#should have some new stuff coming soonish ^^

[redrumrose]

Revoke his parent card xD

To the Hangar!

---

Oh to be a little lab mouse dad with your lab mouse son who's gonna be EXACTLY like you in every single way 100% ^^; (spoiler: he's not)

[creature-wizard]

Caution & Critical Thinking In Divination

Some of you might have been led to think that divination in some form or another is a fully reliable method to work out any kind of information; at least, so long as you can find a decent practitioner. But if there's any practitioner out there who can really nail 'em 100% of the time, most of us have yet to find them. Sure, we can find some people out there who can offer us some genuine insights and advice, but I don't think any of us here have ever met anyone who can get everything right all of the time.

In fact, there are a lot of reasons to exercise caution in terms of how we perceive and practice divination. For one thing, certain cognitive biases can make us overestimate it accuracy, while there are serious ethical concerns to be considered.

First, let's talk about the cognitive biases.

There's the Forer Effect, where we mistake vague or general statements as incredibly personalized, and therefore, highly accurate. Anyone who has ever considered a tarot reader super accurate because the reader told them that they were experiencing some conflict and needed to let go of things that were no longer serving them has experienced the Forer Effect.

There's also confirmation bias, where we latch onto details that feel relevant to us and let ourselves forget about the rest. How many of you pick-a-pile tarot reading video watchers out there are really keeping score of how much fit your situation vs. how much didn't? If you're not, try and start paying more attention.

Scammers will absolutely take advantage of this bias. For example, many fake mediums will make statements like, "I'm sensing a name starting with M... Mary... Maggie... Mildred..." Most of us probably know at least one person whose name starts with M, and if the medium sticks to the more common ones, is probably going to give a name that belongs to someone you know. This technique is known as shotgunning.

Sometimes, a reader will actually, genuinely make a super accurate observation or prediction. But that doesn't necessarily mean that you should take everything they say really seriously. For example, if someone makes a lot of predictions, then one of them is bound to come true eventually. The psychological phenomenon of thin-slicing can also produce some incredibly accurate readings.

There's also self-fulfilling prophecy. Let's say you ask a reader to tell you how your next date will go. The reader says it's not going to go well because the person you're on a date with is just not going to be a great person. Because you go in expecting your date to be kind of an ass and thinking this is going to be a waste of your time, you act hostile and impatient. Your date sees you acting this way and responds in kind - seemingly fulfilling the reader's prediction.

Certain bad discernment practices can make us mistake information we want to be true for information that is true. For example, in New Age and New Age-influenced communities, you might hear that you can discern spiritual truth by asking yourself whether it makes you feel good or bad. A reader might announce that the light beings from space are going to reveal themselves to the world on some soonish date, and tell people to ask their higher selves if they doubt them. The people who would really like it if benevolent aliens came to Earth and haven't learned yet that people are always making predictions like these and that these predictions always fail will most probably feel this surge of excitement, seemingly confirming the truthfulness of this information.

None of this is to say that you should never practice divination or go to a tarot reader or anything, but you need to be aware of this stuff so you can more critically evaluate readings.

Now let's move onto ethical concerns. Because to be blunt, some methods of divination are deeply, deeply inappropriate.

In general, any reading for a person who isn't there and cannot give consent is just... no. Anyone who does this most probably believes that divination works to some meaningful degree, which means that they are choosing to violate this person's privacy. Sometimes it's just straight-up stalking behavior, like trying to divine what your ex is thinking about and when you're going to get back together. Instead of being a creep, just do a cord-cutting spell and get on with your life.

If you need to find out what's going on with someone who is your partner? You need to work on your communication skills and talk to them, not run around them by going to a tarot reader who may or may not even give you accurate information.

Also, reading for celebrities is just... not great. News media treating celebrities' personal lives like more consumable products makes it easy to forget that celebrities are literally just people and also have a right to privacy. Trying to use your preferred method of divination to invade their privacy and dig into their love lives or whatever is just really not okay. You might not think it's a big deal, but it still feeds into our overall culture of commodifying celebrities' lives. If you're just bored and need something to do, you can use your divination tools as imagine prompts for fictional characters. If you're the kind of person who hyperfixates on real people, consider studying the life of a dead historical person.

Now we have to talk about a huge problem in the way a lot of people treat astrology. A lot of people use it like you can just tell anything and everything about a person's behavior and demeanor, even to the point of determining which people are good and which are evil. In reality, research has shown that you cannot tell anything about a person from their birth chart. (And there's no such thing as an ontologically good or bad person.)

Finally, because divination isn't really known for having a great record when it comes to gaining objective information, you should not use it to:

Diagnose or treat medical conditions.

Try to figure out what's "really" going on out in the world. The news may be unreliable, but this is a surefire way to speedrun total divorcement from reality. (Like the people who think Donald Trump is doing all kinds of heroics "behind the scenes" because the tarot cards seemingly told them so.)

Making firm predictions about the future.

For those of you wondering what does constitute an ethical, appropriate use of divination, here are some examples:

Using it as a means of self-reflection.

Using it to find alternative ideas and perspectives.

Deciding what you, personally will do in response to a situation.

Helping a client decide what they, personally will do in response to a situation.

And this, I think, sums about everything up. Divination can be enriching, fun, and useful, but it's important to exercise care and caution. We have to use critical thinking and also be mindful that we aren't turning into creeps or enabling creeps with it.

Happy witchin'!

[delta-gambit-au]

FAQ about Delta-Gambit

As I mentioned before, I think this post should clarify a lot of questions behind my project. If anything is missing, be kind to tell me so and I'll edit.

((05/OCT/2024 -- I'm going to unpin this temporally until I finish tidying up this post -- had a huge set-back IRL that will dent my ability to focus on the project)) ((15/SEP/2024 -- Still trying to catch up on pending stuff for my blog, now that I'm getting more confident with Ibis Paint on the phone and combining it with CSP, I'll be able to focus on doing some organizing on this blog soonish. After that I'll focus on the stuff I owe to other people 😳 (not 3D because I still can't buy a GPU replacement for my broken one, but at least I can draw picturs... if RL stops nagging me with their selfish requests) ((18/AUG/2024 -- I gotta do some cleanup in this post later down the month now that I'm learning how to handle better the blog's presentation by watching how other people do theirs. Please disregard the present mess until then.))

((05/AUG/2024 -- I think I should add some disclaimer here -- currently I'm working on the project very slowly due to several RL issues that doesn't give me enough spare time a day -- until I get a new tablet (now a new GPU) to work faster I'll keep posting sketches and other things that I can do on the phone and 3D renders of my AU and OCs of other people -- I apologize for the slow trickling of content on my blog and thank you for dropping by))

🔵 What is this AU about?

This AU branches out after a half-baked Pacifist Route in which the plea of Spamton has been ignored by Kris for too long. Everything else is as a normal Pacifist Route, but with a tasteful twist. The story revolves around Spamton mostly, but he isn't the sole protagonist of this story, as other characters come to prominence later on and get tangled in a deep conspiracy that puts all of their lives at stake. It's roughly a story about the lives of the Darkners in a Dark World more than character centric drama, but I get to weave a ton of narrative devices that so far is being loved by all my proof-readers.

🔵 Is this AU related to any other AU?

Nope. This AU was created without any knowledge about anybody else's AU in the past. In fact, I didn't know other people made theirs until I read about it and that's when I came to the realization that what I did was called as "AU" 👀 I started writing the prologue draft at the end of January 2024, but I did not make any contact with the fandom up until the end of March 2024.

🔵 Why you make so many experimental art not related to the visual novel?

Because that's my way of training art, and I'd rather pick my characters as theme and focus of my training than practicing with something else to be honest. I also need to practice drawing my characters more often so that I can stay consistent with the designs when I start to build up the visual novel in Unreal Engine 5.

🔵 Do you have any samples of the visual novel?

Currently nope, as I'm still in training, learning through an Udemy course a friend of mine gifted me to learn how to make visual novels in Unreal Engine 5. Until I get the script of the first season done, I'll not work on the visual novel, because it would be dumb to work on it and not have any complete chapters done to start sharing them.

🔵 Will the visual novel be free to play or?

The visual novel will be free to download, but of course, you can always give a tip of kromer if you think my work is worthy of it 😁

It will be published on Locals, Itch.io and on Steam (this last one further down the line because of how it must be setup and the $100 that costs to get a game slot on Steam).

I'd also upload gameplay of it on my YouTube and Rumble channels if you are more of watching others playing it than playing the game yourself.

🔵 You mentioned a "season". Is your visual novel split in seasons?

I thought about calling them "arcs" but then I settled with the word "seasons" because of how animated they are and visual-novel format is almost like watching a movie but with huge captions. I've enough material for 1 season (of roughly 12~15 chapters, depending if I need to split chapters more because of their length) and I have ideas for a Season 2 that can survive on its own up until Chapter 3, 4 and 5 of the original Deltarune comes. Then after we get more official Deltarune story, I'll be able to produce a third season.

(moved updates to a different post)

🔵 Why Spamton though?

idk, brainrot? My Spamton should be called DG!Spamton, to distinguish it from the original (or other Spamton in the fandom). Though both are similar (if not identical) mine has something that made a few Spamton haters to start to like Spamton. I don't know how to explain it… It just works ._.

🔵 How do you pronounce "Spwatchton"?

S-pwatch-ton

🔵 Are you a Spaniard?

Born and raised, and it shows in my odd way of writing. Hope you don't mind some typos here and there but I try my utmost to quash them when I see them 😅

Also and just in case, you may address me as he/him or they/them but since I'm NB you may use whatever pronouns you feel comfortable with 😉I love you all 💌 (in the most respectful way)

You may call me Spwatchton or Spwatch, we're not picky.

[monsterritory]

AU Anon here! I am sorry if the chaos of Primeboys is killing your joy for them.

It’s not for me but I understand if it is for you! :D!

Nah, don't worry. I'll still be putting those blorbos into situations even if they publicly denounce each other. I always end up finding what I want in a story, running with it and taking it from there.

If I've been a little quieter about disc duo (have I??), or haven't updated Toad yet, it's because I've been...

...working on something. For the past... 9 years.

...Actually, no, I haven't been quite about disc duo at all. I've started a whole new miniseries AU about them. You should check it out, I'll update it soonish. Maybe tonight. Who knows. There's some fun stuff coming, I know that much.

I also made a one shot comic about Techno. If you'd like to see.

[xmimiteh]

Here we go again. I have been back from my business trip for a week now. Slowly recovered from my cold and now I am about to head out for another week - this time on a private vacation. My first real one this year, so... I was looking sooo much forward to it! It is not long and we will not be going far away.

Just a bit away, one or two driving hours into the countryside. Away from my PC. Somehow I would wish to use the freetime for so much stuff on my PC, but that will come afterwards. I have a free week after that as well. So... look forward to being flooded with original Mimi content soonish! Though, I have to finish FF16 as well at some point. So I will utilize that free week so much for catching up on basically anything. At least that's the plan. Unless I catch another cold. Let's hope that will not happen.

Also have some new prompts (thank everyone for that!), still need to catch up on the older ones and maaaaybe I might look into some ask prompts as well. Been rather hesitant with that and only asked other people about their OCs so far. But maybe I will give it a try as well. I am just a bit afraid those asks might pile up in my inbox and I might procastrinate too much.

So, don't worry if you do not see me online as much the coming week. I will be back on Sunday and then I will be back and make it your problem again. No, just joking. Just happy my cold is nearly gone and I am really excited for our trip. We planned some hiking, but considering the constant rain the last week, maybe it will be mostly some chilling in the hotel. Luckily we booked one with a spa and swimming pool. So it should not be a problem.

See you on Sunday again! Okay, maybe I will see you sooner, because I do have my mobile phone with me and will check in on tumblr. But as I hate typing on my mobile phone, I probably will not write much, but simply throw some likes on your awesome content. Thanks for being such an amazing community! You truly are my favorite FF14 bunch - aside from my friendlist in game, of course. Truly appreciate you all and your positivity!

So, I'm going to wake up, get up and get out there! This earworm is sponsored to you by, well ... me! But really, if you have not played Persona 5, what are you doing? Seriously!

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Desire, Despair and Updates

OK, drawing is still off the table. My lack of light tolerance won't let me stare at a brightly-lit white surface long enough to be productive. The doctor puts it down to severe dry eyes, but she was running over an hour behind and I did not get much of her time. I got another follow-up next month.

Reading glasses and eye drops are recommended, but distortion from reading glasses is making me a bit sick (it didn't before, I dunno what changed). That thing where my weak eye stopped going off-kilter may be temporary, I hafta heal for at least three months to see if it's going to stay like that. Fingers crossed but I don't feel hopeful.

Patreon is still being stupid. If I would like to confirm I'm over 18 with a nongovernmental ID, they'd like FOUR of them that meet specific requirements and that seems unreasonable. I was abstaining due to not wanting to give a 3rd party my personal data in the first place. If I'd like to stop being 18+, I need to submit my page for approval. It's not worth it to me for three Patrons, two of whom will probably join again if I make a new account. I'm not sure if I'm going to stick with Patreon, but after payments come in (and go out) on December 1st, I'm cashing out and shutting it down. I'll make something new when I'm ready to come back with more content.

I have six more instalments ready to go, and I intend to start posting them without art. I'll put the roughs up for DL on the Patreon tonight, if anyone's interested, and text will go live at some point tomorrow.

So, my few Patrons, you'll be charged on the 1st like usual, and then it should stop. Make sure, because we're going to close down our American bank account and if you pay more money it's not going to me.

I gotta give my eyes a full year to see if light tolerance and dryness will improve. I should get to the point where I can draw... soonish? I have glasses and new eye drops to try. But, again, the doc rushed me out of the office in like, five minutes, so this isn't a high standard of care at the moment.

I got more doctor stuff on Wednesday, and more later in the month. It's gonna be kinda exhausting. I wanted to make cookies and put up some decorations, ya know? But I don't have it in me yet. New instalment will go up tomorrow, though, because I am determined and annoyed, and I'll leave some update info at the Patreon too.

[siltslut]

Tell me about some upcoming games/movies/podcasts/whatever you are excited for.

I feel like we are early enough in the year that nothing has come out just yet, but we are about to get some new media out soonish.

there’s honestly not a ton this year. when it comes to movies nothing is catching my eye yet but with last year being filled with great movies and the writers strike that’s kinda bound to happen and i think 2025 will have some pretty good stuff. i’m obviously excited for the rest of the silt verses and red valley season 3, and listening to tmagp while it comes out has been really fun. i guess fionna & cake and arcane both get season 2s this year so that should be fun even if they take a while to be released

[icharchivist]

Heey! Is there anything time sensitive going on in GBF right now/this month? I'm planning to give it a try as a beginner as soon as some big event drops haha

Oooh hello!! Welcome to the game if you end up trying it out!

Starting December 15 is Free Pull Season! for now it will be one solo free pull a day, but usually Free Pull Seasons morph into "one 10 pull a day" and then we get a roulette (which is "randomly between 10 to 100 pulls per day" (though higher pulls are obviously harder to get), and it should be until the end of December

so, if you want to start playing the game, definitely take advantage of the Free Pull Seasons!

(the end-of-year Granblue Festival will also happen soonish, during Christmas iirc, and it usually means getting a lot of major rewards in game right after the event - so you probably want to have an account before the Festival happens)

in term of events this is the planning this month:

(follow @granblue_en to really be up to date with everything)

Currently ongoing is a story event. It's a nice whodunit if you want to give it a try, otherwise you can skip it to save it into your journal and still get ~600 crystals from it at least (storyevents are limited and will no longer be accessible once the event is over unless you went through it, either by reading or skipping it. Until it gets added to the side stories in a few years at least. thus the advice.)

Exo Ifrit and Proving Grounds are usually for more experienced players, i wouldn't call those really beginner friendly, so you don't really have to worry about those events and can focus on other in-game stuff (though as you can see, free pull season start right in the middle of Proving Grounds)

Note that what i call "Free Pull season" mostly bc it's when we get the Free Pulls is actually "Half Off Campaign": it comes with daily rewards, a boost in xp gain, half-off from AP/EP/quest mats for hosting/starting quests, drops boost, & some more miscellaneous things that mostly matters for experienced players.

(also Holiday season is starting meaning new Holiday limited units are dropping as well if you want to try your luck at those)

Divine Generals Assembly rerun is a story event that already happened in the past but is getting, well, a rerun. Like any story event, if you don't intend to read it just yet, it's good to skip it so you have it in your journal later and still get the rewards from it. It's a laidback/Slice of Life event event about a group of character called the Divine General going to a holiday ressorts to relax.

Last is the Story Event, still a mystery for everyone.

Not announced yet but there should also be a New Year event around New Year when we get there.

Else, the Festival is incoming, which will be a massive stream on a few days, including seiyuu shows and games, news, unit reveals, concert, cosplay shows, and so on. Always worth a watch if invested!

so basically: if you want to start playing granblue as a beginner/casual i'd say, at least make an account before December 15th and log in every day to start getting the daily rewards that will come with the campaign, as well as the free pulls.

There's 3 story events this month, one currently ongoing, if you don't want to miss them.

And two Challenge events that you can skip on as a beginner for now.

hope it helps! ;D

[lost-pages-rpg]

Devlog #1: Dialogue

One of my main goals when starting this project was to use it as a learning opportunity (and it got me a job, so hey, I guess it worked)! To that end, I was going to avoid using plugins or pre-made things wherever possible. But as I got in to it, I identified a few things that would be too much of a pain to do 100% from scratch: Saving, Enemy Pathfinding and a Dialogue system. Let's talk about the dialogue system!

The most important feature of the dialogue for this game was arbitrary branching paths. The player should be able to answer questions with a few options, and talking to one NPC shouldn't always give the same responses. I did code something that did that from scratch but… coming up with a convenient way of actually authoring the dialogue itself was a bit too time-consuming, so I ended up adapting YarnSpinner

YarnSpinner provides an easy to read scripting language and code to parse that and hook the results in to Unity components that let me actually display it all line by line!

They already had a really great Unity package I could import, but I would soon find that (like everything else in The Lost pages), the randomness of it all made things a bit trickier.

The main issue was that YarnSpinner assumed I could just set up everything beforehand in the scene. In reality, the scene view and inspectors are kind of useless in my project, everything is randomly generated, so scenes are largely empty! In my case, where nothing can be assumed ahead of time, I need to add the yarn script for each NPC/sign/whatever on the fly when the user interacts with them, then make sure to run the right dialogue node. Here's the component from yarnSpinner with it's conspicuously empty list of scripts to use:

The first part (adding the script) was easy enough, just needed to add a way to check if it was already added… running the first node however, was the first place I ended up introducing some serious jank. Have a look at my script to find that first node:

Of course, with this method, I needed unique names for the first nodes of each script. I (kind of) enforced this with a custom inspector that expects the start node to share the name of the parent object (So NPC Bob's dialogue will have a start node "Bob"). Let me know if you want to hear more about custom inspectors/Unity editor scripting! I actually spent way too much time on this project making custom inspectors so it'd be convenient and foolproof to work on this project.. as thought I wasn't just doing it all myself LOL

After all that was sorted out, I just needed to add some extra features like adjustable text speed, pausing player/NPC movement during dialogue, and some custom commands to do stuff like open up a shop.

Although I think a new dialogue feature may be coming soonish: Animal Crossing style noises for character speech! I know it's not necessary, but I really love when games have that sooo I might just have to 😉

[bvannn]

Weekly Update December 15, 2023

Finals week is done. I’m still worried about the one class but I’ve done everything I can. Next week I have some doctor appointments but otherwise am good to rest up and hopefully get more work done. I have tonight and tomorrow morning also before I have to do a long drive, so maybe I’ll finish off some other projects.

TRGA: 1-4 Tim’s tweens are done, and I have what I think is a faster strategy for tweens now as well, so all that should be moving faster. I just need to do Tim’s face and clean up his joints and he should be good for the shot, I can make and add in props and I’ll post the wip. I’m planning to do backgrounds all in one go at the end so they stay consistent from shot to shot, and sketch lines as well. I’ll probably do some of the more tedious work (exporting and reimporting sketch lines, and cleanup) in the evenings and the more brain intensive work like props during real free time.

Still chipping away at late drawing prompts. I got the rest of the Inktober set sketched, I’m nearing the ‘easy’ prompts for the cringe set, and the gore set I just haven’t had motivation for but I can maybe try to finish that one off in the next few days. Also haven’t gotten comic thumbnail stuff done since like 2 weeks ago but I might get cracking at that in the car ride tomorrow, or definitely after, there’s a lot more interest in my OCs than I thought so I really should be prioritizing that higher.

Music: real close on the one song, and recorded pieces for a piano arrangement of another thing. I wanted to doll it up with real instruments, and maybe I still will but I can also do a just piano version and throw that out. The main original I’m working on is close to done instrumentally, I was going to record the breakdown tonight but I’m a bit tired because I decided to do some chores, so maybe it’ll be tomorrow or maybe I will do it tonight. Also started poking around Melodies for a second song before realizing my retro sound chip plug-in set is a pain in the neck and will only play one note at a time so I need like 5 or 6 layers to do what I want and also the gameboy chip has hella delay for some reason. Not unfixable but annoying. Theoretically I should be moving to a new computer soonish so maybe I can try out some voice synths for the main song I’m working on since I don’t think I can sing.

I’m kinda hitting that tiredness wall but I should hopefully be able to get some rest in the coming week, get some stuff together to post, and be nice and ready. I should also mention I have a surgery coming up too which should take me out of commission for some time, idk how long, doesn’t sound very long though, at least not as long as the last one. That’s not until the week of christmas though so I should still be good to do stuff until then. Maybe I’ll draw tonight, maybe I won’t since it’s already late. I’ve been getting weird bouts of restlessness where I just decide to do a bunch of things at once, but I think I already got one when I decided to do chores. Oh well always tomorrow.

[inventors-fair]

Building Around Them: Named Common Winners ~

Congratulations to @bread-into-toast​, @genericaura​, and @spooky-bard​ for winning this week’s contest!

@bread-into-toast​ — Mighty Puffbonder

There might be a list of “creatures we feel bad casting a removal spell on” somewhere out there, and congrats, you’ve added another one. Checking Ikoria, there actually aren’t a whole lot of creatures that would be affected by this, since unlike Zirda, you have to control the creatures; but this isn’t really a card made strictly for deck smoothness and there could be a lot more on a return to Ikoria that could interact with it, so heck, there you do. Frankly, I think that you could have even put the Brushwagg onto the battlefield! But I get ahead of myself.

This card was made for a greater environment around it and at the same time affects limited in a fun, playable way. You get the kid a Brushwagg, then you pump the Brushwagg, then you give the mouse a cookie, or something like that. Boom, totally works! There might be an incredible amount of Brushwaggs going around, and with an R/G trample build, there’s lots more to consider than just funny-creature-go-brr. I think this card’s cute, great, good for limited, fun to play with in constructed, and really speaks to me.

@genericaura​ — Breadmancer’s Oven

I think all the pieces of this come together quite well, like a recipe for gingerbread, minus the animation. I’ll also start off with the fact that until now, I didn’t notice the wording bump, so just FYI, after searching for Gingerbrute, the text should read: “...a card named Gingerbrute, put it into your hand, then shuffle.” Commas and all. But considering that Gingerbrute is—well, actually a good card, this card just becomes that much better. The name could use some work, but I’m really enthralled with the mechanics and feelings moreso. Hence why it’s here.

Hasty payoffs, for one, are awesome, and the last trigger is really funny to me in limited but also plays off of the Food aspect well. You eat a magical pie, and there you go, you have the energy to go out into battle! That alone from a mechanical perspective makes food relevant in other cases outside the BG archetype, where maybe it didn’t see much support, but it doesn’t have to, because you’re also playing off of other life-gain questions. This card has nothing to do with its limited archetypes and frankly I think that’s fine. It would never happen as long as Knights need a niche, but sooooo whaaaat. It’s FUN. Swinging in with a nigh-unblockable 3/1 Gingerbrute is also fun but in a way that’s only fun for you. Which counts.

@spooky-bard​ — Gnarl Haunt

What IS tapping at the window. It’s ya boy, the monstrosity! This card is elegant in a number of ways. The searching for the flashback, the minor deck-thinning that leads to searching that leads to graveyard-filling, the defensive capabilities if you play this untapped in the late-game to get a creature off of it afterwards then hold back a blocker—you get the idea. Really darn good. Most people aren’t going to snap up the Taps, but if you can get one of these or somehow two, it makes Tapping at the Window that much better.

Yeah, no, it’s just a great uncommon! The name’s fantastic, too. It’s self-evident that the other side of the window tells all the story that you need to tell, right? Innistrad’s tree spirits may just be trees to some, but this one’s ready for vengeance. I’m trying to find a way to flavorfully justify the deathtouch, but I guess it’s just the fact that once things get haunted, it gets deadlier, maybe. It doesn’t really need that justification, who am I kidding. The card’s just plain nice as it stands and that’s what matters. Clearly you understand what makes these limited interactions fun. Oh! Ha, imagine if a new player opens a booster, they see the Tapping, and then they see this and have the moment of “Lol I knew it wasn’t just a tree.” Pretty great stuff.

Runners soonish, commentary later! Congrats again, folks. @abelzumi​

[mock-arts]

General update on where I’m at art wise under the cut! And energy-to-make-art wise too I guess (some minor tw for very general discussion of like. Current events and life stuff.) I promise I’ll be back to mostly art on this blog soonish.

So, here’s what the year is looking like for me right now. I mentioned last week that I’m in the middle of a stretch of big bang art. Well, I’m really smack dab in the middle of the Star Wars big bang — I’ve got 2 or 3 pieces to do over the next three weeks, still, but I’ve already got 4 done that will be posting up across June, and I’m pretty hype to share those, and see the fics go up.

I’ve also just recently matched up with some really dope authors with some fics taking some big swings that are verrrry interesting, in dinluke and sandman bangs. I’m thinking I’ll get to do some very dope art for those.

There’s like. One more bang in 4Q I’m sort of thinking about (signed up to pinch hit only for now) and a couple zines I’m eyeing, but I’m like. Trying to be somewhat better about saying no to myself lmao. I did also have the crazy three AM thought “I should make a fan comic” but like. I know how long that takes so. Probably not lmao. I’m sort of waffling if I want to continue signing up for so many bangs, given the givens, (my heart says yes but my brain says “really?”) so if I do tone it down, maybe next year?

Oh and not art exactly, but I’ve also been working on a suite of tools for big bang moderators. I’ve made a spreadsheet that emails people for you and a spreadsheet that generates a google doc. The use cases here are sending out claim match emails and generating summary documents for claims. Next on my to do list is a spreadsheet that generates a google form, for mods who want their artists to rank every fic for claims. Once I get that done I’ll bundle them up with some advice maybe. If the ones I have complete sound like something you could use now though, let me know over DMs.

I just hope my energy comes back from the war lol. I churned out the first 3 pieces for the swbb really fast, but between a couple really difficult weeks at work, my trainee sucking the life out of me (and my weekends. I’m about to murder her), and a slew of bad news, I’m like. Man what puppy did I kick.

I wrote up my venty post yesterday and then there was a shooting like 5 minutes from my place and when I called my mom to tell her I was safe I got told my aunt had started having seizures after a head injury and was just coming off a ventilator. The hits just keep coming lol.

Despite all that the biggest drain is actually my trainee. I’ve worked two weekends in a row covering for her now. That’s my art making time.

[tuulikannel]

A little snippet (well, about 1000 words) from the next chapter of Caught Between (which will come out, uh, hopefully soonish, but no promises... >_> I just wanted to share this part right away. ^^)

Some background info: Sai's not a ghost but a Real Kid here, same age as Hikaru. They're dating and they've just started high school here. This part... is going to have some guest stars. ^^ tw for homophobes >_>

One day Sai was going to meet Hikaru after school. As he approached the gate he saw the boy waiting there together with a blond-haired guy he didn’t know. They were talking about something excitedly and didn’t notice Sai at all.

Sai sneaked up behind them and threw his arms around Hikaru, pulling the boy close. “Hi!”

Hikaru gave a little yelp but laughed then and turned to return the hug. “Hello!”

“Sorry about interrupting,” Sai said with a grin. “I couldn’t resist. What were you talking about?” He glanced curiously at the other boy.

“Oh, just, computer games,” Hikaru said. “This is Deshi, my classmate. He’s got a friend in your school too. And this is Sai, I told you about him.”

“Hi!” Sai said happily and they exchanged nods. He was about to go on when he happened to notice a group students leaving the school, and the looks they were giving him. Suddenly self-conscious, he took a step away from Hikaru, letting the boy’s arm fall down from his shoulder.

“Huh?” Hikaru said, sensing that something was off. He shot a frowning look at the other students. “What the…” Sai squeezed his arm a little, trying to pull him away, but it was already too late. Hikaru’s chin rose and he shot a defiant glare at the others. “You’ve got a problem?”

A moment it seemed they were going to ignore him, but then one of the girls stopped and spun around. “Indeed we do,” she all but spat out. “I truly don’t care what you do at your home, but please keep that stuff away from school. Right in the front of the main gate too, where anyone can see! That’s shameless!” Her friends around her, two boys and two girls, were all nodding.

“Uh, aren’t you overreacting a bit,” Deshi tried to put in, while Sai had to physically hold Hikaru back. “They just hugged, that’s not…”

“As if a gaijin would understand,” the girl said, her voice full of contempt.

“I’m… actually half-Japanese…” Deshi said hesitantly.

She rolled her eyes. “Okama and haafu, isn’t that perfect. Keep your perversions to yourselves!”

“Huh, perversions? What’s this about perversions?” a new voice put in.

Sai glanced behind and had an immediate flashback of Kaga – an older student with hair just as blatantly red and at the very least the same amount of confidence in his stance was watching them curiously, one eyebrow raised.

There was a moment’s silence. “Those two,” the girl said then, nodding at Hikaru and Sai. “They… are a couple.” She said the last word as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Oh?” The redhead gave them a grin. “Isn’t that sweet!”

The girl was nodding. “Yes, it’s… wait, what?”

“Such a cute couple too!” he went on happily. “So they’re not into girls, huh? Is that why you’re so mad?” He glanced at her. “I feel you, girl. But hey, if you’re determined enough, maybe you can convince them to experiment a bit.” He winked at Sai and Hikaru. “Being bi has it’s perks, I can tell you, and honestly, the more the merrier, if you ask me!”

This time silence lasted even longer. “Staa-ag,” Deshi groaned into it, a hand on his forehead.

“What?” The redhead gave a shrug. “I’m just speaking facts.”

“In any case,” the girl said, sounding uncertain, “this kind of shameless behavior should not occur right in front—”

“What kind of shameless behavior?” Stag put in. “C’mon, give me the juicy details!”

“They hugged,” Deshi said with a sigh, and he burst into laughter.

“Seriously? That’s what got your panties in a twist?”

The girl looked like she didn’t know what to say, and one of the boys gallantly came to her aid.

“This is a reputable school. It’s one thing to be a perv but to act…”

“Oh, sweetie,” Stag said with a sigh and threw an arm over his shoulder and the other arm over hers. “You’re so innocent. Trust me, if there’s anyone who’s gonna ruin the reputation of this school, it’s not those two cutiepies, it’s little old me.” He grinned and pulled them a bit closer. “And here’s the secret, stuff like that is fun. So if you ever feel like widening your horizons, I can give you lessons. Privately or all at… hey!”

The two had pulled themselves free and were hurrying away with their friends. “Poor fools,” Stag said, sighing as he watched after them. “Maybe they’ll learn some day.”

“Stag,” Deshi said, sounding exasperated. “You’ve been one week in this school. Don’t get yourself expelled right away.”

Stag just laughed at his pained expression.

“Umm,” Sai started, feeling like he had been following some weird play being enacted in front of him, “thanks…?”

“No problem!” Stag waved his thanks aside. “So you’re this famous deviant everyone’s talking about! You sure are cute, though. Hey, you two wouldn’t be interested in…”

“Stag, stop!” Deshi whacked at him, while Sai was still blinking both at having been called cute and the fact ‘everyone’ was apparently talking about him. “Just, stop!”

“I was just asking!”

Hikaru had moved closer to Sai and placed a hand on his shoulder, somewhat possessively.

“The answer’s no,” he grunted, and Stag sighed.

“Okay, okay, just asking, like I said! Seriously, I’m not trying to steal him a way or anything!”

They were getting glances from other students leaving the school, and Sai figured it might have be best for them to leave. They ended up hanging together, all four, and though Hikaru remained a little suspicious of Stag and his intentions, they all did become pretty good friends.

“Let me know if anyone bothers you at school,” Stag said when they parted. “Students or teachers,” he grinned, and there was something wolfish about it, “I’ll have my ways to deal with them.”

I guess I need to have an intimidating redhead in any school I go to, Sai thought to himself, a little amused. Still, it was also a little relieving to know he had one sure ally here. Too bad Stag was two years older… but hopefully there’d be no need for any extra aid after the first year.

Deshi and Stag are © @solarsavoy

[outerbankies]

new light part 12: through my veins — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: he’s had your heart for as long as you can remember; you’re always going to find your way back to rafe cameron.

pairing: rafe x reader

warnings: alc and swearing of course

a/n: omg hi hello, i’m actually so sad posting this 😭 so proud of this fic and so happy in the little community we've created to talk about it. i really hope you guys like this ending! epilogue should be coming soonish & then i have some blurbs and stuff to start posting after that. plus a new rafe series in a bit!!! in the meatime, send me asks on anything you wanna know or see between these two: headcanons, blurbs, etc. thanks for everything new light besties 👼

my writing

what do i do with all of this love that’s running through my veins for you?

“What made you want more time?”

Rafe’s holding a hand out to help you up when you finally come to slip back into his bed after your shared shower, one of his old long sleeves freshly pulled over your torso, as if smelling like his body wash wasn't cozy enough.

(He had looked at you in warning when you took it off the hanger, but you just shrugged. “You were the one that got my sweater all wet.” “You came onto me when I was soaking wet, baby.”)

“Ah,” you sigh, waiting for this question, settling in beside him where he’s already propped up against the headboard. Rafe pats the spot on his chest where you usually lay your head, but you just stay put where you’re facing him with your legs tucked under you, a hand resting on his thigh over his shorts. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“For what? Waiting?” he asks, a ringed knuckle bumping into the bottom of your chin so you look at him. “Of course. You don’t have to thank me.”

“Just needed to think.”

“About what, sweetheart?”

“I dunno. I guess… if I needed any more reassurances.”

Rafe nods slowly. “And… do you?”

You bite your lip, looking down as you slip a finger under his shorts to feel the soft hair under the fabric. You knew you two were on the same page about where this was going, but that didn't make talking about everything that led up to your breakup any easier.

Rafe gently places his hand over yours, making you look up at where he’s been awaiting your reply. You lean over him immediately, your thumb pressing into the furrow between his brows until his face relaxes again. “I trust you with your dad, Rafe. He’s your dad.”

Rafe sighs, head falling back into the wall behind his bed. “I have so much to tell you.”

You shift closer to him, legs pressing into his side. “What is it?”

“The first thing you have to know is it wasn’t for you. Well, it kind of was, but it’s something I’ve been thinking of for a long time—something I’ve been denying to myself for years, honestly.”

“Rafe, what happened? What did you do?”

“Alright. In the interest of honesty,” he says, finally looking back down at you. You nod in encouragement. “I told him I’d walk.”

Warmth blooms across your skin, spreading from your neck to your shoulders, down your back, and your entire body as you move even closer to him, close to sitting on him at this point. “You’d… walk?”

“Yeah. Like,” he closes his eyes, squeezes one of your hands where they rest between his own, and lets out another long breath. “From the business.”

You knew what he was going to say, but you still have to intentionally resist letting your mouth fall open in shock at actually hearing the words come out of his mouth. “Rafe.”

He's quickly slipping into panic mode, sitting up straighter.

“Okay, I know you hate feeling like this, but I promise. It wasn’t just you—it was everything. And I-I don’t think he’s gonna call my bluff—but I just needed him to know that I’m serious. I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did, but. I dunno, if I didn’t get through to him, I’ll figure it out from there. I promise,” he repeats.

You lean forward, your arms snaking around his neck as you tug him into a tight hug, kissing the side of his head for good measure. “I’m so proud of you.”

“You’re not mad?” he asks, his hands pressing into your back and pulling you in impossibly close.

“No, Rafe. I‘ve just been worried about you,” you say, leaning back, hand coming to stroke over his cheek. “I need you to talk to me about him more, yeah? I wanna help you when you need it.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“I can’t believe you talked to him though, Rafe,” you say, sinking into him further, pressing your warm cheek into his after you plant another kiss on his temple. “We weren’t even together.”

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, a hand toying with the ring on your left middle finger once you settle back on your haunches. “I dunno, kinda banked on the fact you’d find your way back to me. And even if you didn’t… it’s just been too long letting him control my entire life. So, even if you were done with me...”

“Rafe,” you whisper. “Never.”

“Well, I’m trying this new thing where I don’t doubt myself when it comes to us,” he says, smiling a little when your hand grabs his chin. “Faking it ’til I make it, et cetera. But either way, no regrets. Not with my dad at least.”

You smile then, finally laying your head on his chest where he originally wanted you to. “I’m really proud of you—I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t. It was a long time coming, honestly,” he says, tilting your chin up again. Rafe’s blue eyes have barely lost your gaze since you laid back down—since you came over, really. “Guess I just needed the right reason.”

“Ah!” you squeal, hand lightly swatting his chest. “Cameron, I’m not used to you saying shit like that to me anymore.”

“Get re-used to it. You’re not getting rid of me this time.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Actually, you—”

Rafe leans in and kisses you again, shifting you back underneath him and making his way down your neck, revisiting some the marks he already left, well on his way to making a new one until you push him away.

“So, what are you—are you working for your dad next year? Or your grandpa? Actually, wait—never mind,” he shakes his head, a hand coming to rest over your stomach, nudged underneath your shirt. “Whenever you want to tell me is fine.”

He looks away guiltily, eyes coming back to yours after a second of your silence.

“You’re so fucking cute,” you gush, tugging his head down for another kiss. “I’m still gonna work for Agnes, just as her assistant.”

Rafe pulls back abruptly, eyes surveying your face. “Like with her author stuff?”

He pulls you into a sitting position, pride barely contained on his face. “Yeah, uh, she just needs someone to handle the business side of things while she’s gone for the year, and. She said I can do it from anywhere, so…”

“Wait—where are they going?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp. “I haven’t even told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Okay, so get this,” you say, smiling when Rafe digs his head into your stomach as you lay back down, looking up at you with a matching smile. You get lost in it for a second, in the surreal feeling of having him back in your arms. It might bring some stray tears to your eyes if you let it, but you just clear your throat, rubbing a hand through his hair and blinking a few times. “They’re going on like, a year-long sailing thing. Just them and the boys.”

He raises his eyebrows. “And they don’t want you to come?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p.’ “Not that I would’ve, and they know that. But, it’s like a family adventure. I dunno, guess the baby thing kinda inspired this… newly involved parenting endeavor.”

“Wow,” he says, nodding. “That is the most Agnes and Beau thing I have ever heard.”

“Right?”

Rafe rolls his eyes in good nature, but then something more serious settles into his features. “So, you can work from anywhere, and you wanna come back here?”

You nod immediately, knowing where his head's at. “At least for a bit. I mean—I told my grandpa I’d do some editorial stuff for the foundation, too. Time for big girl jobs.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Rafe says, army crawling up the bed to plant a long kiss on your lips. “That’s amazing, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks heat up, and you half-heartedly push him off. “Rafe, it’s basically just a glorified PA job, and I’m salaried now, which is cool, but—”

“No, stop,” he says. “Don’t do that. You’re so cool—look at you, in your field and everything.”

“In my field and everything,” you laugh, a little wistful thinking about your future that’s getting closer and closer each day. Whatever happens, at least now you can visualize Rafe by your side through it all. You don't think you ever really stopped.

“Hey,” Rafe says, imploring you to look over at him from where you’d found a spot on the ceiling. “You’re really gonna miss ‘em—aren’t you?”

He doesn’t even say who he means, but you groan anyway, hands falling from his hair when you think about saying bye to the kids. “We literally can’t talk about that until next summer, or I will have a break down.”

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Rafe reassures, pushing some hair out of your face.

“Look at you, already back in nice, caring boyfriend mode,” you say, laughing lightly.

“Hey,” he protests. “I’ve always been nice to you. And I’ve always cared about you.”

“‘Always been mine, yeah?’” you tease, repeating his words from earlier. Rafe doesn’t blush, doesn’t duck his head, just bites his lip in consideration as he looks at you.

“More or less. You?”

“More or less.”

—

“C’mon,” you urge from your spot on the counter, swinging one of your legs out to emphasize your point. “You know you wanna go, don’t pretend you don’t.”

Rafe gives you a glare from where he’s standing at the coffee machine across his parents’ kitchen, his freshly washed hair slightly fluffy on his head where it’d now dried. “I know I’d rather just take you back upstairs until we both have to leave on Sunday.”

You cross your legs at his words, grateful his back is turned again so he can’t see how affected you were. “I just can’t believe I’m the one trying to convince you to go out. Are you joking right now?”

“It’s because you’re playing this all wrong, baby. Look—we’re together, in the same city, and nobody knows about it but us. It’s just like when we first went out. We had so much fun before everyone came home last year.”

Your head tilts at that, recalling the beginning of the summer. “Rafe, that was like a week. We went on one date and then you macked on me at the pool.”

He looks over his shoulder, smirking.

“Yeah. You were pretty easy for me, weren’t you?” he teases, pulling out two mugs for the coffee when it’s done brewing. You zone out momentarily, thinking about that time—thinking about how fun and warm and exciting it all was for a bit—you’d cringe reading your texts together now, you’re sure of it. Just two friends, finally sure that it was worth it to at least try and be something more, still flirting like the nervous teenagers you used to be. Probably clued into where your mind had wandered as he gazes at you from across the room, Rafe still takes your silence as his victory. “That’s what I thought.”

“I just think it’d be fun. And Kelce worked so hard,” you remind him. “Please?”

“Y/n,” he whines like a boy, opening the fridge for milk. You can hear his resolve waning at your plea, a far cry from where he’d immediately said ‘no’ as soon as you brought the idea up as he was lifting you onto the kitchen counter, punctuating his outright rejection with a kiss. You just need to push him that last bit further.

“Fine. Maybe I’ll ask Griffin to come with me. He was already in my DMs last night.”

Rafe immediately turns to look back at you. “He was what?”

You shrug, making air quotes and imitating his obnoxious voice as best you can. “‘Heard you and RC called it quits, sorry.’”

“He—ha,” Rafe laughs, slamming the fridge door shut a little forcefully. He looks at you apologetically when he realizes the milk he has on hand isn’t the kind you normally use, which he used to keep for you at his parents’ house. “Of course he did. I'm sure he's just so, so sorry.”

“Your sister’s friend hit on me too. I’m kind of a catch, you know,” you tease.

“When did—y’know what? No. I’ve been telling you this, Y/n/n,” he sighs. “Everybody wants you.”

You raise your eyebrows, wondering briefly if you should go where you’re about to go. “That’s a little rich, coming from Mr. ‘The Girls Are Here.’”

“Oh god,” he groans, pouring the milk in both mugs. “Not this.”

“You know, McCall was convinced it was this big scripted act between you and Graham. All to make me jealous,” you say, a small smile tugging on your lips.

“Wait, did it?” Rafe asks softly, looking up at you again.

You think back to that weekend with your friends in Big Bear, grin slipping off your face. You really tried your best to rally and have fun, and your friends were overly supportive. But you couldn’t compartmentalize Rafe as easily as they wanted you to, and you were pretty much lost to your thoughts the entire weekend, drunk crying one night and just heading up to bed early all the others. You knew better now, you’d never be able to compartmentalize the boy who’d made his home in your heart years ago. “No. It just made me sad.”

“I hate that,” Rafe says, placing both hands on the kitchen counter and leaning forward. “Did you cry?”

Your lips tuck into your teeth, and you shrug even though he’s not facing you. “I mean… ‘course I cried, Rafe.”

He sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You hop down from where you’re perched on the counter then, coming to stand behind him, arms encircling his waist and squeezing him tight.

“Well, it’s gonna happen. Because I love you and I care about you—and I’m a crier. So I’m probably gonna cry over you a few times. And you don’t get to break up with me over that,” you say.

Rafe sighs again, dropping his head to hand between his tense shoulders. You loosen your arms just enough to let him turn around and look at you, going with him when he leans up against the counter behind him. “Or anything else.”

“Nothing else?”

“No. Never again,” he promises.

Rafe trails you through the kitchen and out to his porch swing, the two of you settling in the mid-morning light, him using one foot on the ground to push you both back and forth steadily. You can’t stop staring at him, touching him wherever you can, just taking him in like something that’ll disappear again if you look away. But you know he won’t, not ever again. He sinks further into the seat, lazily rolling his head over to look at you after a bit of silence.

“Alright. What are you wearing tonight?”

You smile big, leaning in to kiss him a few times, giggling as he sets both of your mugs on the ground below you to properly plant one on you.

“Hm,” you wonder, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Now that we’re going together, I actually have no idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“The dress I had in mind was for the specific scenario in which I somehow showed up to this thing by myself and you happened to show up, too. Or see it on social. Because McCall is convinced you’d be checking everyone’s stories for me either way,” you recite, the way your roommate had coached you in the car ride to the airport.

“First of all, Y/l/n. There was no way in hell I was going to go to that shit on my own unless Kelce or Top parent-trapped us into it. Which I’m sure they were planning,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“They wouldn’t actually do that, would they?”

He cocks his head to the side, looking out over the water. “I can’t say for sure—I told them not to. I wanted you to feel ready, like you could come to me on your own.”

“Well that worked,” you laugh, thinking about that fated grocery store trip, briefly wondering how you would’ve ever ended up back here if it weren’t for the right place and right time. But you and Rafe seem to be pretty formidable against that entire concept, if the track record of your relationship was anything to go by.

“It absolutely did, sweetheart. and the waiting always pays off, take it from me,” Rafe says. He anticipates you leaning in to kiss him, cradling your face with a steady hand until you’re both satisfied again.

You settle back into his side, bent legs nudging into his lap. “I guess we’ll never know what they were cooking up since we can go together now.”

Rafe thinks about it for a second, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Which dress did you have in mind?”

“You don’t know it.”

He looks down at you, eyes narrowed in offense. “I know them all. Including the five newest additions.”

Rafe says it so proudly and surely, and you think back to the dresses where they hang in your closet at your college apartment. You hadn’t had anything to wear them too, even if Davis had begged you to put on the black one when you came to one of his symposiums. Neither of your roommates had shut up about them since they made you do a fashion show the day the box came. And they both demanded invites to next year's Midsummers.

But no matter how many opportunities came your way, something didn’t feel right, like you should be waiting until you were on Rafe's arm to wear them. That, and that you needed to take them to your seamstress to see what she could do with all of that extra fabric that would come off the bottom when she hemmed them. You had an ideas.

But you still have to knock Rafe down a few pegs.

“Baby, it’s so cute you think I haven’t bought a new dress in six weeks.”

“Ah!” The arm around your shoulders shakes your body lightly. “Stop saying six weeks. Tell me about the dress.”

“I borrowed it from McCall before I left.”

He nods his head for a second, and you feel him getting shifty underneath you. “Well, what color is it?”

“Black. It’s super cute, promise.”

He nods, reaching down for his coffee to take a long sip. “M’sure it is. Wear it. But I wanna match and you’re not leaving my side, deal? I know for a fact Griffin is coming.”

“Deal.”

Rafe rocks the two of you for a little again before sighing, pulling you in closer when he feels you shiver from the winter chill. “Alright. Speaking of McCall…”

“Yep,” you nod, devilish grin already pulling on your lips. You seriously couldn’t wait to tell your friends about you and Rafe; your phone was left upstairs in Rafe’s bedroom but you could guess that by now you’d have an onslaught of messages from Davis asking how it all went. You’d let them all sweat for a bit longer, but you were already looking forward to McCall’s eye roll.

“It’s gonna be a shit ton of groveling with her and Davis, isn’t it?” Rafe asks, looking slightly amused, slightly terrified.

“McCall? Definitely. Davis will be fine,” you say.

“Figured as much. What about Wren and Delilah?”

“Oh, Wren’s been kicking my ass over this,” you sigh. “Almost as bad as Kelce, not even kidding.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? He seemed kinda pissed at me on the phone that one weekend.”

You shrug, leaning forward for your coffee again, Rafe’s free hand resting on your waist to steady you while you bend over. “Wren’s just a big softie. Like you.”

He ruffles your hair a little, rolling his eyes. “And what do we think about Kelce?”

“Relieved,” you say, then think about it for a little longer. “Probably? Maybe a little annoyed.”

“Yeah, think so. Does he even know we’ve been talking? I didn’t tell him.”

You cringe, looking away and back out at the water. “I definitely did.”

“Of course you did. Don’t know why I even asked,” Rafe says. You kiss the taste of coffee off of his lips until you’re forgiven, which isn’t long. It usually never is, but it especially isn’t now.

A thought comes to mind, causing you to shift to look at him fully with excitement in your eyes. “Who gets to tell Topper about the yacht charter?”

“Okay—what the fuck is up with that?” Rafe says, making you laugh suddenly. “Kid seriously won’t leave me alone about it.”

“You know what’s up,” you say.

Rafe furrows his eyebrows for a second until it clicks for him, recognition flashing across his face and a pleased chuckle coming from his lips. “Blythe?”

“It’s sweet of him, he’s so stressed out. We’re all invited, but that entire trip is for one girl and one girl only,” you say.

“Not for me. I’m taking my girl to St. Barts,” Rafe says, kissing your forehead.

You beam. “So now we have to get ready for that, and then I know my parents thought about bringing you out before the holidays, and then we can all fly back together, right? And I still wanna get out to Georgia by myself at some point. We have to do a do-over of your birthday, baby, oh my god, I left your gift in California—”

“Hey,” Rafe says, the arm stretched around the back of the bench reaching up to cradle the back of your head. “Let’s worry about all of that later, yeah?”

Your cheeks burn a little at your over-excitement, slinking further into your seat. “And what happened to ‘I’m a planner sweetheart?’”

Rafe takes both of your now empty mugs, setting them aside and pulling you closer once again. His hand reaches up, pushing your hair behind your shoulders, hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Right now, the only plan I care about is taking shape again, right in front of me. S’all I can ask for at this point, and I just want to thoroughly enjoy it for now. Fuck literally everything else.”

“Thoroughly?” you tease, the hand you have in the back of his hair dipping under the collar of his shirt, your nails scratching lightly again the soft skin, hands already falling back into the routine touches.

Rafe shivers. “Yes, fuck. So let’s please go back upstairs. Please. I gave you coffee, what more do you want from me?”

Your smart (albeit, slightly flustered) reply is wiped off of your lips as both of your heads turn in the direction of the back door. Your hands immediately fall from each other the moment you see Ward walking toward you, and you scoot back from Rafe just a little for good measure. He watches you distance yourself with a hurt expression on his face, but he doesn’t say anything as his dad approaches.

“Thought that was your car I saw in the driveway, Y/n,” Ward says, smiling as he looks between the two of you. “Good to see you home again.”

You resist the urge to shoot a look back over at Rafe, who you know must be just as confused as you at his father’s tone. You shouldn’t be at this point, because Ward was like every other Figure Eight dweller in that most of the pleasantries that came out of his mouth were fake; but the limited knowledge you have of Rafe’s conversation with him recently still causes you to be caught off guard at his kindness. “Yes, great to see you too, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah,” Ward says, laughing lightly. “You know it’s Ward.”

“Right. Sorry,” you say, finally looking over at Rafe. He’s staring straight at his dad, his eyebrows drawn, back straight.

“Don’t be,” Ward assures you, waving a hand. He clears his throat, looking between you and his son momentarily before he’s breaking into an awkward smile again. “Has Rafe invited you to our Thanksgiving dinner yet?”

You look back over at Rafe, who seems just as confused as you. “Uh, no, actually.”

“I didn’t…” Rafe trails off softly, speaking for the first time, looking from you back to his dad. “I didn’t know I was allowed to.”

Your cheeks burn and you suddenly find the wood of the swing very interesting, your eyes trained on it. Ward drops the act, taking a step closer to where you both sit on the porch swing.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, Y/n. And that’s completely on me, so I apologize. Rose and I would love to have you join dinner tomorrow if your family will allow it,” Ward says, his stare still piercing even as he stands before you, fully swallowing his pride. You would die to see the look on Rafe’s face as he says his next words. “If Rafe wants you here, so do I.”

You nod and thank him quietly, dazed as you tell him you’ll try to figure it out with your own family’s dinner while Rafe sits there silently. He pats Rafe lightly on the back of his neck before walking back inside, silence befalling the two of you until you’re alone again.

“Rafe,” you say. “What did you say to him?”

Rafe’s eyes are still narrowed as he looks over at you, a pensive look on his face. He scoffs, shaking his head. “I just told him, like… I had other options, but I—I don’t know. I didn’t expect… wow.”

“That was insane. Like a complete 180 from the last time I talked to your dad.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods. “I know. Me too.”

“It’s like you have him in the palm of your hand.”

He nods solemnly, his expression still fallen. “Yeah, guess so. A guilt trip is less of an uphill battle anyways.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” you shift closer, your knuckles checking his chin. “I’m here for you no matter what, alright? Whatever he tries to put you through, whatever you wanna do about it. I mean it.”

“I know,” he says, still looking lost in thought about his dad’s change of heart. You just continue looking at him stubbornly until you get a smile. “I know.”

“And if he throws you out on the street, you know I can take care of you, baby.”

“Stop. You know it’s supposed to be the other way around.”

—

Rafe takes one look at you when he arrives to take you to Kelce’s house for the pregame and immediately sighs. Well, no—he gives himself a second to glance over your ensemble, biting back a request for you to turn around for him seeing as you’re standing in your parents’ house. And then he snaps himself out of it, shaking his head, adjusting the bottle of wine for the pregame he’d snagged from his dad’s cellar in his hand, then sighs.

“Go change.”

“Rafe—what!” you gasp, looking down at your dress. “You said you wanted me to wear it.”

“I didn’t realize it was practically a tank top,” he counters, pushing your hair off of your shoulder to slip a finger under your dress strap. “You’re going to be freezing cold, baby girl.”

“Not if I drink myself a sweater,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him. He revels in the feeling of your nails pressing into the back of his scalp before he’s pushing you off of him, looking down at you like he knows what you’re doing.

“Please go change. Please,” he says. “Into an actual sweater.”

Your bottom lip juts out, and Rafe’s reflexes are coming back inhumanely fast because he immediately presses it back in with his thumb. “Are you sure that’s why you want me to change?”

He levels you with a look. “Y/n, you know if it was nice out I’d let you walk around in a bra. Everyone knows you’re mine.”

“You look good, by the way,” you say, kissing his chin then settling back onto your heels, looking him over in his black suit and shirt, what you’d picked out for him before you left Tannyhill that day. “Missed you.”

“Missed you. That was an extremely long—“ he pauses, checking his watch for dramatic effect “—five and a half hours that we just spent apart.”

“Too long.”

“We’re about to be across the country for two more weeks, sweetheart.”

“You ruined it,” you groan. “Can we go now?”

“No—Y/n/n, I’m serious. A long sleeve, at least,” he says. “Might even want some tights.”

Rafe can see you actively resisting the urge to stomp your foot. “Rafe—”

“Rafe, it’s good to see you, son.”

Rafe tears his eyes away from where you’re still pouting at him, making eye contact with your father over your shoulder.

He said it was good to see him, but Rafe takes one look at his face and knows that isn’t the entire story. You’re looking down at your shoes when he finally looks back to you, the two of you exchanging hurried whispers while your dad comes closer and closer.

“That thing about not telling your parents—that was just your mom, wasn’t it?”

“…yes.”

He gulps. “Okay. Shit. How long has he known?”

“Since the day after,” you say quietly.

Rafe curses under his breath.

“I… love you?”

Rafe’s reply is wiped off of his lips as your dad nears, and he’s standing up straight and extending a hand.

“Mr. Y/l/n, hello,” he greets. “It's good to see you as well—happy early Thanksgiving.”

“You too, you too,” he smiles, hands in his pockets. He looks between the two of you, smile dropping off of his face when he sees your outfit. “Y/n Y/m/n. It’s freezing outside.”

“Oh, not you, too,” you groan.

“Go change, I’m sure Rafe doesn’t want you hogging his jacket all night,” he says, tilting his head to gesture up the stairs.

“I’m gonna do that anyway,” you grumble, already starting toward the stairs. She’s not wrong, Rafe thinks. “I’ll be back down in five.”

Rafe wouldn’t dream of following you up the stairs knowing your father is home. The man can’t be stupid, you’re both adults, but Rafe would literally never. As far as your dad knew, Rafe had never even seen the second story of your house.

But this is the one time he’s tempted to just do it anyways, seek the comfort of your bed and your dog while you chatter to him from the closet, model for him your options of what else you could wear. Just so he doesn't have to face your father alone.

Your dad turns and walks toward his study, the two of you leaving Rafe standing in the foyer. He catches your gaze from the top of the stairs, where you’re smiling sweetly and holding up five fingers to indicate “five minutes.”

Realistically, Rafe knew it couldn’t be less than ten.

“Rafe, why don’t you come talk to me in my office while you wait on her?”

Rafe untucks his tail from between his legs long enough to follow your dad inside, setting the bottle of wine he’d picked specifically for you—a really expensive one, because fuck his dad, honestly—down on a table in your dad’s office.

This is one room of your house that he’d never been in before. He was never in his own dad’s office unless he was in trouble, but he doesn’t feel that same wave of anxiety overtake him as he looks around the room, seeing stacks of books instead of expensive statement pieces like the ones Rose had picked for his dad’s study. Pictures of the four of you lined the walls, in lieu of the numerous business awards and certificates that lined his dad’s.

“Alright. Rafe. You know I'm a straight shooter, so I’m gonna cut to the chase,” your dad says, cuffing his shirt sleeves. He leans back into his desk, crossing his arms. “I just need to know that you’re gonna take care of her.”

“Sir—”

“And not like that. She’s extremely bright, she’s figuring her life out but she’s going to be fine. But she doesn’t need a guy in her life making that even the tiniest bit harder on her.”

“Understood. Completely,” Rafe says, nodding up and down. And he means it. “I’d never.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” your dad says, looking partially satisfied. “I don’t wanna be that mean dad, so don’t make me be him, alright? My old man was like that with my sister, and it was hell for her.”

Rafe nods slowly, thinking about how his own father acts with his sisters, how he’s never once seen John B over at his house in anything less than a shirt Rafe is sure Sarah used her allowance to buy for him, accompanied by a pound of hair gel in his hair, always bouncing his leg nervously under every dinner table, hardly speaking unless spoken to.

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent,” your dad nods. “Alright. Then we’re good.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “That’s… okay. Awesome—er. Yes, excellent.”

Your dad raises his eyebrows, and Rafe sighs, shoulders deflating.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was just expecting way more—like, I’m not sure what she’s told you,” Rafe says, sighing. “It was basically this whole thing with my dad.”

“She did,” your dad nods, shrugging. “Not all of it, but. Enough I think.”

“She did?” Rafe says, in slight confusion.

“Look,” your dad sighs, shoulder checking Rafe on his way out of the study, handing him the bottle of wine on his way out. Rafe scurries after him. “Fathers are hard. But you’re a man now, Rafe, just like your dad. And you’re at the age where you’re gaining control over that kind of thing—what you do about it, how much you let it affect you and the other people you love.”

Rafe just nods as they keep walking together, a little taken aback. “Of course. You’re right.”

“So don’t let it affect you, alright?” he asks. And then he fixes Rafe with one more stare, a hand clapping down onto his shoulder, just a little roughly. “And don’t let it affect my daughter. Got it?”

“Absolutely. Crystal clear.”

“Thought so,” your dad smiles, patting him on the shoulder, a little lighter now. “On that note, another thing men do? Use the front door when they’re sneaking into their girlfriend’s parents' house at midnight.”

Your heels click against the hardwood as you come back down the stairs then, wearing a cream-colored sweater under your dress, looking every bit like the angel you are, sent at just the right time to rescue Rafe from the rest of this conversation that had really taken a turn.

Your dad bids the two of you a goodnight, making Rafe promise to get you home safe (loud enough for you to hear) and to think about what he said (under his breath, just for Rafe).

You just saunter up to Rafe, standing right in front of him, adjusting your hair and your bag, smiling when you look back up at him. “Happy?”

He tucks some hair behind your ear, his hand on your beck bringing you in close enough he can press his lips to your forehead. “Happy.”

So, so happy.

—

The two of you still arrive at Kelce’s fashionably late, only fifteen minutes before the party bus is supposed to pick you all up. You hadn't told anyone you were coming, let alone together. You didn't usually have a flair for the dramatic, but you figured with how much all of your friends had meddled the past few weeks, they deserved a shock.

“Are you ready for this? Because we’re going to be getting shit all night,” Rafe says, letting you use his arm to steady yourself as you walk up the steps of Kelce’s porch.

“Hm. Wonder what would’ve prevented that,” you say. Rafe gives you a deadpan look, but you detect a bit of uneasiness under it all. You kiss his cheek chastely. “I’m teasing. You were right, we weren’t handling it well.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’ll ream you for it later, RC. Don't worry,” you say, hand tugging him down for a kiss on the lips this time. “Good vibes, good vibes! We both look hot, all of our friends are in there, and we’re getting hammered. Let’s not waste any more time.”

“Yeah, we really gotta stop doing that, Y/l/n,” he agrees, adding a double meaning to your words for you. You didn’t even say it on purpose, but you tug him back down for a kiss anyway.

The two of you kiss in front of the door for just a little longer, Rafe finally letting you pull off once you murmur out the time.

“Alright. Here we go,” Rafe says, hand freezing on the doorknob, glancing back at you. “You’re sure?”

You just nod, crowding up behind him while he opens the door.

Music and shouts and laughter immediately pour out of the house. Your hand grips the back of Rafe's jacket when you notice it's Topper standing in the entryway, Blythe on his arm. He sees Rafe first, brown eyes immediately shifting into concern.

“Dude, I didn’t think you’d make it,” he says in surprise, immediately bringing him into a hug. That’s when he sees you, following closely behind Rafe with his hand in yours. Topper’s eyes widen as he looks between the two of you, twin smiles on your faces, practically attached at the hip, and then he just laughs. “Oh. Kelce owes me so much money.”

—

Between the copious pre-drinks, all of the knowing looks and prying questions you were fielding from your old friends, the way Rafe had pulled you into his side tight and just planted one on you as soon as he saw Griffin come into Kelce’s kitchen—laughing against the shell of your ear, describing the look on his face because you couldn’t see where you had your back to the poor guy—you're skin was flushed so warm that you nearly regretted the sweater.

Nearly. But of course Rafe was right, it was freezing outside. And you could normally commit to a look, but maybe the weather where you went to college left you ill-prepared for even an Outer Banks winter after all these years away. You would’ve begged Rafe to go home by the second bar if you came in just the dress, and you know he would’ve said yes if you pouted a little.

Being out with him again, falling into the same routine of weighted glances, quick check-in touches against your back, shoulders, hips when you've been separated for a bit—you’d technically been in the Outer Banks for days at this point, but when Rafe is squeezing your hand as you shuffle along with a group of your friends to the next bar, you finally felt like you were home.

“This bar’s nice, we should come here sometime,” Rafe teases, planting a kiss on top of your head, arm around your shoulder crushing you to his body tightly as you struggle to keep up with his long strides in your heels.

“You’re hilarious,” you deadpan, tugging on him until he slows down a little, the two of you bringing up the rear of the group.

“You warm enough?”

“For the fifth time,” you start, gripping Rafe’s hand tightly as he leads you up the stairs to the rooftop. “Yes.”

“Hey, you said nice, caring boyfriend—“

You stop abruptly once you’re both inside, staring up at him. “Are you, though?”

“Am I what?” Rafe asks absent-mindedly, already searching for wherever your friends ran off to.

“My boyfriend?”

Rafe’s eyes widen, and then he smiles again. “Uh… I mean—I dunno. Thought we’d kind of agreed on that when you jumped me this morning.”

“Jumped you?”

“Practically.”

“But are you my boyfriend?” you ask, tugging on his hand to go follow where Topper and Blythe ran off to. “I might've missed it when you jumped me, but I don’t remember being asked.”

“Oh,” he laughs. “C’mon. Give me more credit than that. You know it’s coming.”

An idea comes to mind, and you’re turning to look at him, stopping him with a hand to his chest when you reach the bar. He signals the bartender one second, holding up a ringed finger before looking back down at you. “What if I asked you this time?”

He laughs again. “What?”

“Rafe Cameron, will you—”

“Absolutely not,” he interrupts. “No. Don’t even try.”

—

“He was moping for days, Y/n, I swear,” Blythe giggles, faltering a little when she misses her straw with her mouth, causing you both to giggle again. “I’m so glad you figured it out.”

“Me too, now we get to go to St. Bart’s,” you say, shimmying your shoulders in excitement.

“Can’t wait, ugh. Love you so much,” she says, drunkenly squishing you tightly in her arms. She hops down from where she’d been sitting beside you on the metal bartop lining the roof, your backs pressed to the glass barrier while you caught up. She accepts your hand when you help steady her, stumbling a little in her wedges. You spot Topper across the way, making significant eye contact until he's coming over. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before I leave.”

“Of course. You know they’re gonna drag us golfing at least once,” you say, rolling your eyes as Topper approaches.

“Hey, angel. Woah,” he laughs, accepting her overzealous hug. “Alright. Thanks, Y/n/n.”

“No problem, Top. Happy Thanksgiving,” you salute, waving them off, knowing that’ll probably be their last appearance for the night.

You watch them fondly as they leave, but you aren’t alone for long.

“Hey,” Kelce says, cutting through a group of people to get to you. He straightens out his blazer, checks that everyone around you has a fresh drink, ever the gracious host. “How do you like my choice in bars?”

You look around at the glowing rooftop, smiling when you spot Rafe talking to Mateo across the way. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“There’s like, four acceptable bars in Kildare, Y/n. On a good day. Come on,” he says.

You give him a look.

He concedes. “Okay, I’ll admit it crossed my mind when I sent out the invites.”

You roll your eyes, pulling him in for a hug anyway. “Thanks, Kelce. For everything.”

“Just glad you guys figured it out. You figured it out, right?” he says, clinking his glass with yours. You swirl drink in your glass before taking a sip.

“Done deal, at least on my end,” you say. Rafe catches your eye at that moment, shooting you a look. You smile back at him, and he blushes at being caught out.

“Believe me, his end, too. I honestly thought you’d make him grovel a bit longer,” Kelce admits. “Which is why I’m out $500. Should’ve known neither of you can stay away.”

“I honestly just think it was a matter of time.”

“Just like before. You guys, man,” he shakes his head, voice amplified as Rafe approaches.

“What are you two talking about?” Rafe asks, immediately slotting himself against you. You didn’t end up needing his jacket after all, but Rafe had somehow lost it anyways, his black dress shirt now unbuttoned slightly, your doing. You’ve had to resist tugging on his chain all night.

“You,” you and Kelce say at the same time, Rafe rolling his eyes.

“Oh. Great,” Rafe nods, sipping his drink.

“You’re just lucky Y/n didn’t take me up on my offer to beat your ass,” Kelce says, but it’s all love. “Enjoy your night, love birds. Next bar is in 20, but no hard feelings if you don’t make it.”

“Why didn’t you let him beat me up?” Rafe asks, kissing you once he’s gone, uncrossing your legs so he can stand between them.

You pull back slightly, your thumb stroking under his right eye. “You know I’ve never liked you with a shiner, Cameron.”

He rolls his eyes again, leaning in for another kiss.

“Okay. I think I might have been wrong about the top,” Rafe finally admits, cringing when for probably the fifth time he goes to kiss his go-to spot on your neck, his lips coming into contact with the cashmere of your turtleneck instead. He huffs, tugging your shirt down and sucking a mark in anyways, his frustration manifesting in a love bite so dizzying you have to physically push him off and down a little more of your mule before you let him take you right there in the bar. “I hate it. Take it off.”

Your straw falls out of your mouth, swirling around haphazardly in the copper mug. “You told me I looked cute!”

“I know, I don’t hate it. You’re so fucking cute—you look like a princess,” he says.

You bend down a little to look in his eyes; he doesn’t look that drunk. “A princess?”

“Yeah, like the one in Sleeping Beauty,” he shrugs. “Before the pink dress.”

“Oh, nice,” you nod, considering your tan and black ensemble. “I see it now.”

“Right?”

“Good one, Cameron,” you praise, kissing him. “But you were right, I’m cold.”

He’s looking around in seconds. “D’you want my jacket?”

“No,” you tell him. “M’good. Don’t need another layer in your way.”

“Please. I could always just go up your skirt if I wanted to,” he murmurs in your ear.

“Rafe, holy shit,” you half laugh, half breathe. “We’re in public.”

“Uh. Yeah, after six weeks apart.”

“Please behave,” you admonish, recognizing a few friends waving at you.

Rafe fingers the material of your dress between two fingers, the cold metal of his ring pressing into the skin on your thigh. “Can’t believe you were gonna wear this to piss me off.”

“Not to piss you off. Just to look hot in front of you,” you clarify.

“It would’ve done both, especially with Griffin here.”

“Ooh, that actually might have been a good tactic.”

“What?”

You shrug. “Flirting with him a little bit.”

“You’re a little evil, you know that? You just like to pretend you’re not,” Rafe says, smiling in indignation. “Like you could even try to tolerate Griffin for more than five minutes.”

“You met my ex,” you sigh, sipping your mule again.

That makes Rafe laugh, and you just scowl, pushing on his chest to put some distance between you.

“I can’t lie, though. I’m just the tiniest bit bitter our table is taken,” Rafe says.

“There’s a zillion other tables, baby,” you tell him.

“But they’re not our table,” he points out. He looks at the couple that’s sitting at the table across the bar, looking every bit like they’re on the same timid first date you two were on over half a year ago. “What did you think of me? When you decided to say yes?”

You suck in a breath, thinking about it for a second. “I think I was like ‘wow, he’s still hot. He still makes me laugh, he’s grown up just a little bit.’ Is your ego inflated enough now?”

“Yes, just the correct amount.”

“Good, good.”

It’s silent for a bit, Rafe just staring at you until you nearly burst. “Okay, and?”

A toothy grin makes its way onto Rafe’s features. “And what?”

“What did you think of me?”

Rafe holds a hand out for you in a way so familiar, so exciting to this day, like it’s never lost its touch. And the kiss he plants on you feels exactly the same as the first time; you’re beginning to wonder if it ever won’t feel that way. “Kinda what I’ve always thought.”

“Hm?”

Rafe sets his glass down, helping you hop off the bar, holding both of your hands in his own where you stand before him. He leans down, talking directly into your ear so you can hear him clearly over the music.

“You came in from right over there,” he says, pointing to the entrance. “Purple dress. I saw you immediately, and I pretended I didn’t. Gave myself like a solid twenty-second pep talk in my head.”

“Rafe,” you say, leaning into him, hearing this detail for the first time ever.

“Mind you I’d already been here freaking out for fifteen minutes before that. Not including the ten-minute freakout in the car,” he admits, cheeks burning red. Your heart flutters, the back of your hand pressing into the warm skin on his face. “And then you finally found me.”

“And then I found you. But what’d you think?” you ask, bouncing up and down lightly in impatience.

“You aren’t allowed to laugh,” he says. “I’m serious.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“I thought…” he says, tucking some hair behind your ear, a thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “I can’t fuck this up.”

“Oof,” you cringe.

He laughs breathily. “I know. I know! But I promise that’s not all. You’re sure you wanna know?”

“Out with it. M’not gonna beg,” you say. “Unless you want me to.”

“I thought,” he begins one more time, the string lights reflecting in his eyes, his touch on your face so light and soft you can barely feel it, grounding you to the moment anyway. “I can’t fuck this up. Because if she’ll have me, I’m gonna marry that girl one day.’”

—

The rest of your weekend passes by in the blink of an eye, it seems; you end up timing it strategically to leave the Camerons' dinner just in time you sit down to your own. You both held in giggles as you tried to bullshit the last month and half of your relationship for your mom, Ward, and Rose. Your respective siblings don’t make it any easier, but it’s worth it for the way you get to spend the entire holiday pressed into Rafe’s side, exchanging war stories with John B, attempting to navigate this strange new dynamic with Ward.

Rafe had very quickly gotten to the point of relishing in his father’s total back down, dragging you down to the wine cellar—and yes, pushing you up against the stone wall for long enough that you come back upstairs flustered because he couldn’t keep his hands off of you for a second these days—before the two of you skip off with one of the nicest, priciest bottles Rafe could find, barely saying goodbye, knowing no consequences will be suffered if Ward wants to keep his son around.

So before you know it, you’re outside Tannyhill at 6am on Sunday to drive Rafe to the ferry so he can catch his flight back to Georgia.

He’d flirted with the idea of changing his flight to later in the day, squeeze in those last few hours with you. You didn’t let him. But when he’s standing on the porch with his duffel sling over his shoulder and a bouquet of flowers cradled in his other arm, you briefly wonder what the flight change policy is.

“Rafe, that’s the fourth—fifth one this weekend? I’m going to be leaving my parents a graveyard of peonies.”

“So?” he says in greeting, placing the flowers in your lap before leaning in to kiss you over your center console. “I have some time to make up for. Morning.”

“Morning,” you smile, kissing him a bit longer before pulling out onto the road.

“No tears this time?” Rafe requests, his hand hooked into the handle above his seat, legs splayed out, looking so comfortable. Like he never left.

“C’mon. Maybe a just few,” you sigh.

“It’s only two weeks, sweet girl,” he reminds you. “12 days.”

You shrug. “Still too many.”

“You’re right,” he smiles, kissing you again at the next stoplight.

It’s the first time you feel completely at peace as you send him off, back to where he’ll be seven states away from you for a period of time. Even if you’re sad that you won’t have him next to you, you know he’s with you. And you’re with him.

He’s yours, and you’re his. Forever and ever, like you always have been, since before you even knew that you could ever end up here one day.

You cross your arms over your chest as you watch him adjust his backpack, drop his duffel onto the pavement, having one of those moments where you gaze upon him in disbelief that you were lucky enough to be loved by him, by your old friend Rafe Cameron. Your hometown crush, who you’d always secretly wondered about; contemplated if you could ever work up the nerve, finally get the timing right, just let yourself try to love him and be loved by him.

You never had to try, you realize. All those years, you were just pretending it wasn’t already happening against your will. Pulling you back in, over and over again, stronger each time until you realized it was never going away. Because it was always where you were meant to end up.

“Any last words, Cameron?”

“Hm. I’ll miss you,” he says, arms encircling your shoulders.

“I’ll miss you, too. But try again.”

He tilts his head to the side, sunglasses hiding the mirth in his eyes until you push them up on top of his head. “Hm. You’re it for me?”

“I know, you are too. But—”

“Gonna marry you one day?”

Your heart seizes a little in your chest at that one, but you won’t break. “A new one, I like it. Still no.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“That’s… closer, I think?” you tease. “And I love you, too.”

“Hm,” he sighs, rocking you side to side. “I don’t know what you want me to say here, Y/l/n.”

“I could always just leave.”

“Okay, go on then.”

But he knows you won’t. You both do. You stand before each other, both having tried and failed at some point to run from this due to whatever self-doubt had planted itself in your heads over the years. But your love was undeniable. It decidedly wasn’t easy all the time, but it was worth it. It always will be.

“Y/n, for the second time and—god, hopefully, the last. Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Thought you’d never ask, RC.”

—

end.

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[skyler-bane]

Ok guys, step aside, we want a review for our half-hiatus/half-hyperactive year.

I posted 935 times in 2022

472 posts created (50%)

463 posts reblogged (50%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sharpenurdamnknife

@brokenblondeprincess

@amourpoetique

@ayakoito

@xseen2muchx

I tagged 926 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#ooc: it's art again - 98 posts

#hc:skyler - 61 posts

#answer:skyler - 58 posts

#meme - 58 posts

#answer:ooc - 54 posts

#fc:skyler - 42 posts

#skyler:piper - 32 posts

#95180:why won't you die? - 27 posts

#skyler&piper // you should go and find someone — i hope that you don't find no one but me - 27 posts

#rp stuff - 23 posts

Longest Tag: 129 characters

#ian&althea // still find my fathers shrapnel buried beneath my skin but i’ve begun to heal in all the places your hands have been

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

*it's happening everybody stay calm gif*

sooo I’m starting a new job tomorrow; I’m a bit stressed and excited, and I might not be around as much as I’d like. I’m gonna need some time to get adjusted and them I’ll be able to focus on all the fun tumblr stuff again lol

such a chaotic and stressful month ugh but it’s gonna be better now. wish me luck and be patient, thank you, love you, etc. 

12 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

#4

definitely not my year but we’re not giving up without a fight anyway. feels like problems and sad news keep piling up, so i’m just tired, to say the least. if you want to plot or talk i’m more or less active on discord, and (again) i should be back soonish. 

13 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

#3

@angelsgonnahell​

"No, that’s not how we do it in this household, Effy. People come to give money back – we say thank you, take the money, close the door. People ask for money – we say fuck you and close the door. Why didn’t you tell that guy to fuck off?”

16 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

#2

“Fuck no, you shouldn’t see the other one. He looked much better after he’d kicked my ass and therefore, we’ll scratch him from my story.” Skyler smiled bitterly. He could joke about it and laugh that bruise off, but his ego suffered more than his ribcage did. Would he learn anything from that and stop starting such unnecessary fights? Of course not. The lesson would be gone even before his bruises had a chance to heal. 

16 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

My idea here is he wants to use your character and plant some device/steal something he needs, but doesn’t necessarily have to be this kind of plot.

He almost jumped at the sound of her voice. Sudden noises in the middle of the night were his least favorite – one could never prepare for that inevitable mini heart attack. With a quiet, bored sigh, Skyler turned around, smiling a little apologetically. “Sorry I woke you up. Everythin’s under control. I’m just lookin’ for-... Uh, never mind, go back to sleep.” 

28 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[presidentbungus]

Can I get uhhhhhhhhh a short fuse (demoengie) with a side of crossfaction? Maybe with a little bit of sneaking around and/or pining thank yew :3

uhh it’s been like a month but good news I’m back on this shit again😁😁😁 motivation damaged but not down. love wins. should hopefully be back on that grind again soonish💪💪💪💪💪

anyway uhh yeah I went a little nuts with the pining aspect friends to lovers wm I right😂😂😂 but yeah hopefully this works. whatevr I said in the beginning note about demo being skeptical on the existence of emotions. the conclusion’s a bit poopy because I did NOT know how to end it but I do whatever I want . I am going to say I want to return to this later and realistically I will not but love has won bigger before wish me luck

ao3

Demo takes off from his own base in the dead of night, landing in the sand deep in BLU territory. He remembers to pack his parachute today—that’s a good thing. His ankles barely even snap as he hits the ground.

The roll-up garage door guarding the combination workshop-infirmary was a very careful decision on Engie’s part, for a lot of reasons, though Demo doubts this one was really what he envisioned while he was getting it installed. If it works, though, it works. Tavish marches up to it and knocks once, followed by two quick taps—a Morse code ‘D’. Dell’s right behind the door as it rolls up and Demo kind of wants to tackle him, but he settles for an uneasy side-hug as he limps into the lab.

“It’s been a while,” Tavish says, and he lets himself smile just this once. “Where’ve you been?”

“Busy as all hell. Everyone is—this is the first night in awhile nobody’s bothering us. Did you sticky jump here again?”

Demo stops for a moment, dumping his stuff onto the workbench, and then swivels. “Well my ankles are only a wee bit broken. Give me some credit.”

Dell frowns. “One ‘a these days you’re just gonna, like, hit your head on a rock or something in the middle of the desert. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“It’s no problem, Truckie, really. If I couldn’t bloody sticky jump I wouldn’t have my job.”

“I still reckon—“

“Hello, Demoman,” comes a high-pitched voice from somewhere deeper in the bowels of the lab. “If you have to use the Medi-Gun you may though please avoid sudden movements. I am working with a new specimen.”

Engie must see Demo’s incredulous look flash across because he squeezes his arm and says: “Oh yeah, I guess I shoulda said Medic’s here too.”

There’s a divider curtain. Medic pulls it back and waves. “I have been sworn to secrecy already, and to be frank with you I do not really care. I’m not here. Don’t worry about it.”

Demo goes through the curtain and plunks down on the operating table, as Dell tinkers with something and gets the Medi-Gun on and going. “One of these days, Engie…”

“It’s fine. No one’ll know, I promise.”

“Medic knows.”

“Medic’s trustworthy. That’s a lie. Medic’s trustworthy about this one thing in particular.”

Tavish flexes his ankles, feeling the bones fit back together, narrowing his eye.

“I am a very trustworthy person,” Medic adds, and it’s not immediately clear if it’s sarcasm or not.

“Tell yourself what you need to,” Engie says. He flicks off the Medi-Gun, grabs Tavish by the shoulder, leads him back to the workshop. “Anything in particular you wanna work on, or…”

Tavish sniffles. “I dunno. What’re you doin’ right now?”

“Well, I thought I might work on the ol’ level three print a little—and, um, wait, I guess I was—what do you think of the rockets I have in here right now? They’re pretty lightweight so I can load ‘em easier but they don’t do quite as much damage as I want.”

"God I missed this," Tavish says, and Engie stares at him, and he follows: "The, uh... construction is... a wee bit interesting."

Engie grins. "That bad?"

"You said it, not me," and Engie claps him on the back and it feels like every single wee little thing he's been stressin' over the last six months just goes away.

—

Tavish wakes up late-late at night-almost-morning when someone nudges him, and he sits up and he yawns and stretches and for a moment he's not sure where he is.

He rubs his eye enough it ain't so damn blurry and he's a little hungover and he sees Engie next to him, smiling gently, saying words he doesn't quite process yet, and he looks back and Medic's also talking behind him. Maybe to him. He can't tell.

Some damn noise, and he looks over and realizes Engie's trying to get his attention. "Hey. Hey. You awake?"

What comes out of Demo's mouth next is more a mangled clump of vowels than anything resembling words, but he hopes he gets the idea.

"I'm, uh. Sorry—I don't wanna have to wake you up, but..."

"It is bedtime," Medic says, and the fact that he's in a tank top and cross-covered pajama pants and dinky little dove slippers makes sense. "Just because we have company does not mean we can afford to lose sleep. Isn’t that right, Engie?”

Dell looks at Medic, and then looks at Tavish pleadingly, like he’s begging him to say something, and then he crosses his arms and looks at the floor.

“Ahem.”

“Yes, Doc. Whatever you want me to say.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Medic hums. “I know you would like to cuddle some more but there are other priorities.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Medic does not elaborate. Demo squints. “Um, what?”

“I wouldn’t call it cuddlin’, necessarily. Needed a surface to sleep on and he chose me.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it or anything—I, uh, I didn’t mind.”

Demo squints a little more, standing and taking a few steps away. There’s a very visible patch of drool staining Engie’s overalls. 

… Whoops.

“As amusing as this is I am going to have to ask you to leave, Demo,” Medic says, and despite the total absence of sincerity he doesn’t seem mean about it. “Thank you for visiting. Come again! Or something along those lines.”

“Uh… sure.” Something structurally integral in Demo’s brain is falling apart very noisily—he can practically hear the beams snapping. “Yeah. Alright.”

Medic seizes Engie by the shoulder, lifting him out of his seat and dragging him towards the door. “See you later, partner.”

“Bye Engie.” Why exactly does his chest feel like it is going to implode? He might be having a heart attack. “Um, seeya. Or something.”

He only realizes once he’s already taken off again that his parachute is still where he left it, under the desk in the workshop, and he wakes up in respawn with a headache and vaguely remembers smashing his head into the base wall and feels like maybe just this one time Engie was right.

—

Behind the wall, under the stairs, away from the fight in the first place. Nobody comes down here unless they’re spies and spies should know to leave enough alone. He caught Engie making the trek back to the cart—the toolbox he was carrying lays in the canal, contents sinking, and Tavish has a foot on his chest and a sword aimed right at his throat.

God—he does this too much. Engie grins at him despite every single thing, still just having the time of his life, and he clears his throat and braces his arms against the ground and says: “You know I won’t get mad at you if ya kill me.” 

Tavish considers himself to be in tune with his emotions, or something stupid like that. It would be lying to say he doesn’t care if Engie cares—he does. That’s the bloody thing. That’s why he sits here without the bloody balls to bring the sword down into his throat, do his job, seal the fucking deal. No matter what he sits there and says to make him feel better about it and no matter how much he grins his lopsided little grin, that makes Tavish’s chest ache if he looks at it too long. 

It’s why he drives the sword into the cobbled pavement instead of Engie, leans on the hilt and tries not to look like his organs are six seconds from coming out his mouth, and he says: “Can’t we just talk?”

“Tavvy, you know I wish we could.” He probably knows how absolutely devastating this feels, so he sits up best he can and taps Demo on the knee with his wrench. “I’m sorry. You remember what happened ‘tween you and Soldier.”

“I know. Keep getting attached to things I can’t have.”

He doesn’t expect Dell to hear this, but he does, of course. “Hey, don’t be like that. We can make this work out. Just gotta be careful—“

And it’s right here something splats, and it takes Demo a second to realize Engie’s face isn’t there anymore. Just blood. A bullet gleams in the gore. Sniper waves at him through a window and Demo glares but he can’t bring himself to say anything.

… Maybe if he let Engie stand up a little faster…

There’s no point in thinking about it, he knows. Probably for the best or something along those lines. Demo feels a thousand pounds heavy as he drags himself away. About eleven minutes later he crosses the line of fire and Engie waves at him and he’s instantly blown up by a level three, and he thinks he sort of deserves it to be honest.

—

“I don’t—I dunno, mate. It’s hard. It’s so bloody hard and I wish it weren’t.”

Scout leans against his shoulder—already having a fair hard time staying upright. Barely two bottles deep, plus the beer out here’s like water. Bloody lightweight. “What’s hard?”

“… Engie. Being friends with… Engineer. The other one. Have you been listening?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m sorry but I think you’re thinking way too much about it.”

“Scout, you’re drunk.”

“Y’know—“ (hic)—“y’know I don’t really get your choice in guys but, you know, do what you want. Free freakin’ country.”

Demo pushes Scout off a little, so he just slides into his lap instead. “Choice in—huh?”

“Y’know what I do when I got my eye on someone? I’ll tell ya. I—I shoot my shot, I tell ‘em. You worry about it and you’re done for, okay. Just—just dead in the water. Like a stupid fish. Stomach up in the air.”

“Scout, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Shoot your—your freakin’ shot, man, is what I mean!”

Oh god what is he saying. “I’m not in… I’m not in love with him, Scout, what the hell are you on?”

Scout hiccups for a long time and then eventually turns his entire body over and looks up at Demo with glistening eyes, crumpled like he just said something deeply harmful.

After a while of flapping his stupid jaw and saying nothing he eventually says: “Are you… sure?”

“Why do people keep bloody thinkin’ we’re shacking up or some shite? We’re mates! Mates do things together! It’s okay for me to wantae—you know.”

“Kiss him?”

Demo hesitates for entirely too long. “Platonically.”

Scout sits up a little and spits into the grass, for no apparent reason. “Shoot your shot, man,” he says.

“You’re drunk, Scoutie.”

“So are you.”

“You’re not thinkin’—“

“On love.”

Tavish doesn’t know how to respond to this so he just says: “If you throw up on my bloody pants I’m pushing ye off the roof.”

“Am I freakin’ wrong?”

Demo doesn’t reply.

“‘S’what I thought.”

“It’s not gonna be… we can’t, y’know. Too much risk. Even now we gotta sneak around behind all your backs.”

“No one cares, Demo.”

“The bloody company cares. Can’t go around just—givin’ sweet little kisses to everyone I fancy.”

Scout’s entire body tightens, and Demo scrambles backwards as he expects puke to factor in somewhere but it’s just to release a particularly violent cough. “So you just… be careful, huh? And I mean it’s not like he’s Soldier—“

“Scout you are literally repeating what he keeps saying to me.”

“Maybe it’s true.”

Tavish has no reply to this.

“You ain’t gonna be happy if you just pretend it doesn’t exist cause you’re sad or whatever, pally. Ya gotta steel your nuts and bite the bullet and just tell him.”

“… Okay.” Tavish does not feel comfortable with this. “Are ye… sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m sure.”

Demo burps, patting Scout’s shoulder, trying to figure out a way to combat this but he can’t and as terrifying as that is it’s also a little bit… weird. Good weird. He can’t think of the word and he doesn’t want to.

“You know,” he says—with the idea he’ll go somewhere after this.

“I know what?”

“One time we were workin’ together and I fell asleep on him and he let me sleep on him for like three hours—“

“He loves you back,” Scout mumbles.

“You really think so?”

“Stop—thinkin’ about it, I already said.”

“… Okay.”

“Listen. You’re gonna go to that—uh, wherever you’re goin’. March up to him. Say I love you. If it’s anything like the movies, you’ll kiss.”

Tavish sneers. “Is that the basis for your comparison, lad?”

“No. I mean like a realistic movie. Just tell me you’re gonna do it.”

“Why would I?”

“‘Cause you want to.”

“… You don’t know that.”

Scout clambers onto him, clutching his shirt. “Yes I do. I know everything.”

“No you don’t. You’re drunk.”

“Say you promise.”

“I don’t—“

“Promise me, Demo.”

“Will you get off me?”

“Tell him how you feel.”

“Okay.” Something breaks in his head, again. “Okay. Christ. Fine. I’ll tell him.”

Scout gives a doofy little smile, and sloughs back onto the ground. “Great to hear, pal.”

“If it goes bad I’ll kill ye.”

“It won’t.”

God Tavish hopes Scout is right.

—

Been going on an hour or two--nothing between them but the Haze, coffee and beer and not sleeping for however long it's been, for either of them. Demo works shitty low-end jobs in Teufort to keep his mum happy and Dell just does his thing, contraptions no one needed or wanted but that he still works on, night after night after sleepless day. Always going. Tavish doesn't know if his family ever even existed--wouldn't be surprised if he came out of the oil field one day, from the dust and sun, never slept a wink since.

Tonight's Friday. Tavish's sticky launcher lies in front of them, disassembled, as Dell makes notes on its structure and construction. Have to have done this a thousand times but he always finds somethin' new to gloat on. Here's the one day of the week Medic's not allowed to bug him about getting to bed in time, long as he sleeps in--maybe it was half an hour ago he said that he just got up at six anyway and kept to himself in the workshop, til Medic got wise and started listening for the door arsecrack of the morning. It’s not healthy and Demo tells him that but then Engie says well he sleeps about two hours a day cause of all those jobs and Demo says three hours, actually, and they both laugh because neither of them want to implicate each other of something they’re both entirely guilty of. 

He knows he’s supposed to say something—he knows what he supposed to say, but he doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to say it, so he decides he’ll bring it up later, maybe when they’re both a bit more drunk and sleep-drunk, high on the night. (Drunk on love, a voice annoyingly similar to Scout’s urges, which he blocks our soon as it comes). Somewhere deep inside of him he knows if he keeps postponing it, it’s never going to happen. 

Just a little longer, he promises that little image of Scout running circles in his head—maybe stumbling, considering the state he was in two nights ago. He was hoping he wouldn’t remember the conversation but he came up at like nine in the goddamn morning wearing sunglasses and full-body flinching at every noise telling him off for why hasn’t he done it yet, even though a grand total of six hours (three hours of sleep) had passed.

And even now Engie sets a hand on his back, smiling gently, sending some terrifying unidentifiable electricity through his body, and Tavish resists the urge to lean into him.

“Hey,” he says, the ever-present chuckle in his voice a calming undercurrent. “You alright? You’re thinking a lot.”

Tavish smiles, even though the act of it makes his organs rearrange in his chest cavity. “Oh—yeah, I’m great. Musta zoned out for a sec. What were you saying?”

Dell bites his bottom lip—he’s thinking about something, and by god Demo hopes it’s not him.

“Now you’re thinking,” Tavish mutters. “That ain’t fair.”

“… Partner, you know I think communication’s important.”

The way his heart drops straight into his bloody kidneys. “Of course.”

“If something’s wrong… you can tell me.”

“Are you sure?” This is not what he meant to say this is not what he meant to say at all. “I mean—“

“Of course I’m sure,” and it takes Demo a second to process what exactly just happened, and he looks down at his hand and finds Dell gripping it tight tight tight and he’s a little dizzy, to be honest. “You know I‘m here for you. Thick n’ thin. If there’s something bothering you it’s bothering me too, alright?”

“… I don’t think ye wantae know.” This one’s true, at the very least.

“I do, is the issue.” He’s gaining speed. “If it’s—you’re allowed to talk about yourself, Tavvy. Ain’t no one gonna judge you here.”

“It’s different,” he urges. “I have—I’m fine, but—it’s not that.”

“So what is it?” The look on his face is a very clear we are coming back to this later.

“I don’t—I just can’t—“

Engie hugs him, and squeezes out every single thought in his mind.

With one awful exception.

Stupid fish. Dead in the bloody water. Shoot your shot, chucklenuts.

“I love you,” he says.

“What?”

“I’ve—I’ve just been—“ go for it, go for it, dead in the water, don’t go bloody belly up you’ve made it this far—“I guess I’m just trying to say that, um… I just think maybe…”

“Demo?”

“I said I love you,” he says, more firmly, and when Dell doesn’t respond he keeps going: “You care too much about me and—we’ve been meetin’ for lord knows how long and every time you touch me it feels like I’m gonna die in a good way, and if you don’t think that too that’s alright and I’m not gonna—“

“I love you too.”

Something white hot burns down his spine and into his blood, flashing into the ends of his fingers and back.

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it, Tavish. I really do.”

“Are you sure?”

And here Engie pulls back and to be honest Demo’s a bit sore at the loss of contact but the hands on his shoulders are still there and for a second they’re so close their faces are almost touching, just sitting there and there’s no one else in the goddamn world but them two, and Dell’s goggles are off and there’s something in his eyes so deep and joyful Tavish feels a little dizzy just thinking about it and Dell says: “May I?”

“May you what?” Smooth moves, Tavish. “Wait. I think I got it. Yes you can.”

Something connects—and it connects and everything lights up on fire, burning impossibly bright and loud, and Demo is probably going insane by now but he can swear it just tastes like honey—sweet and rich. When Dell pulls back from the kiss he feels like some large part of him has been taken with it and Dell can have it for all he goddamn cares. 

They kiss again shorter this time and Tavish can’t feel his legs and Dell says, a little breathless: “I hope that answers all relevant questions.”

And look at that, he’s still alive. “Still swimming in the bloody reef.” 

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

He grins, pulling Tavish down to kiss him on the chin, and Tavish is just kind of going along with whatever at this point to be honest. “Oh, shucks, this is great,” he says. “I’m—oh. I’m so excited. I love you so much.” Another chin-kiss, a little higher. 

“… I love you too.” Is this really all he had to do? “Are you sure?”

“Sure as a sparrow in spring, sweetheart.”

Tavish is pretty sure that means yes. “Alright,” he says.

“Alright? We’re good. We’re so good.”

“Y’know we’re partners now.” Emphasize partners, with a little stupid accent to draw across the joke. Dell gets it in about half a second, given how loud he immediately starts laughing, kissing Demo again and again and again until he’s more dizzy than he already was and he knows Scout’s gonna I-told-you-so ‘til the sun burns out but for once maybe he deserves it.

Tavish could get used to this, he really could, and part of that’s terrifying but also mind-numbingly thrilling in some bizarre, to be honest fairly obvious way.

Digression, or something. Something tells him right here and right now he doesn’t have to think about it so hard, and maybe that’s enough. Drunk on love. He’s gonna punch Scout when he gets back to base.