanting to take care of a guy, not in terms of aftercare post sex, but in general. It made her question her sanity.

Once he realized she was looking at him the smile on his face only got bigger and he felt the intense urge to go to her, so he did. She smiled as he slightly stumbled into her, wrapping her arms protectively around him to steady him.

"Having fun?" She cheekily asked and he gave her the biggest boyish smile in return.

"Mhm, so much fun." He cuddled into her, taking her slightly by surprise. He was acting like they were the only people in the room, even though the kitchen was full of his friends. She could feel eyes on them as she played with his hair, the touch grounding, coaxing him back into reality.

"You okay, baby?" He simply nodded and nuzzled his face into her neck.

"Just happy." Her heart skipped a beat. She felt such intense affection for him in that moment it was unreal.

He wrapped his arms around her, making himself at home in between her legs, cocooning himself in her embrace. He was behaving the same way he did when they were alone, always desperate for her touch, to feel connected to her. It seemed even more intense now when they had a crowd of people looking at them.

"Feeling clingy?" She jokingly asked as the eyes of those around them burned into her skin. She didn't mind it but she was worried he might be embarrassed when he realized how he was acting in front of everyone.

"Just want you to hold me." He kissed her cheek and she could feel a slight blush forming where his lips met her skin.

She held him close, letting him soak in her touch, just as she did when they were in her apartment. She played with his hair and gave his back scratches in the same well practiced dance her fingers performed every day. She decided to break the moment by starting up a conversation with the same girl again as he cuddled into her in silence.

They stayed like that for a while and slowly but surely everyone got used to the odd sight of Rafe Cameron being clingy and soft as fuck, realizing this was normal behavior to the pair as she took it in stride.

After a while Rafe started getting antsy, she could feel him wiggling around and cocked a brow.

"What's up, angel?" Their eyes met and he pouted.

"Need to pee." He almost whined out causing her to chuckle.

"Then go pee?" She didn't understand his dilemma.

"Don't wanna." She realized what he meant, he didn't want to let go of her and leave her embrace even for a short bathroom trip. It made her almost laugh but she held back from it, seeing the serious expression on his face. He was drunker than she thought. She sighed, not believing what she was about to say.

"You want me to come with you?" She could see by the way he immediately brightened, she was right.

She couldn't believe she was so down bad that she'd baby a guy like this. But alas there she was, holding his hand and guiding him to the bathroom. She needed to maintain some dignity so she told him she'd wait outside for him to which he pouted but decided not to complain after seeing the resolution on her face. So she watched him stumble into the bathroom making a mental note to get him to drink water once they got back.

When he came out of the bathroom, he almost lost his footing nearly tripping until she caught him, steadying him. He was embarrassed at how drunk he'd gotten.

"We need to get you some water, baby." He noded his head, wrapping his arms around her again, quietly apologizing into her skin over and over and over while she shushed him and guided them back to the kitchen. As soon as they got there she was thrusting a water bottle at him.

"Drink the whole thing." Her tone left no room for argument so he drank the water obediently and she kept a watchful eye on him the whole time. As she did, she finally noticed something different in his costume. He had gotten redressed when he was in the bathroom upstairs, but something was missing.

"Where's your halo?" He stared at her confused, processing her words for a long moment until they finally set in. He hurried to check his head for the headband he was wearing at the beginning of the night only to find it gone. He set the now empty water bottle on the counter, turning around in search of the missing piece but it was nowhere to be seen.

"I lost it." He pouted, trying to think back to where he had it last but the task was impossible for his drunken mind. She softened at his sad expression, he looked like he might cry.

"It's okay, baby. It was only like 3 dollars." He shook his head, not feeling any better about it.

"But you got it for me." He looked so cute and pitiful, pouting like a kid over a piece of plastic.

"I can get you another one." She smiled as he brightened.

"Really?" She nodded, pulling him closer to fix the mess his hair.

"Really. It's not a big deal." But it was to him. It might have been a silly constume prop but he fully intended to keep it forever as a reminder of their night.

"Our costumes are ruined." He whined and she held back a laugh at his theatrics.

"I don't think anyone cares about our costumes anymore, Rafe." She was right, everyone was too drunk to care about any of that at this point.

"I do.... Now we don't look like a couple anymore." She sighed in exasperation.

"But we are a couple, baby." He smiled at that, hiding his face in her shoulder making her chuckle. He was adorable when he got all shy from her petnames. She knew he loved it when she called him baby the most.

"Wanted everyone to know..." he whined into her skin, apparently not done with the topic yet. She rolled her eyes at what she was about to do to appease him. She really is down bad for this guy.

She pulled out her red lipstick and her phone, reaplying the colour to her lips while he watched her like it was the most fascinating sight in the world.

"Here." She planted a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a print of her lips on his skin. He blushed as she showed him his face on the phone screen, feeling all giddy again.

"Happy now?" She was starting to annoy herself with her need to make him happy tonight.

"Yes. Thank you." He hugged her again, taking in the smell of her hair, feeling sated at last.

As soon as things were starting to feel somewhat peaceful again, Aaron had to make a comeback. She had no patience left in her body for anyone's bullshit and she figured it was around time to get going anyways. She looked down at Rafe, sleepily leaning on her, eyes drooping, realizing he was ready for bed.

"Time for bed, baby?" He groaned in disaproval, not wanting to end the night yet.

"Hungry." She barely managed to make out his mumbling. She hadn't seen any food around except for some chips which was not really good enough to sate a stomach as drunk as his. He needed actual food.

"How about we get you to your room and I order something? Hm?" He looked cute, thinking it over, she could practically see the wheels in his head turning with concentration.

"But we're supposed to go back to yours." The little pout was back on his lips and she realized he pouted a lot when he was drunk.

"I don't think I can carry you back to my place, baby. We can ask Mac for help up the stairs yeah?" He shook his head, the movement clearly making him temporarily dizzy and she worried he might end up falling over.

"M'not that drunk." The slur in his words contradicting his conviction. She simply rolled her eyes and located Mac who was also quite drunk but seemed still capable of helping her out.

"Mac!" The brunet immediately made his way to where the two were standing. "Help me get him upstairs?" He wasted no time nodding and grabbing his best friend under his arms to drag him to his room. Rafe protested again but after stumbling decided to keep his mouth shut and accept the help. He could still walk to an extent so Mac didn't need her help, managing to get him to his room fairly quick helping him down on his bed.

"I'm sorry." He kept apologizing, feeling bad for ruining the night. She disagreed. She'd had plenty of fun with him tonight and him being drunk was but a minor inconveniece to an overall good time. She explained this to him, kissing his cheek in reassurance.

Mac had made himself scarce quickly and she was thankful for the privacy and the quiet of the room. She ordered them both a burger and fries and played with his hair while they waited. It didn't take long for him to doze off.

Once her phone pinged, she snuck out not to wake him and made her way outside to get the food, pushing past the rest of the drunken party downstairs. When she came back his eyes were barely open, it seemed he had woken up by her absence. She smiled showing him the food and he returned it, stomach grumbling with hunger.

They finished their food quite quickly, given how hungry they were, throwing the trash in the bag to be dealt with tomorrow. She changed into his t-shirt and despite the sleepiness overcoming him, his eyes still stared at her body, unable to control himself when she was so damn beautiful. She caught him staring and chuckled at his awestruck expression. He had the same look on every time he saw her undress.

"Come on baby, lets get you changed, hm?" She helped him pull his shirt off and struggled to take off his pants but eventually managed. He had an adorable grin on his face as she made herself comfortable beside him. She reached for him and he immediately made himself at home in her arms. Sleeping with her had become one of his absolute favorite things in the world. He never sleeps better than when he's wrapped up in her arms.

"Good night." He whispered into her hair and she laid a light kiss on his temple as the exhaustion finally caught up to her.

"Good night, my angel."

.........................................

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @torturedtypewritersdept @kinkyrafe @mentallynot-here @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @fangirlwithlou @rafesxgold @malfoytargaryen @theyluvmesblog @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife @piceous21 @ditzyballerina @xoxo3m1ly @jessmaybank @whore-4-drewstarkey @palmwinemami @dustbunniess @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @starkowswife @ietss @beansprout713 @starkeysbebe @miahxelizabeth @lalalalala33

[ablobwhowrites]

When the bots found out m/n has a favorite

Vehicon m/n in Cybertron school be like

The dynamic of Vehicon m/n and SG Vehicon m/n

Vehicon m/n in the RID universe

Since you plan to have yandere trollhunter

M/n is reconsidering his life rn

A bonus

Vehicon m/n healing

Bayverse transformer universe is vehicon m/n's nightmare, cause he is scared of Megatron cause he'd rather be with Arachnid than being dragged into the bayverse cause he thinks that Megatron will grab him and rip him in two like jazz (he would never...just a leg maybe) he also is scared Quintessa cause like have you seen what she can do?

Vehicon m/n: "I don't have favorites. What makes you feel like I have favorites?" *Looks behind him* "oh my primes

Also love the mental image of Optimus giving vehicon m/n especially when bro need one cause bro is the embodiment of “it’s you!” To the “despite everything it’s still you.”

B-127: "hey guys I found m/n!...but they kinda look weird?"

vehicon m/n: "how the fuck did I get here?"

Trollhunter m/n whispering : "it's okay, we just have to be super quiet"

*loud notification*

Toby: "hey clash of claAAAA-"

*m/n gets snatched by bular*

trollhunter m/n when he gets a magical weapon that they have no idea how to use. (you guys can decide what weapon it is)

Tfa arachnid: "I created you, you created me"

Tfa y/n: "Optimus why did you create that guy?"

Optimus: "I didn't! I tried to save her!" (I rewatched transformers animated)

Vehicon m/n: "finally a normal looking motorcycle"

Rid m/n: "odd green motorcycle but hey at least it's normal, let's take it back to base can be a cool present for Russel or-"

*motorcycle transforms into kickback*

Vehicon m/n: "ITS A BIG ASS BUG, IT OFF ME OH MY GO-"

(kickback is a big ass bug so I'd be really freaked out if that big ass cricket got in me. Also I love the minicons in the show but also is like underbite some kind of dog or something like that? Cause steeljaw is a wild) w

I had this thought when watching transformers one for the 3rd time, what if vehicon m/n had D-16’s crash out? Like as vehicon m/n slowly realizing Silas took everything from him, his life, his ability to every see his family again and then snaps at prime basically dong the same talk D-16 did in the movie but only wanting revenge on Silas but if he wasn’t talked out of it by prime then basically I think slowly m/n would turn to the decepticons basically only being blinded by rage and revenge for Silas. Should I let vehicon m/n crash out for a little while? Cause I feel like he deserves a small bit to crash out but I don't know what do you guys think?

Anyways hope you guys are well and please stay hydrated and get plenty of rest guys.

[cinhomi]

okok i saw you wanted some ideas so here we go:

y/n is a waitress at a diner and one day skz comes in, but hyunjin can’t take his eyes off her. he keeps coming back to the diner and doesn’t leave until closing time anddddd I’ll leave the rest to you!!

this is a real y/n experience 🤭 but you didn't specify if skz are famous or not in this so I'm taking some liberties 😈

ALSO I'M SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG I KNOW THIS ISN'T MUCH BUT I HOPE YOU WILL STILL LIKE IT

Reservations for a lot of people are usually a nightmare to receive. Dirty dishes all over the kitchen, orders appearing from nowhere like mushrooms in a forest, rude people making demands over demands, and overall too much noise.

So when you personally answer the restaurant's phone and hear about eight people asking for a table... well, two tables, for tonight? The scream you let out is unfortunately just in your head. Your colleagues turn around when you shut the cordless phone on its stand, and your hands go to grab your hair, desperately. They hear the news. You all will be without any hair on your head by the end of the day.

It's the third time they call you over to take some orders, and the second one that they giggle when you come closer to their table. Weird. How much do men even eat? Do their stomachs have an end? More than annoyed, you're impressed by how many plates are stacked on the two tables. You carefully take them, and the towers these guys built are somehow stable and you pick them up effortlessly… they must be experts in the art of eating at restaurants.

“Can we please have some more rice?” someone asks, and a few others agree, but there is just one guy… he never talks when you come to hear their requests, or clear the space.

When you get a good glance at him behind the counter, when one of his friends goes to the bathroom and leaves an empty spot in front him, you feel your breath being knocked away from your lungs.

Plump rosey lips appearing more and more beautiful as they move with his words and part when he eats. His cheeks are a bit tinted, maybe from the alcohol he's been drinking since they arrived. Eyes long and feline, irises shining under the dim light right above his head, that also makes his long hair appear as a frame for his face, with his skin being the color of honey carefully crafted by expert bees.

His gaze finds yours once again, and he stops talking. The mole under his left eye twitches a little, as he tries to focus more the image of you in his vision. It makes you blush.

You see his friends nudge his elbow when they catch him staring in your direction, and a choir of teasing noises arises as they notice you were staring right back at him.

You come back to their table, and every time they try to embarass him, but you just smile and giggle at their jokes, not really noticing how your face always assumes the same color of gochujang. He smiles and keeps looking at you every time as if lost in thought, maybe used to his friends teasing him a lot. He must be someone popular. He has a kind face.

His friends call him Hyunjin.

Hyunjin smiles at you whenever your eyes meet and he always thanks you when you bring food or drinks.

Hyunjin sits straight and smiles absentmindedly all the time. He looks like a lovesick puppy.

Hyunjin is the only one that stays at the restaurant at almost closing time, when his seven friends thank you a million times and wink at him.

“Is there something else I can do for you...”

“Hyunjin. Please, call me Hyunjin. What is your name?”

When he hears your name his white teeth sink into his bottom lip, a wide smile taking over his face, as his head tilts slightly to the side.

“I was thinking of having dessert… what is your favourite that your restaurant makes?” his voice is soft and velvety smooth. Tempting. Sensual.

“The chocolate cake, I'd say. It's simple but satisfying and rich in flavor.”

Hyunjin slowly closes the menu, and places it in front of him, his hands playing a bit with the pages, as he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Would you like to have some with me, when you finish your turn?”

Oh… you've never been more happier about a client staying overtime.

[originaltravelerfun]

my biggest problem with hazbin hotel writing after everything

guys do you notice how badly vivzie doesn't want to directly mention the theme of morality?

its always there, it flashes everywhere but she chooses to walk on edges. the redemption, extermination, falling in hell, god we literally have hell vs heaven war with these themes. and after everything the question "is this the right thing to do?" just exists like small stream of wind.

never in the show charlie asks herself "is my redemption plan is right?" she should know that there are very bad people who can also badly hurt others because she is there for a long. but this knowledge never brings up and we have to accept the fact that charlie is just an infantile and too stupid to comprehend evilness despite also knowing what good means. its really weird how the princess of hell who should already know the hellish history and society acts like she for the first saw someone like valentino being evil. SHE DIDNT LIVE FOR LONG IN HEAVEN (what could explain the blindness towards evil nature), SHE LIVED FOR LONG IN HELL, FUCKING HELL. how after many years she cant deal with the evilness of her people and instead just believe in a power of friendship? WHERE SHE WAS SO SHELTERED TO GET THIS MINDSET IN THE END?

its very weird how every theme that is revelant in this show, is literally connected with defining good vs evil BUT vivzie never, never makes us think about that. we just should accept the writing telling us what happened is good or bad, or even worse, doesn't matter and it was just for funnies (like that rpe joke with Sir Pentious).

the reason why this morality thing got in my mind is that im afraid what season 2 brings to us. im afraid that they will never mention elephant in the room: possibly irredeemable people. and hearing another doubtful information makes me scared that viv goes to the route "actually, there is no evil people and it just fault of some metaphoric disease that makes people evil!". and im very afraid of this happening in the future because it seems to be that everyone just ignores the existence of Irredeemableness. like doing evil doesnt really matter and there is just winners/losers side of history.

for some reason Sir Pentious in the past got in hell because of him ignoring the situation. let me mention he is the first to be ascended of all sinners and this backstory makes him pitiful for a reason. of all backstories, they chose the most depressing one. where he is a shut-in who had no will to change the inevitable situation. bro do not tell me you didnt do this to make another point of "innocent sinners"

emily. if not for emily, i wouldn't writing this. she is the angel version of charlie who also promotes "sinners deserve redemption" but also ignores existence of serial killers, rpists and another kinds of "that evil" people. the same problem charlie has but i can understand it at least.

I am not scared for saying this. viv seems to be not mature enough to even explore the concept of her show if she is afraid of exploring complete monsters (like exploring undoubtable evil AND NOT MAKING IT CONTROVERSIAL LIKE WITH VALENTINO AND ANGEL) and just stays on the line "of pure good (every main character) and wrongful revenge (VVVs, Adam, Lute and other exorcists, not gonna be surprised of Lilith adding to this group)".

of all characters, i only feel sympathy for lute (and also sir pentious with how he was handled throughout the show). sera was just stupid and wanted bloodshed because of her special placement in an angelic hierarchy. i dont believe this bullshit of her caring about well-being of her people when she went with extermination as it was nothing. all she should have said is that there are very horrible people and hell is not worth of being a threat to her lovely power. well, they didn't go for this route for some reason. now sera got in wrong too and she got in the first group with everyone.

TELL ME

TELL ME WHY NO ONE STILL POINTS ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM AND WE JUST ACCEPT THAT HELL IS JUST MISUNDERSTOOD

This is why I only care about Lute now because she is the only who has brain to acknowledge that there's monsters in hell

im so done with this show bro

[p1zzaparty]

a very small, tiny, itty bitty detail i love to see in other peoples drawings of the Losers, especially as adults or young adults even, is what kind of fashion is given to them

like its almost a given that everyones Richie has some weird collection of shitty t-shirts with some nerd thing attached to it. Or brightly colored button ups with polka dots and stripes.

Eddie seems to stump everyone because i've seen him from everything to sweaters, to expensive formal wear, to neon rainbow tank tops. Personally i always saw that guy, with his bright pink and blue polo shirts and simple plain tees, as just a mixed bag of beans. He still dresses like mommy picked out clothes that she thinks would look super handsome on him, with his little stiff gelled combed hair to match. But he rarely, probably has anything that has actual words or icons on his shirts. Maybe a national park sweater here and there, that guy probably loooves gift shops. I think now with his big boy money he'll stray away from his usual get up, splurge a little, buy something branded, something new and expensive. Also something stupid, like shoes that are way too expensive. He's a fake sneakerhead, only really investing in brands he THINKS are cool or trendy. Not that he cares too much about being trendy and cool, like Richie probably does. Just...gets an ear worm sometimes, whispering to him about how they aren't that bad looking, and that he's buying it for himself, not because some jackass on tv wore them. Maybe a shiny new watch too, and maybe even a band shirt for pj-only purposes. Otherwise he's pretty strict on his expenses and just buys what fits and works as a shirt, pants, etc. Comfort over design, squarish in appearance, boxy and casually professional. I don't see him wearing a suit outside of work or waltzing into his nearest cheap café with a confident blazer and matching ironed pants. I doubt that guy even owns an iron, probably forgot to even buy one after mummy-kins passed. Even after she screeched and raved about it too, and he just ignored her tangents, assuming it wasn't even that important, all while his shirts became crinklier and sadder much like him. Sometimes i see people make him almost tooooo strict and formal and buttoned up, to y'know match Richies more casual and stoner-dork like style that's sometimes assigned to him. But Eddie, to me, is always a business casual kinda guy. Like, paid business trip to a golf course casual. Throwing on what's comfortable, giving a healthy amount of thought to what people might think of you. You will NOT find this man dressed to the nines at home, but he does, in fact, have a little pocket protector on his stupid shirt. With a pen or pencil thrown in just to make use of it, an old candy wrapper he forgot about and WILL get washed with it, or a few crumbs from his earlier microwaved breakfast burrito he had to scarf down before Myra had something to say about its ""toxic"" ingredients.

His clothes probably vary in size by a very small margin. Knowing a ball park guess of his pants and shirt sizes, always forgetting to add in it going through the washer, or how a size 30 is a size 31 in Canada or whatever. Probably because he was so used to mummy buying everything for him, even into his early 20s in college. Now he's free from her suffocating grasp, he still copies her sense of fashion and rarely does anything outlandish or fashionable. I think later down the line, in the cannon he survives and goes off to live a happily ever after with Richie, that he'd begin to explore a bit more. Getting that sugar baby money helps, and he'd have to try and buck up with Richie, trying to copy him slightly in terms of fashion.

He's a bland man Sarah, a BLAND man!

[agirlwithglam]

🌟 become your dream girl before 2025! 🌟

THIS WILL *ACTUALLY* CHANGE YOUR LIFE.

do you know how many people are waiting until next year to glow up and actually start to become their dream self? now just think, if you started now, before 2025, how far you would be. how much more skills and knowledge you would have. you're literally getting a head start. so what are you doing dilly-dallying until 2025? heres your guide to ending this year accomplishing everything you need to and starting 2025 with everything you need.

in this post i will include mindset shifts, how to become a better person, actionable advice, actually becoming a new person <3

👑know what you want.

who do you want to become at the end of this year? what does your dream girl look like? what kind of body does she have? her clothes? who are the people she hangs out with on a daily basis- friends?

create a very clear version in your head and use pinterest to show photos of what your goals are- for ex: girls at the gym, journalling, writing, studying, reading, learning, walking, with friends, spending time outside, going swimming, playing sports, doing a skill/ hobby.

you can also find an idol/ an inspiration- a youtuber, influencer, parent, anyone who you look up to and want to somewhat have a similar life like them. (for ex: thewizardliz, tam kaur) whatever is important to you this goes hand in hand with the next point:

👑goals.

any unfinished projects, any goals you said you'd do in the beginning of the year, get them all down on paper. if you've finished any of them, great!- tick them off. but if you haven't then its time to lock in. pick the ones that are most important to you. that you know that achieving these will 100% get you closer to your goal. doing this makes sure you get rid of the ones that you think are "productive" when in reality they just help you procrastinate.

finish any unfinished projects or books you have before the new year begins because 2025 is about bringing in new, fresh opportunities and things. for me personally, i have a few crochet projects that i want to finish before the end of this year so i can start the new year with nothing old from the year before!

👑cutting.

you are going to be becoming a new person- new mindset, new values, new perception on life, etc. the people in your life currently probably won't align with this new version of you. because if the people around you still only know the old you, your growth won't happen because it will feel extremely unnatural without the right people around you. this means you're going to have to decide whether you are letting any of your friends go. if they don't serve you or make you feel happier or bring in any value to your life, im sorry but its time to cut them off.

but of course if you actually have good, kind, loving friends who grow with you and support you all the way, keep them. the goal is to remove the people who don't serve your highest self. not remove the people who you know will be there for you.

but along with this, if you notice that those people are acting a bit more weirdly/ strangely now that you're improving- giving you backhanded compliments, talking about you behind your back, or just giving you a weird vibe in general, trust your gut. those people don't want to see you going to a higher place where you're thriving- keeping them in your life can be terrible for your highest good.

remember that doing this doesn't mean that you're not going to get better because BETTER ALWAYS COMES. god will give you more people who you couldn't have ever dreamed could be so amazing. so never keep toxic people in your life out of fear that you'll be alone forever. (remember: 8 billion people in the world.)

👑mindset.

dont wait to change your mindset only once you achieve the dream body or the best grade- start now. people can take away everything from you but they can't take away your mindset, skills, and knowledge. here are some mindset shifts to develop:

the abundance mindset. know that everything happens for your highest and greatest good only! everything will work out in the end for you because God hasn't put you on this earth to suffer. if you are religeous (God) or spiritual (the universe) or even believe theres a higher faith, why on earth would you willingly believe that your purpose here is to have a bad time? obstacles will come your way and you will make bad decisions and mistakes. but all these jsut contribute to the person you are today and the person who you'll be in the future!

i will make it. believe in your vision and yourself so fiercely that you know in your bones that you will achieve your goals. you will travel the world and discover new places, you will get to retire your parents, you will get to buy expensive bags for your mom, you will be that rich sister/daughter/ wife, you will help people around the whole world, you will have people around you who love and care for you, you will achieve whatever dream you had since you were a kid and whatever dream you have right now. you will you will you will! know this so strongly but also know that i will achieve there one day, but i also am so blessed and grateful for the life i have right now! i have so many privileges and such an amazing life that i would never trade away for anything.

growth mindset if you fail, IT IS NOT THE END OF THE WORLD. please stop being afraid of failing, be afraid of never trying!! you have no idea how freeing failing is because once you do, then you'll never have that "what if" in the back of your mind, never have that small voice asking what could have happened if you had done that thing. so if you do fail, perfect! that means that you won't waste any more time wondering what would have happened. having a growth mindset means that you know you're human and you'll make mistakes, but that doesnt make you a bad person and it doesn't take away your capability to still accomplish your goals. if you fail be able to brush it off, and keep trying again and again. Thomas Edison had 1000 failed attempts to make the light bulb. yet he learnt from what didn't work, took that into consideration, then tried again. and again. and again. and now? your probably sitting in a room with light that you have because he persisted in his goal!

stay positive always have a positive outlook and perspective of life. look at the beauty and what you have instead of what you lack. feel happy joyful energy vibrate through you everyday. do things that just make you a more positive person in general! feeling happier makes you look 100x more attractive and will change the way you interact with the world!!

👑be a better person.

new year new you right? so its time you up level the way you talk and treat others. because the goal isn't to be A b*tch, the goal is to be THAT b*tch! so going around being rude isn't going to do anything for you. being kind however- having manners, checking up on people, asking how their day was, being charismatic, etc- thats what can get you so much more opportunities! you're going to be kind, but not a people pleaser- ofc prioritise yourself always but also at the same time- if you have made a commitment to be somewhere for someone at a certain time, honor that commitment. be the friend you wish you had.

being mean to everyone just because you were hurt by someone else is not it. yes, so you were hurt. grow, evolve, heal. you're stronger than this. you're stronger than you think. you can overcome anything and you can become an even better person, capable of loving fully and wholly!

misc tips:

change what you consume. start watching thewizardliz, tam kaur on youtube. have an inspiration/ idol to look up to in life.

workout. i dont care if its not one of your goals to have a fit body, but don't workout for that. workout because you love yourself. because its actually proven to make you happier, because you deserve a healthy, fully functioning body.

DRINK WATER. do you know how many benefits something as simple as that has? clear skin, unchapped lips, better digestive health, weight management, better health, feel more alert and energized, better for immune system, increases brain power, eliminate toxins, ETC ETC!

have a morning routine that literally sets yourself up for success. stimulate your mind with reading self help, learn something, study, focus on a skill, do something that makes your mind active.

journal & check in with yourself.- document your progress! write about how you felt after everyday. did you feel esp happy during anything? do you feel satisfied at the end of the day? or do you find that your day made you feel tired and drained? do you feel regret and wished you did more at the end of the day?

diary- links with the earlier point. document the day. you can write about it, or what i also like to do is video myself yapping to the camera. talk about whatever you want and let your mind wander free!

you are that it girl! dress the part, smell good, make yourself feel so good that you just can't help but feel like you can conqure anything!!

make sure you're consistently reminded of your goals. what do you want? why do you want to achieve it? reminding yourself of your goals will actually motivate you and make you stop procrastinating. for me its that i don't want any old projects or books having to continue into the new year so i've made a plan that will definitely get it done before the next year!