#which is in itself sadly impressive

[galaxysharks]

Madlyn, but it's got flavors from that one scene from Wynonna Earp.

Someone, probably Ash's mother or something: oh and even the lesbians are here

Maddox, barely conscious, face down on a desk: technically, Ash is Ash....

Ashlyn, trying to help her: sweetheart, it's ok, go back to sleep...

[ferrstappen]

could you be more obvious? l MV1

a/n: thissss is based on a request I got and ofc I added the Verstappen twins <3 this is messy I’m sorry but I’m on a writing mood

summary: you show up pregnant for the first race of 2024, just six months after Max won his 3rd WDC.

Max being crowned world champion for the third time was something that made your skin buzz with excitement, a knot form in your throat seeing everything he’s achieved and the pride and satisfaction of knowing that every single person on the team had his back, was definitely one of the best sights.

But for Luca and Mila Verstappen, their papa being champion again time wasn’t exactly a big deal… they knew it was important because there were lots of fireworks and special tshirts, but they were born watching Max a champion, they only knew him as such.

what, like it’s a big deal?

They didn’t say it, but you knew that’s what was on their mind.

That was the reason why both Max and you decided to not bring the twins to Qatar, especially with the high temperatures and Luca’s history of getting sick during Grand Prix weekends, they were more than happy to stay with auntie Vic while you got ready to celebrate your husband.

And God, did you celebrate him.

Without the twins, the gin and tonics kept coming, the sloppy make out session on the VIP area of the club as if you were teenagers again, his front pressed against your back as he tried to impress you with his best moves, only to earn a couple of drunken giggles and peck on the lips.

Things were starting to quiet down, lots of people had already left to their hotel room, but you and Max were on a world of your own, with you sitting on top of him, but the moment you started feeling his lips ghosting against your neck, his hands moving from your waist to squeeze your hip.

and you knew it was time to go.

Bahrain, 2024

Max didn’t remember being so excited for race day. Yes, he was anxious for the new season, but the highlight of his day was seeing you getting ready, a loose blouse and white jeans accentuating the noticeable belly of six months of pregnancy, which was a complete surprise to everyone.

You entered the paddock through the main entrance, with photographers everywhere and Kym Ilman greeting your family, because the scene was worth more than a couple thousand likes on Instagram: you were holding Mila’s hand who in return was holding Luca’s, while Max walked with his arm protectively around your belly.

The twins weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of having a baby brother or sister, a fact they made clear by asking every day if there was any chance to stop the baby from coming home eventually, telling you and Max that they were more than okay having the cats. Sadly, they were the only ones

“No! No! No! Is that why you went MIA on social media? Oh my God look at this bump! Congratulations you two,” Lily let go of Alex’s hand to give you a tight hug as Alex congratulated Max with a couple of pats on the back.

The scene repeated itself with most drivers on the grid, who didn’t ask how far along you were, but were able to deduce the situation. Until…

“How far along are you?” Charles asked you as he held Luca on his arms, letting him mess with his hair.

You blushed and Max’s chest puffed as if he has been waiting for the question. “I’m a couple of days away from the six months mark,”

Charles looked as if he was doing a very specific and difficult math problem as his girlfriend, Alexandra, stares at him with a faint blush on her cheeks, probably since she has always been more reserved around you because she was younger, but she was impatiently waiting for her boyfriend to catch on the situation.

“This is a 2023 season baby?” Charles asked.

“Looks like it,” Max answered with a smug smile on his face, but in reality it was an excited grin which reached his blue eyes.

“No…” Charles jaw dropped and had to put Luca on the floor.

“No what?” Max counter asked, even if he knew the answer. This time he started drawing mindless shapes on the clothes over your swollen stomach.

“Max… is this your championship child?” Charles whispered, shocked.

“What can I say? Winning on and off the track!”

And Charles almost passed out as both you and Max laughed, beaming while interlacing your fingers over your belly, knowing cameras wouldn’t catch you there.

user1: Max knocked y/n up the night of the third championship change my mind

user2: Max Verstappen pulled a k-mag and I respect that

user3: do we know the birthday of the verstappen twins? Asking for a friend

user4: y/n and max will have a full kindergarten if they have a kid every time he wins the championship💀

user5: are we really surprised after those videos leaked of max squeezing her ass while they were celebrating the 3rd wdc

user6: if the maths are mathing this baby will be born around the Monaco gp. GODS PLAN

[sugary-daydreams3]

Quiet inbetween [Sukuna x Reader]

Summary: Collections of quiet, cozy, intimate moments you share with Sukuna, who thinks you two won't last a year. Someone who used to live a wild, fast-paced, loud lifestyle couldn't possibly be fit for a long-term relationship. But he doesn't know that you're the one he needed this whole time.

Word Count: 3.7K words

Rating: Mostly fluff with a little spice (sexual content) at the end, but no full explicit content. Mostly T with a little M.

A/N: Happy holidays y'all. This might be my last fic posted in the year so I hope you guys transition into the new year safely. Goodness, do I love writing my A.U. version of Sukuna. So fun and flirty that he makes me blush sometimes and I control what he says. But I guess that's a good thing, right. Sadly my next fic is dealing with a not so fun topic, haha. (It's Gojo-centric, so you might know where I'm going with this) Anyways, stay safe out there and I'll see you again in 2025. Enough yapping from me, enjoy!

Normal, quiet moments tend to bring discomfort within Sukuna. Dating trouble as a teen limited his time to sit and enjoy the small pleasures of life. He was all about the grand, overwhelming, taboo pleasures that one wouldn’t dare chase but rather daydream about. Or worse, make simulation games about and live out their guilty pleasures vicariously through fictional characters. But with taboo pleasures come consequences which landed him in jail for some time.  

Within the year after his release, he met you which slowly inspired him to alter his fast, vicious lifestyle. You introduced him to things he never would have found himself participating in. Things he used to tease his twin brother for being a sheep for society for. A mom-and-pop coffee shop was one of them.  

“How do you drink this shit?” Sukuna sticks out his tongue. Tanned liquid trapped in your mouth almost spills. Air blows from your nose, signifying your amusement at Sukuna’s first experience with coffee.  

Swallowing down the first sip of your coffee, your eyes admire Sukuna’s childlike distaste for your go-to morning beverage. “Because I order mine with cream, sugar, and caramel. You’re pretty much drinking burnt black water.”  

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”   

You give him a “really?” look. “I said you should start out with the caramel Frappuccino but you said, and I quote.” You notch your voice down several pitches lower. “The hell I look like drinking that sissy shit.”  

“You could have recommended me any other drink but this. This was a terrible first impression.”  

“I can order you another one to make up for it.”  

Sukuna pouts. “I’ll pass. I fear I’ll be disappointed again.”  

“Sukuna, you just drink straight black coffee, you can’t write the whole thing off just because you had one variation of it. That’s like saying “I hate potatoes” because you ate unsalted, lukewarm fries.” Sukuna scrunches his face.  

“That’s not the same.”  

“Yes, it is. It’s a perfect comparison.”  

“It’s two completely different scenarios. You really thought you schooled me with that, huh.”  

“Shut up. I’m ordering you a new drink.”  

Waiting for his redemption cup, Sukuna stares at you typing away on your laptop computer. Your hair curtains over part of your face, tempting Sukuna to reach over and fix it. Yet the messy hair curtain highlights your beauty so effortlessly, he couldn’t stop adoring your natural radiance.  

The strong smell of roast occasionally makes its mark. Ranges of chatter mingle with the loud cycle of brewing and baking. Quirky, cheesy posters hang all over, providing a drowning sense of positivity and relatability. Generic chill music slithers through the atmosphere, failing to chill Sukuna’s social anxiety. Thankfully, his new drink just came to save the moment.  

Taking a drink from the flat white laced with sugar and cream, he sits back to allow his brain to register. His eyebrows raise with a small smack of his mouth, giving you some hope that coffee redeemed itself on the oh so great Sukuna’s tastebuds.   

“Well?” You ask impatiently.  

“Not bad. Could use more sugar but it’s drinkable.” Sukuna reviews. A pleased smile killed your worry. “I’m glad you gave it a second chance. I hope we can have more coffee dates like this.”  

Sukuna narrows his eyes. “This is a date?”   

Your eyes roll. “No this is a job interview.”  

“I’m not one for customer service but if I get to look at you all day long and the pay is good then sign me up.” You hate that something as corny as that made you blush.  

“Hush Sukuna, of course this is a date. This is like our twelfth time seeing each other, I like to think all of the time we spent together so far wasn't a waste of time.”  

“Ooh someone’s no-nonsense.” Sukuna smirks, large arms crossed.  

You sigh, “I’m just over the hookups and the flings. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just one-and-done me.”  

“Eh, all of the one-night conquests and strictly sex ordeals were starting to get stale. You got a nice face with a body to match. You’re on no bullshit and are fun for the most part. You haven't bored me yet so I don’t mind continuing this.”  

“Yet?”  

“I tend to get bored with my women so I wouldn't hold hope of this lasting past a year. Just letting you know so the heartbreak will hurt a little less.”  

You smirk, amused by his lack of filter. “Well, a year will be record breaking compared to my recent relationships these last few years. So bring it.”  

Your polished nails navigate the grassy fields of dusty pink, natural hair oil inked on your fingertips. Your poor thighs are weighed down under his dumbbells for arms. Your other hand caress Sukuna’s right bicep, fixating on the jet black tattoos contrasting with his pale skin. He rubs your left knee as he rests against your stomach.  

Sukuna releases a deep sigh, letting go of the temporary stresses of life. He’ll rather die than admit it but this is what he mostly looks forward to when he goes about his day. It took him a while to get used to you being positioned behind him, often side eyeing the first few times you two were like this.   

Call it trust issues. Slam the non-medical diagnosis of PTSD resulted from a rough upbringing and life as a criminal. Or if we’re really getting psychological, throw out the fancy “internalized misanthropy” word. Re-fucking-gardless, he’s always been highly aware and on guard whenever people are in close proximity to him, ever since he was a kid.  

Now, the more he allows himself to turn his brain off in your lap the easier you hear him lightly snoring within several minutes. You giggle as his resting figure emits loud snores thirty minutes in of scalp scratching and head caressing.   

“Sweet dreams.” You reach down to peck warmth on his forehead.  

Your wishes go unnoticed as child-like ease warps itself across face tattoos and a sharp jawline. A surprisingly dynamic clash.  

Your laughter saturates the kitchen space accompanied by music from the vintage radio. Flour dressed your behemoth all over, making it the sight of the century. Sukuna frowns as he attempts to smooth the pizza dough with the rolling pin. Tears edge your eyes; the catastrophe he was causing was funnier than any standup comedy.  

“Hush. You're breaking my focus.” Sukuna was struggling to knead the dough enough to be a thin foundation. It usually ends up shaping to be a deep dish or just a regular sized pizza. This was his third effort to mold the pizza, with two “epic failures” baking in the oven.  

When your laughter demoted to light chuckles, you rub his arm for support. “You know I can help you shape the dough. It took me fifteen tries before making an objectively decent pizza.” Sukuna shakes his head.  

“That’s because you were the one making it. It’s gonna be perfect this time.” Sukuna smooths out the dough and smirks at his “perfectly” thin pizza. You roll your eyes and walk over to gather the cheese and other toppings.  

The pizza rises within the oven, gluing the toppings within the cheese. Sukuna watches it carefully from the kitchen island, like his life depended on whether this Thursday night dinner was great or not.   

A marathon of T.V. commercial ramblings was bugging background noise as you tidied up. The other two pizzas sat on the cooling rack, being forgotten tasty mistakes. Flour ages his hair many decades, snowing down his chest with every tiny movement. He turns to see an unlikely troublemaker look down at him, a small hill of flour ready to be thrown from your palm. Sukuna narrows his eyes with a challenging look.  

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling.”  

“Game on.” You threw it, igniting a two-man war.  

The remaining time for the perfect pizza to cook filled with flour fights, spotting majority of the kitchen with white powder. The cooking timer goes off as you two lay across the table exchanging flour and zeal between prolonged smooches.

This epic fantasy was seducing your imagination during the mundane hours of the late evening. You sense Sukuna spying on you and your book from the corner of your eye. However, the clever arrangement of words trailing above your bookmark helps you ignore him.  

“How do you read these things? That shit looks bigger than The Bible.” Sukuna pokes at the spine of your novel, trailing over the gold-engrained lettering.  

“I don’t judge stories based on length. If it’s engaging enough then I wouldn’t mind reading three hundred-plus pages of something.”  

“Where do you find the time to invest in a story that long?” Sukuna wasn’t even teasing at this point; he was genuinely curious.  

“People watch 10 seasons worth of television or animes with more than 100 episodes.”  

“Watching TV and reading are different no matter how much you try to make them feel the same. I can simply turn on the T.V. and watch 100 episodes of something without exerting much energy. You have to sit up, read so many words, and decipher hundreds of pages worth of story. It’s not the same.”  

“True, I’ll give you that. I just find it funny that people draw the line at consuming a story through reading only because you have to put a little more effort in it.” You bounced back.  

Sukuna rubbed his chin. “I remember being into poetry and haikus a lot as a teenager. But I started getting involved in other shit so I lost interest along the way.”   

You snap to him, no longer being a silent witness to a passionate kissing scene. “You like poetry?”  

“I suppose. I always liked how poets managed to craft thoughts so elegantly. Perfectly describing the complicated or unsaid.”  

“You know the local bookstore down the street has a whole section of poetry books. What’s your favorite poets? I could buy you some of their latest work.” Your comforter became a temporary bookmark with your book lying face down.  

“Hmm, I don’t really have a favorite poet. I used to buy a bunch of random poetry or haiku books and kept the ones that stuck with me. There is one writer that I really like though...”  

You wait in anticipation as you witness him in thought. Simple things like racking his brain makes him a cutie. Sukuna snaps his fingers.  

“Ahh, Yosa Takahama is his name. His work is usually written in Japanese but some translators re-publish them in their mother’s tongue. His work is hard to find around here though. I don’t even know how I managed to snag one of his books in the first place.”  

Despite the challenge, you were determined to get it for him. “I’ll figure out a way to get you one. That way we could be reading buddies.”  

“You don’t have to do all of that, doll. You’ll rip your hair out trying to find those books. I’m fine watching you ignore me in favor of a book that can knock your teeth out.” You chuckle.  

During the rest of the night, you noticed the boredom on Sukuna’s face as he mindlessly consumes television. The least you can do is try to hunt down this haiku book for him. Dating him for some time, he confessed to losing touch with so many hobbies he grew up with over the last few years. You wanted to bring that inner child back to life, killed by proving to the world how tough he was.  

Getting him to read something that actually interests him can be another way to embrace the innocent pleasures in life. You can tell he misses that wild delinquency some days, but you hope he doesn’t miss it enough to end this relationship over. If you can find it, hopefully it can be a building block that rebuilds his new path after leaving the old behind. Anything to help you be closer to him.  

6 weeks later 

Sukuna emerges from the bathroom. The odors of the food he cooked from his restaurant today were replaced with standard soap and his natural scent. Like every other night, you sat with your book, seemingly ignoring Sukuna’s lingering stare.  

After dressing himself, he sinks on the mattress and attempts to lay against his pillow. His thick neck isn't met with the soft cushion but instead a hard surface in the middle area. He stares at his pillow, offended for it not providing comfort, so he lifts it up. A white hardcover book reveals.  

“What’s this?” He asked, not turning to you yet. You shift from the words to your boyfriend’s confusion. “I don’t know where that came from. Maybe the book fairy paid you a visit.” You played dumb.  

“You’re so corny.” He holds up the book.  

“A corny girl you’ve been dating for almost a year now.”  

“Quiet. I’m trying to see what this is.” Sukuna didn’t even examine the title, the pages of the book flutter until he lands on a random page. He reads aloud.  

“Vindictive winter / A white, mighty rabbit looks / betrayed by the king / ...wait.” Sukuna looks at you and you copy his shocked expression.  

“This is Yosa Takahama’s stuff. How did you even get this? This must have cost you a fortune.”  

“It was costly and took me weeks to find a readable copy but the look on your face right now makes it worth it. I wanted you to read with me instead of being a T.V. zombie. Even if that means reading mind fuckery haikus.” You chuckle.  

Sukuna grabs your waist from the side and unleashes many wet pecks around your cheek, neck, and upper chest. You giggle as you brush his hair and hug him back.  

“I appreciate it.”  

“No big deal.” You replicate his cool cat version of “You’re welcome.” that he usually throws at you. Sukuna smirks at the playful imitation.  

The rest of the evening is spent with you two lost in your own worlds of literature. Your brains mixed imagination, broadened perspectives, and emotional intelligence from honeyed words inked against the white.

“I’m too big for this tub. You barely have any room to stretch your legs.” Sukuna commented.  

He adjusted his position behind you, the bubbles shifting from his large body. Your feet rested on the tip of the tub to keep from smushing against the porcelain. You turn to him, offering a reassuring smile. He snickers at your ridiculous face mask, particularly the cucumbers concealing your eyes.  

“No, you’re not. You say that every time you get in with me. You’re fine Kuna, really.”  

Sukuna rests his arms around the top edges of the tub, leaning back to make himself comfortable in his slightly cramped soak. The warm water, Epsom salt, and meditation music playing from your phone kneads away the hidden tension that plagues his body from the everyday.  

“Before I met you, I haven't taken a bath in almost fifteen years.” He confesses.  

“That sounds so disgusting out of context.” You cringe. Sukuna chuckles.   

“You know what I mean.”  

“I can’t imagine going that long without a bath. Baths are way better than showers.” You admitted.  

“Showers are for a quick wash. Baths are more for relaxation.”  

“I shower for fifteen minutes minimum, thirty-five minutes max. I spend about three minutes just letting the hot water hit my body and think about whatever. There’s no way I can just shower for ten minutes or less.”  

“Is that why you’re so smoking.” Sukuna flirted. You shake your head, “That was so corny, Kuna. C’mon you can flirt better than that.”  

“You’re right. I just wanted to see your reaction.”   

You two enjoy each other’s company. The heat protects you from winter and the sheet of bubbles float around and pop within. Sukuna arms lay over yours, rubbing over your wrist. Sukuna focuses on your face and develops a sense of mischief.  

“Babydoll.”  

“Yeah?”  

“Turn around for me.”  

You quirk a brow but obeyed by slowly turning his way. In a swift motion, Sukuna moves forward and bites off the cucumber sitting on your right eye. Your right vision sees Sukuna munching on your edible eye mask.  

“Really, Kuna? You couldn’t resist temptation to eat that?” You scolded. You take off the other cucumber, abandoning your hopes to keep your eyelids nice and fresh. Sukuna steals the other cucumber from your hand and flings it in his mouth.  

“You’re impossible to relax with sometimes.”  

“Thanks for the snack.” Sukuna mumbles through chewing.  

You sigh then lay against his chest and close your eyes. If he was going to interrupt your beauty routine the least he can do is be your pillow.

Sukuna big toe hugs your own after caressing your right foot. Both of your feet poke out from the thick blanket, suffering from the gentle lashes of the nippy air condition. You rest your head on his squishy but firm chest, goosebumps forming from his rough hands brushing your skin.   

“We should light the fireplace.” You suggested.  

Sukuna let out a lazy sigh, “What you really mean is that I should light it.”  

“Yeah, you should.”  

“I could but I fear I’ll turn into a popsicle.”  

You giggle. “Hey, at least you’ll taste good.”  

Sukuna smirks, “I already taste good. You should know out of anyone.”  

You playfully shrug. “Eh, you’re alright. No fine dining though.”  

“Oh really?”  

“Yep.”  

“How about you taste this then.”  

Sukuna leans down and traps your lips in the moment. His lips were smaller than yours yet they managed to govern the heat stirring between each lingering kiss. The frigid air in the room is forgotten in your minds as you and Sukuna make out under the grey blanket. After a couple minutes of sensual touching and lip pulls, Sukuna goes for your neck.  

“Well?” Sukuna lands soft bites inches under your chin.  

“I was just kidding earlier but that was...”  

“Better than fine dining?”  

“I don’t know what’s better than fine dining but, yeah, better than that.”  

Sukuna chuckles, “Glad to remind you.”  

Sukuna “accidentally” lands a hard bite just above your collarbone, caging a pleasured groan within closed lips. Sukuna kisses the forming red patch, “Sorry baby, got a little greedy there.”  

“I hope I give you a brain freeze.” You joked, trying to take your mind off the aching spot.  

Sukuna hooks his finger around the side of your silk underwear, his other hand slowly appreciates your ass. “I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

Your body slowly rocks on top of him, the yellow and orange from the fireplace illuminate your dips and curves. The aftershocks of your second orgasm calm down, giving you the signal to stop riding him. One hand caresses the trimmed hairs sprinkled across Sukuna’s chest. The other traces the small gold chain decorating his pecs. Sukuna squeezes the body fat from your hips then pats your left butt cheek.  

You hop off and lay down on the blanket you set down for your second round. Sukuna pulls off the condom and gets up to throw it away. The contained fire warms your naked body from a distance, defending you from the army of white cold. You hum while the fire entertains you until Sukuna comes back. He’s wearing the boxers he had on earlier with the embroidered knife patterns. Where he got those kinds of boxers you may never know.  

Sukuna drops the pillow he stole from the couch then sits down on the blanket. He pulls you towards him and you two lie down together. You perform his signature trait, pushing his hair back, enabling his wild look. Sukuna traces your spine, quietly admiring both how strong and weak one’s bone structure could be.  

“I never thought I would enjoy silly things like sitting in front of a fireplace during winter.”  

“It’s silly?”  

“Not really. I guess I just associated this with Christmas activities. Christmas always seemed too cheesy to me so I associated things like this as silly holiday stuff.”  

“Yeah, I get it. Sex in front of the fireplace, just silly wholesome Christmas activities.” You joked. You instantly felt Sukuna’s laughter rumble throughout his chest. After calming down he gives your arm a light pinch.  

“You know what I mean.”  

“I’m just happy you allowed me to bring some mellow in your life. I remember when I met you, you were always in some crazy illegal trouble. It seemed like I could barely keep up with you and your fast-paced lifestyle.”  

“Yeah, it was fun for a while, I’ll admit. Even getting caught had some sort of thrill. Now that I’m pushing thirty, I just feel over it.”  

You chuckle, “Not a spring chicken as you used to be.”  

“Yeah. I suppose every hot shot has their limit.”  

“Well, I’m proud that you’re beginning to settle down. I know your brother is too.” You rub his cheek.  

“I was surprised when he offered to help me set up my fight clubhouse. He’s usually against violence and shit.”  

“Maybe he thought that it would be a nice distraction from your life with crime. Even if it meant supporting you doing something he also doesn’t like. Like a lesser of two evils kind of thing.”  

“I never knew someone so predictable yet unpredictable at the same time more than him.” Sukuna said. You giggle then sprawl your hands across Sukuna’s abdomen, trailing over the ridges in a playful matter. Sukuna tender gaze studies your features as he softly pulls little cushions of your skin.  

“Thank you for sticking with me.”  

You look up to see the wild orange shadowing his strong features. His usual too cool-for-school attitude was replaced with a loving nature only reserved for you. A nature molded by small, seemingly insignificant moments sparked by a mutual agreement of casual dating. You plant a few kisses against his jawline then lay back on his chest.  

Before your eyes close for the night, you slur a few words that gets a smile out of Sukuna. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”  

[hemlock-dreams]

PleSe may I ask for a tiny morsel of the written word depicting bartender Petey taking care of business when some customers get too rowdy? Saw the "80s theme" and immediately thought he'd look amazing tossing out the trash (ideally covered in blood cause can't make an omelets without breaking eggs but bartenders don't tend to break faces sadly)

Here yo go! Have a snippet from the upcoming Chapter 2 of Pick Your Poison!! Hope you enjoy!!

------------

Wade sees Baby Boy snatch a bottle that comes flying at him out of the air without looking. 

Damn, they threw the thing at mach speed, too. Wade’s got to hand it to the kid; those are some impressive reflexes. He follows the easy catch by spinning the glass with enough flair to make a schoolgirl swoon, setting it against the bartop like he’s the main character.

The jackasses in the back don’t even notice, hauling each other over the tables in a messy, drunken sprawl. Wade hasn’t seen this much fumbling since prom night.

It’s embarrassing. He should do Weasel a favor (and indulge himself) by shooting them in the legs for interrupting plans between Wade and his future paycheck. But the look of intense concentration on Baby Boy’s face is distracting. That’s the furrowed brow of a man who is about to fuck around and find out.

Boo. Three more days and Baby Boy would have passed the cutoff mark. 

Wade usually likes hedging his bets on the underdog for the thrill, but four against one is bad odds for anyone who isn’t Deadpool, even a civvie with so many tough-guy tattoos. 

“And he was this close to being the final girl,” Wade mourns performatively, sparing a glance at Weasel to gauge how the man is feeling about the prospect of watching his civilian pet project get snapped in half. But the asshole just looks vaguely amused, which piques Wade’s interest.

So he turns back around just in time to watch Baby Boy march right into fucking around territory, straight up walking toward the group of heavily-armed mercs, no weapons, no foreplay, no nothing– just moxie.

Damn. He’s stupid. Wade likes that in a guy.

“Hey,” Baby Boy says, wrapping a hand around the leg of one wooden chair as the one with a bad haircut raises it over his head. 

Their kerfuffle is interrupted as four extremely drunk mercs with more bullets than brains pause to reorient their attention on Baby Boy.

“You know the rules. Sit down, or take it outside,” He continues, tugging on the chair like he’s trying to take it from an unruly toddler. 

There’s a collective laugh from all four bozos as they forget their beef to unionize against a new, soft, and squishy target.

“Oh yeah?” The short one smiles, revealing a row of really ugly teeth. Wade’s fist immediately itches to plant itself into that mouth, just for offending his eyes like that. “Who’s going to make us, you?” 

The edge of Baby Boy’s mouth curves, “If I have to,” he says, and it can’t be mistaken as anything but a taunt.

Bold move, Cotton. 

The rest of the bar, normally oblivious to a few broken pieces of furniture and some blood, takes notice of the audacity. Wade can practically hear eyeballs turning and the collective bating of breath. 

“That’s cute. He thinks he can take us.” Bad Haircut snickers, drunkenly swaying into the conversation. He gives Baby Boy a once-over, expression turning lewd, “Then again, maybe he can…in one of the back rooms.” 

“He does have bigger tits than most of the girls here,” His unfortunate-looking friend leers, staring at Baby Boy’s admittedly mouth-watering chest. Motherfucker is tall and top-heavy, built like a linebacker, invading the kid’s space like he’s looking for a touchdown if you get Wade’s drift. “Got a pretty face, too. What do you say, sweetheart? Why don’t we go to the back and we can apologize to you real good.”

Baby Boy’s hand constricts halfway into a fist before he forces it to relax. He looks like he’s barely holding himself back, and coin flip on whether this is going to be very funny or very sad, but either way, Wade’s on board to be entertained.

“Yo Weasel,” Ugly Smile calls out, eyes locked on Baby Boy, lurid and alcohol-glazed, “You mind if we take your bar boy for a spin?”

His grin promises an unpleasant time, but Wade isn’t worried. Maggie’s is a shithole for sure, with morals looser than Wade’s jaw, but some things are still too far. Not that it keeps these loser shitheads from defaulting to it when they need to compensate.

“You break it, you buy it,” Weasel replies gamely. Which, dang, cold. Always nice to be reminded why Wade kind of likes the guy. 

Baby Boy’s mouth twitches into a smile, and Wade’s entire body goes on alert, “Take the chair out of my rent, then.”

Ready, set, action. An invisible hand slams the clapboard, and everyone bursts into motion.

The chair in question swings and misses. Baby Boy fluidly sidestepping both Bad Haircut and his buddy, grabbing the support and using the momentum to hook the wooden back over Linebacker’s neck, flipping the chair and twisting both mercs like puppets before sending them crashing to the floor. 

Bad Haircut is scrambling up, but Linebacker is pinned to the floor by his chair necklace, anchored by Baby Boy’s leg as he presses down hard enough to snap the wood and drive the remaining air out of his lungs.

The bigger they are, the dumber they fall. Linebacker is immediately out for the count, but a broken chair is still useful, and Baby Boy is apparently the creative sort.

The snapped leg turns into a baton, and Baby Boy leisurely sways out of pistol-whipping range when Bad Haircut pulls out his gun, dancing back in to drive the splintered wood under the merc’s armpit on the outswing.

Screaming in pain, Bad Haircut stumbles back only for Baby Boy to grab his wrist and haul him forward, twisting his arm in a fancy maneuver that ends up with the gun on the floor and kicked safely out of reach.

Interesting.

Then it’s a pas de deux, with Baby Boy’s back against Haircut’s chest, using the impaled baton as leverage to toss the man over his shoulder and straight into Ugly Smile. 

The merc falls out of the way, only to run into Baby Boy’s fist as it buries deep in his guts. Even at a distance, Wade can hear his ribs break. Doubled over, Ugly Smile is coughing up blood and vomit when a tattooed hand cradles the back of his head and slams his mouth into the table once, twice, three times. Then it’s lights out.

It’s over almost as soon as it began, and as the dust settles, Wade is reevaluating the merits of his earlier bet. 

Yes, they were drunk, but Wade still expected it to be fast, if not messy. He hadn’t been counting on class. He hadn’t been counting on Baby Boy to be the one last standing, let alone to have shut them down so completely it barely merits the paragraph.

And the kid isn’t even done. He’s locked eyes with the fourth guy, jaw flexing like an attack dog straining against its leash, but the dumbass looks like he’s turned over a new leaf and become a law-abiding citizen in the few heartbeats it took Baby Boy to clean the floor with his buddies. 

When the guy doesn’t make a move, Baby Boy leans back, completely relaxed, eyes flat, no sense of triumph in the aftermath, just…disappointment– like he’d been craving something more and been left wanting.

Wade can’t resist a low, appreciative whistle, clocking the way Baby Boy’s entire body reacts to the sound. His head snaps in Wade’s direction, and the whole room vignettes as he stares Wade down, eyes flashing like he wants to crumble his spine like a cookie. 

Lust stabs Wade’s gut all the way to the hilt.

“Changed my mind, Weas,” Wade breathes, feeling the tension drain from the room and right into his dick. “You should keep him.”

[enteroctopusdarkysilis]

✨Kamino’s citadel challenge !✨

I am…very excited about this one. I’ve had this vision for a long time, and I’m so happy it’s ended up looking like that.

Now, there are a lot of things I’ll go into details along close ups under the cut; the only thing I’ll mention above is that I’m very grateful for TCW’s episode guides’ artworks, without which this would have been quite a hassle.

Okay ! Before diving into all the details and things, here is a view from above, to really display how big it is. Dimension-wise, the plank I built it on is around 110*70cm.

Now of course, the first detail which is noticeable is the floor, because, well, it’s everywhere.

This was probably the most challenging part of the build, because making a grid out of Lego is tough. Most of it is rows and rows of dark square, light lines, separated by 1*n tiles. It was the easiest way to get this pattern with as if it were just tiles; because this is one of the objectives I had here : most of this MOC is smooth, except for a few zones (usually voluntarily).

The fact I used this technic means that the floor in most place isn’t very stable, but it actually holds up pretty well because of some hidden connection points with the foundations underneath, which are mostly hidden under the cover blocks.

Here for instance, I’m using modified 1*2 bricks with a Technic hole : it hold the cover block, and it also attaches the floor to the foundation.

Of course, another problem I ran into were slopes. Much harder to get a smooth effect with the technic I’ve used, so it’s a bit wonky and unstable. Also, most them are not aligned properly, which is visible in the picture above (and some area have some really big misalignments because of a few problems I probably won’t bore anyone reading this with).

Now, since they’re also here, I can deal with the cover blocks. These were, among the details, the hardest to figure out, to get a good size while keeping some texture. Eventually I came up with this design, which, ironically enough, uses the same technic the floor uses, in a different orientation.

Another detail : the miradors :

This is one of the first elements I had in place, because I needed them to get a good sense of scale (and was made better by an existing concept art of a tower alone). Most of it does not have anything noteworthy, except for one illegal technic I used (can you spot it ?)

The pillar holding the roof of the mirador is using a technic I had in my toolbox for a long time, but had never had the occasion to use : if you take two 'brick' bricks and attach them perpendicularly on a snot brick, the small space separating the lines of 'bricks' align to let a 1*n tile in. It’s somewhat reliable (for an illegal technic) and an easy way to get octogonal shapes.

Now, before looking at the Citadel itself, let’s turn around for a minute.

This point of view obviously isn’t the intended one, but it’s still worth noting, if only for some composition.

Notice that the wall here is quite small (smaller than the miradors, even), and light gray; it’s in contrast with the towering dark gray wall on the other side, behind the citadel, which technically should give at least some impressions even to the people who never saw TCW.

Anyway, it’s also on this view that we can see most of my slope struggles, including the central one, which is the biggest I had to do.

And I can’t not mention the most important element :

What would be the challenge without a squad of clones to take it on ? These clones (4 privates and a sergent) are ready to fight ! Well. Kinda. I wish I could have actual cadets, but they are not part of the Lego universe (and the floor was enough of a fee, I can’t afford to get customs figures too). I wish I had the Dominos though. I have TBB Echo, and I plan to get my hands on Fives at some point, but they wouldn’t fit here, sadly, so instead I used some movie accurate clones (because all the others are used for a project I still haven’t posted..maybe later…)

Notably, I at some point tried to get the elevator to work - needless to say it was a disaster (it’s too close to the plate underneath to make something working).

Now, without further ado. The citadel.

I’m very proud of it. I got the proportions just right (I actually made some measurements to make sure of it), and there is just enough texture to not make it bland while leaving it as artificial. This alone took roughly 8-10h (which were all spent during an accidental all nighter, whoops), but it was worth it. It’s completely empty inside, and, in fact, the wall behind it isn’t full as well, anything behind the citadel is opened. The spikes are simple 1*3 angle plates illegally connected, and the walls’ small details were made with a bunch of modified 1*2 plates, there isn’t anything really special in it.

The only really complicated zone was the middle tower, because I had to put all the cannons while keeping it clean and smooth, and including the vertical lime lines. It was a fun challenge. And I included the 'flag' At the top, too, just a red transparent cone on a stick (there’s no need for more), which peeks above the gray wall (for composition and because of a lack of pieces).

Anyway, such a long project deserves one behind the scene photo :

Yes, my desk is messy (and include my mandatory tea cup).

On the left, you can see my remaining floor tiles, which have not been used yet; and just under the citadel, you might notice the foundations visible; it’s a checker of 2*2 tiles which gives my floor a good base to be fixed on. There are also some slopes which haven’t been placed yet (in front of the background miradors), and at this steps, there were no cover blocks or walls yet.

As far as my tools go, you might notice brick separators scattered all around my work environment (I never have enough of those), as well as a tablet in the bottom right hand corner (which i use to check and measure concept arts), and in the middle, the red triangle is an official (albeit old) Lego measurement tool which counts in stud, Lego bar holes and axe length.

Also visible, finally, is the bottom of the foundations, which are stacks of 1*2 bricks (each of the three floor layer is separated by a height of 3 bricks), which means that looking directly under it can lead to watching the dark basement of my build (which isn’t aesthetic…).

Anyway, if you read until here, thanks, I guess ? I still have a few TCW related stuff (a small one next week, some other in the foreseeable feature), so feel free to stick around and maybe leave a note, if you feel like it ? That’s it, bye !

[bloodchapell]

he loves to hear you yap - armin a.

brief summary: just thinking about how cute armin is and him loving to listen to EVERY word you say

what to expect: alt and very nerdy reader, equally nerdy armin, mutual pinning

your sword’s note: really just thinking of how attentive and good of a listener he would be and I ACHE for it. all past and future parts of this au series available in my mistresslist

A month or so had passed since the semester started. Normally after philosophy class you would go to the library with Armin. He had convinced you to play Minecraft and you had convinced him to play Dress to Impress.

“Agh!!!” You screamed and turned off your iPad.

“Shut the hell up!” Pieck, your roommate, yelled at you.

“Sorry I forgot that not all of us have to wake up at 6 am to deliver a calf…” You apologized and she sighed.

“I will say the same when you are trying to finish up some jacket or whatever it is that fashion designers do.” She joked half asleep. “Why did you scream either way? The Sleeping Beauty nightmare again?”

“That is a very serious nightmare!” You argued. “No it wasn’t that, Armin just gifted me VIP in Dress to Impress…”

“That is so cute… now get married and let me go back to sleep, that 75 pound baby calf isn’t going to deliver itself.”

<WHATTT THANKS MIN😭> you. 2:47 am

<YPU DIDNT HAVE TO YOURE SO SWEET> you. 2:47 am

<It’s okay! I just really liked your vkei theme outfit and was very conflicted when seeing that you didn’t win… They really should made an “only pros” server, these people do not know what vkei is.> armin 👼🏼. 2:48 am

That made you laugh. He had only learned about vkei the day before, when you guys hanged out and he asked what vkei entailed.

After some more rounds of playing, you decided it was time to go to sleep, you said good night to Armin and left the electronics in the table by your bed. But before you could actually fall asleep your mind stared thinking about Armin. The wandering thoughts regarding the blonde would fall like a current that cannot be stopped, the way in which his hands would softly write in his notebook and his handwriting was so small and dainty, the way in which his slender fingers would hold the black pen, the way he would always pay attention and participate in class, his comments always so educated, organized and concise, like he had some inside knowledge and some inside understanding about it all; yes he was a little timid regarding social interactions, but when it came to scholarly matters, he was an eminence and his words would flow out of his pretty plump pale pink lips like it was just any other topic. He was so smart and so attractive when rambling about the ambiguity of morals and religion and science and politics, his bangs and longish hair framing his face and his lashes deepening the gaze of his eyes. Goddamnit was he handsome.

“Is Malice Mizer not on Spotify?” With his phone in hand Armin asked in class the next day, following like a robot Eren’s recommendations on how to behave normally when having such a fat crush.

“How do you know that?” You asked whispering in class.

“I liked the songs you showed me.” He mentioned still holding his phone. Your heart almost ran out of your chest when hearing that; not only he he understood vkei fashion to know that the fellow Dress to Impress players were ass, but was also interested in it beyond what you had explained.

And he was interested, not only because he would have the opportunity to have a topic of conversation with you, but because he trusted in your judgement so much that he understood that if you liked vkei as a subculture, it was for a valid and good reason and therefore he must check it out.

“Yeah sadly they are not in Spotify… I can recommend you some other bands if you want though.” You said and he nodded immediately, saying he would be delighted. You typed Sito Magus, SHAZNA, Gulu Gulu, Kaya and MEJIBRAY on his notes app. “Some of them can be a little heavy, I don’t know if you like that.”

“I don’t mind.” He smiled sweetly; he didn’t really mind because he was used to Eren and Mikasa blasting death black evil obscure metal.

Armin was trying his absolute best to not dissolve into a mass of anxiety and embarrassment, he kept thinking about every recommendation Eren gave him and even though sometimes it seemed like nothing he could do was powerful enough to mask his feelings, he trusted logic and knew that up to a point it could work.

"You said you had a playlist with all your favorite songs ever right? Can we listen to them together while you explain to me why you like them maybe?" He asked impulsively without stopping to think, almost immediately regretting the request before seeing your eyes glimmering like eyes do in cartoons and seeing you nod. Truth be told he was also fascinated with the way you spoke about your interests, you were so passionate and analytic of the things you liked that he could be convinced to do almost anything if you described it like you do with the things you love.

So after class you invite him to your dorm and you both sit on the carpeted floor while you go over every song and he listens to your comments and tries to hear the songs as beautifully as you do.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Guarding your name from the fae in folklore

The idea of fae stealing names is quite recent (I’m a big fan of new, modern folklore, x, y), but the idea that you have to guard your name so no one could (supernaturally) us it against you, is definitely a widespread folk belief. However, I’ve never encountered an actual folktale that says the fae or fairies in particular could have power over you if they knew your name. I’ve been looking for one for a long time (and if you know one please let me know!) but so far I’ve only come up with one example. So let's take a look:

The power of names

Like I said, the power of names is an old belief that shows up all over the world. Sometimes it’s linked with naming ceremonies like baptism. Sometimes hiding the name from others (witches, djinns, etc.) is what will protect you, sometimes the name itself will protect you (like being named after a saint or in reverence of a deity or spirit). Edward Clodd published a huge essay in 1898 investigating how widespread this name guarding practice is and how it links to folklore. Which, while obvioulsy dated, certainly gives an impression of how deep this belief goes (Tom Tit Tot; an essay on savage philosophy in folk-tale, Clodd, E., 1898).

Not all folk beliefs show up in folktales though and protagonists who refuse to tell their name are not a staple of European folklore, whether it concerns fae or other entities. In “The Soul Cages”, collected by T. Crofton Croker it’s even quite the opposite, as the protagonist and a firendly merrow deliberately call each other by their full names (Jack Dogherty and Coomara). And for ages I wasn't able to find a story that actually incorporated the belief of guarding your name against fae, until I read that huge essay.

Hiding your name from the fairies

In his book, Clodd mentions a single folktale in which it is mentioned that the fae are trying to learn someone’s real name. Sadly he does not tell it in full, but since it is the only real example of this concept I’ve able to find so far, I will give the full quote:

While these sheets are passing through the press, my friend Mr. W. B. Yeats hands me a letter from an Irish correspondent, who tells of a fairyhaunted old woman living in King's County. Her tormentors, whom she calls the "Fairy Band of Shinrone," come from Tipperary. They pelt her with invisible missiles, hurl abuse at her, and rail against her family, both the dead and the living, until she is driven well-nigh mad. And all this spite is manifested because they cannot find out her name, for if they could learn that, she would be in their power. Sometimes sarcasm or chaff is employed, and a nickname is given her to entrap her into telling her real name, — all which she freely talks about, often with fits of laughter. But the fairies trouble her most at night, coming in through the wall over her bed-head, which is no laughing matter; and then, being a good Protestant, she recites chapters and verses from the Bible to charm them away. And although she has been thus plagued for years, she still holds her own against the "band of Shinrone." (Clodd, 1889, p. 83-84).

This story fits the concept of keeping your name away from malicious fairies so you cannot truly fall under their power perfectly. Sadly I haven’t been able to find this story in Yeats’ own folklore collection, but it fulfills my criteria even so.

What I have been able to find many examples of, however, is the reverse trope. Namely that knowing a fairy’s name will give you power over them. I thought this only showed up in Rumplestiltskin-type stories, but it seems a little more widespread than that. Which is very exciting to me, and merits its own post. So stay tuned.

[shiki-jin]

YOUR CELESTIAL MAJESTY • SAGAU

(part 0 here)

was listening to TruE on loop while writing the last part of this, it's genuinely such a good song ugwvdya

also can you spot the contradiction ;D it's plot relevant i promise

not proofread, dont bully me ill write a thesis on why youre a meanie

—

you had long deleted genshin, since you had other things to do. you had wanted to go back to the game for a while now, now that you were less busy, but there was just one little problem.

it was now taking up nearly triple the amount of space that it was when you uninstalled it. around 300 whole gigabytes.

jesus christ, what phone can even handle this???

your phone, apparently. because as you opened the game to see if maybe a miracle would happen and that if maybe they would just, like, remove half of the things in the game, it just… kinda loaded?

no installing new files, no checking for anything, no nothing…. just an immediate pan to the gates of celestia.

you decided to check if it was the right genshin since this was just way too weird, but countering your judgement, every link you found led you to the same game, leading you to believe it not to be a bootleg or an illegal version.

guess i’ll trust it then.

you clicked on the gates which opened smoothly, and your screen turned white. then, the symbols of the seven elements appeared in gray.

and then the game just… opened. no loading time, once again. no getting stuck on the geo symbol, nothing. nada. just a smooth entrance into what you had to assume to be teyvat — but your surroundings didn't really support that claim.

the grass was brown and just looked off, the sky was gray. a darker shade than, say, mond’s walls, but it was like one of those game crashes.

well, except you could still move around.

you moved your current character around (the traveller? since when were they the only one in your team?) and decided to open the map after not figuring out where you could possibly be.

hold on, this is springvale? since when?

eveything looked dead, like it had been rotting for a century. you tried to ignore it though, and teleported to the inside of mondstadt. surely this was just some glitch, right? one that would fix itself if you teleported?

maybe the world loaded incorrectly, maybe the fact that nothing took time to load meant that it couldn't load, maybe this or that, maybe…

maybe this really was how the game looked normally. you hadn't done any quests though, so you wondered if it could be restored.

you took a screenshot of the your surroundings — the stone, worn down and dirty. the houses which looked to be in a horrible state, and… the npcs, all sickly and pale, like they were starving.

you went to reddit (yes, reddit), and posted the screenshot, asking if it was normal.

you closed the game and decided to take a nap, too tired to really deal with this shit any further.

while you slumbered, people replied to your post.

╰┈➤ lol me too anon, me too

╰┈➤ isn't the game closed or wtv? how'd you get this wtf

╰┈➤ they're trolling

╰┈➤ o makes sense oops

╰┈➤ So we’re all still mourning huh

╰┈➤ jokes aside that's a super impressive edit ngl

you remained unaware of the truth, but you'd find out soon enough.

actually, you'd find out now, apparently…

what the fuck?? why is my bed so hard now?

you groaned and forced your eyes open, seeing a dark, nearly black sky.

the only light was a single star, lingering right above you.

“since when was i outside...?"

a voice spoke to you, answering your question.

“you always have been, have you not? but would you like to head inside, my lord?”

... huh? i recognize that voice...

—

p.s. place your bets on who it is, i’m thinking of one specific character but if there's a fan fav i'll make it them instead since i haven't written anything beyond this point (⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠;⁠)

p.s.s. don't expect updates to this series too quickly, i wish i could write as quick as i think of ideas but sadly that's not the case orz

[brailsthesmolgurl]

'BLIND' DATE

Preview: After the end of a situationship, you had mustered up the courage to go out on a blind date to finally settle down. But what if, your date happens to be the guy you were in a relationship with?!

Warnings: Angst that is gonna hurt you in your meow meow, Fluff that shall heal the hurt in your meow meow. Mild-implied smexy scenes.

Divider is credited here!

Staring at your own reflection in the mirror, you utilised your 20/20 vision to scan every part of your body, to ensure that you look the best you had been since the last parting with Rafayel. Yes, y/n is finally ready to crawl out of her wailing dungeon to go on a date with a potential boyfriend. A guy whom you had met on some dating website--that you had downloaded out of the blue--had asked you out on a date.

Your gaze paused at your wrist, the bangle that wrapped loosely around your wrists casted a frown on your face. There is no way you are going to wear something your supposed-ex had given to you a long time ago. You see, Rafayel and you had never been exclusive anyways, although a huge part of you wished that the both of you would gravitate towards being more than friends.

But that wish of yours simply stayed as a wish, till the day it was crushed by Rafayel telling you that he does not see himself in relationships due to how demanding he can be in one; be it physical or mental. He clearly has a reason of his own but you could not seem to see it from his two sense and so, a stupid argument erupted which led you to your confession and with him standing in shocked. However, he decided to add fuel to the fire and dismissed your liking towards him and off you went. Not even turning your head back at once.

It has been months from then, no form of contact was initiated between the both of you. Mostly you blocking him off of your social media and contact lists and beelining only on your own self-recovery. Life was pretty banal for you till you stumbled upon this user on your dating app, who is in search of a partner. This app only allows you to get to know the person via texting, all of their information such as gender, MBTI, Blood Type, Likes and Dislikes etc were shown except for their looks and name. It is an app that prides itself on making matches purely based off of one's personality rather than looks.

Perhaps, this is a fresh start for you. The guy you had been chatting with so far has left a good impression with you, sharing same perspectives, telling humourless dad jokes (that you sadly fell for all the time, smiling behind the screen like a fool), flirtatious and incredulously charming. For a glimpse, you thought it was Rafayel given the similarities of their spelling errors in their texts yet you figured well enough that this may not be the same guy afterall since this one is searching for a serious relationship. Flirtatious texts do not die off easily as one may think and this situationship of yours with this mysterious man named ‘Turtleboi’ had fluorished so much within the span of a few months that it got you to thoroughly consider going out to meet him.

Flashing back to the texts where he had asked you out on a date, you could not help but to blush at the thought of it. The way he proposed for a date was exactly how you figured, or wished Rafayel would have done it to you and it goes something like this:

𝗦𝗼, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘂𝗽𝗰𝘂𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘆.

𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗲.

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲. 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂??

𝗔 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸?

𝗜 𝗯𝗲𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿, 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗼𝗰𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀! 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁, 𝗹𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗵, 𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿, 𝘁𝗲𝗮 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴!

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬. 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲.

𝗢𝗵 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆, 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀.

Your hands would not stop trembling, the atmosphere of the fine dining restaurant eerily colder than ever. It was however, a restaurant that you would never step foot into given its prestige. Not that you have the sort of funds to spend it on fresh seafood here when bulk, half-par seafood you can purchase from any supermarkets is a huge bang to your buck. Maybe it is the way the lights barely glowed in this private room as well, causing the velvet scarlet walls to take form of the insides of a belly, enveloping you within its grasp and that is the moment you know that you are way too nervous for a date as such.

You fumbled with your fingers, dazing off with your eyes trained on your bodycon dress as you stayed sat on your plush dining seat. The restaurant should be sued for having such comfortable seats as you might actually consider stopping by just to nap on the seats rather than have a meal here. With you being such a nervous wreck, your last bit of conscience took over and you started to grab your clutch, already aiming to leave at the very last minute before you are about to meet this guy.

Your conscience speaks of your deepest insecurities and you know why you would want to back out at the last moment. Your insecurities are consuming you at this very moment. Maybe you did not have the adequate amount of time to heal from Rafayel’s rejection and it led you to believe that you probably should not be in a a relationship until the day you can forget about Rafayel. You got up and made your way towards the door only for it to be swung open in front of you and your eyes widened in shock, fascination, horror, and all kinds of emotions that you had never felt before. But most likely had gotten it bottled up, sealed closed and stuffed into the darkest corners of your memory closet.

“IT’S YOU?!” You could not help the rise of volume in your voice, the scrunched eyebrows of frustration, the gritting of teeth that tightened your jaw, the heartbeat that you could only achieve after a marathon and your trembling hands that would very much like to cross jab towards his face. Rafayel’s handsome face. His nebulic eyes formed beads on his pinched face, question marks littered all over his face, his form a bit more frail than you had last remembered but he still is looking like a living, breathing art piece. And you curse yourself for that thought despite your current state.

“I guess it is me.” The artist recollected himself, readjusting the flaps of his blazer and he stood up straight again, his facial features setting back to their own neutral position again. Now he looks like those marble statues of famous people, not smiling, but just introductory. He gestured at the room and you sighed, knowing that it would be even more rude to walk out now so you turned and sat back at your seat. “You look nice today, y/n.”

Your silence and ennui attitude made it clear that you did not want to be anywhere near him and he was quick to read the room, choosing to take the seat right next to you when the table can fit up to 15 guests and the most ideal seat would be the furthest one away from you. “Let’s get this over with.” You avoided his gaze when you spoke. Being enthralled with his beauty is the last thing you wish for right now, let alone being in a room with him.

“Alright then, don’t mind me treating this like an actual date then.” He shrugged off his blazer, revealing the formal white formal button-up shirt beneath and his slender digits went up to unbutton the top two buttons, revealing more of his Adam's apple. Damn. "It is a fair night to be acquainted by you Miss Y/n. I hope this dinner shall not disappoint you in considering me to be your boyfriend."

How did you not realised? No, how did you not trust your own gut? The nonchalance, the flirts, the typos, it was all pointing towards Rafayel but why did you not buy it? "What made you changed your mind about being in a relationship Rafayel?" You finally lifted your head off of the floor, but was only able to look at his Adam's apple as you spoke. Damn.

"You know." Rafayel uncorked the bottle of champagne and started pouring it into the champagne flutes. The gold liquid sloshed around as it got emptied from the bottle, almost sparkling under the shine of the chandelier. "It was a bit of a brutal brulesque for my mind. I had to strip down what I had fundamentally believed in, set away my ego for a while to give whatever a relationship is, a try it deserves."

Your eyes blinked rapidly a few times and you silently thanked him as he passed you the champagne flute. It smelled of honeysuckle, with a mixture of grapefruit and lychee. It is your first time drinking a champagne afterall. "Why did you consider it only after I had left?" You took a small sip, the cold liquid kisses your lips before gliding down your throat and leaving a sweet and fruity trail in its wake.

The champagne in Rafayel's flute failed to meet his lips as he drew back his arms in midair to answer your question, his eyes lost a bit of a glimmer when he reminisced the bitter thought. The expensive stalk twirled between his thumb and index finger, his gaze following the tiny movements. "Maybe, I wanted to try it with you instead." He was cool-headed when he spoke, the sweetness of the champagne may not even be a cure to the taste of bile he is feeling in his thorax. "I got the app because I figured maybe I could try it on some nobody before I get to you finally."

"So...you wanted to try it with someone you barely knew?" Your eyebrows frowned, just like your lips and you caught his eyes, which were already trained on you. It has been quite a while since you had seen a pair of eyes so beautiful. The last you recalled a pair of great colours would be an old lady whom sat down to have a chat with you while you were enjoying the sunset by the park. You remembered her eyes clearly, both sparkled a close resemblance to amethyst stones. Perhaps, a swatch of pink would be more of a familiar gaze. And now you are met with those familiar windows of one's soul.

"You could put it that way, but I was only prepping myself for you." He cleared his throat and finally drank, downing his drink in one go and refilling it almost immediately. Although looking nonchalant, the man cursed himself for not pacing his words well.

"And you thought breaking someone's heart for a stupid experiment of yours is a great idea?" You voiced in bruquesness, reproachful even. "I think I should leave." You pushed your chair back, the carpeted floors silenced the protesting screeches of the heavy chair. Snagging your clutch off of the chair, you turned towards the door and careened over to the exit.

A strong grip settled onto your wrist and you were tugged back in an instant. Rafayel was up and off of his seat, holding onto your wrist and making use of his larger body to entrap you against the wall. Your height only allows you to extend all the way to his collarbone. His cologne ambushed you as well, a waft of sea salt and bergamot. His signature scent. You snapped yourself back to reality by chewing onto the insides of your cheek, nagging yourself to not be tempted. "Who said I was going to break their heart hmm?"

"It's not like you get to know who is behind the texts on that stupid dating app." Your face reddened, the warmth of it easily being the heater to warm up the chilled room. "All the more reason for you to just settle temporarily and move on if things don't go your way." His other hand snaked around behind your back, his touch blazing a hot track against your covered skin. Your bodycon dress not exactly the thickest material to fend off physical touches. He wrapped his arm around the lower of your back and pushed you further up against the wall and you gasped when his nose tip came in contact with the top of your head.

"I would not do that, because I chose wisely." You can feel his arm tightened his grip around you and he pulled back slightly, the chandelier's glow formed a soft outline for his figure. "And I had a strong hunch, the person I am interested in, is you." The hand that was previously holding your wrist, came to pepper your cheek with featherlight touches. You looked like a porcelain doll to him, too hard of a touch and you might just crumbled, like how you did in front of him last time. Your abjection made his heart ached and hence the mindset change.

The tips of both of your noses touched as he lowered himself a little, a gesture he usually do when he hugs you last time in respect of your smaller size. It was adorable till it lasted, but now, in this moment, it still is an adorable detail that does not go amiss. "How...did you knew...it was me?" Your curiosity got the best of you, and you just got to be greedy and to sought for the answer. "There are just as many other candidates out there, that could be me."

"The story you told me of the turtle." His eyes wandered, from your left eye to your right, then down to your lips and back up again. He is using the triangle method, yes. "I had never told anyone other than you and Thomas, and my aunt who has been with me for as long as I could remember." His username 'Turtleboi' was what prompted you to narrate a story to the anonymous fellow about how a 'guy friend' of yours befriended a turtle during one of his sea adventures. The intricate details and all were told as how you remembered Rafayel reciting them to you. So, that was what sold you off apparently.

You could feel your weight started to shift, the embarassment-o-meter going past its threshold when you realised that Rafayel has gotten you wrapped around his fingers. You wanted to scamper with your tail, or head, buried in between your legs but with your current position, it seemed impossible to escape. "I...I just didn't thought you would--"

"I love you y/n." Interrupted by the man, you felt a finger lifted your chin up and a pair of soft, pillowy lips touched your lips. Your very first kiss, taken in a fine dining seafood restaurant, by a man who had rejected you but oddly rejoiced with you again via a dating app. The kiss ended when you were about to close your eyes and you see Rafayel leaning back slightly, Adam's Apple bobbed once while he gulped down what is possibly nervousness of his own. His diffidence disappeared alongside his gulp and he smiled at you. "This relationship deserves to be given a chance, yeah?"

The sincerity his gaze holds got you good. You smoothed your hands up his taut chest, feeling his pectorals beneath your touch and you locked eyes with him, a smile of solace settled on your lips. "I forgive you Rafayel. And...I love you too." The both of you were leaning in for another kiss before the door opened with a thud and startled the both of you, causing Rafayel to pull you into his arms tightly, shielding you away from any potential threats but the young waiter stood in the doorway, a tray held in front of him, ready to serve the appetiser.

"You may come back later." Rafayel was quick to dismiss the tomato-faced waiter while rubbing small soothing circles on your back as your cheeks laid dormant on his chest. Once the door closed with a thud, Rafayel turned back to you, and lifted your chin once again. "Now, let's not let someone else ruin our relationship yeah?" And he presses his lips onto you again.

A beautiful idea from one of my readers and also a writer whom I look up to greatly. Thanks for requesting me to write this, I had fun burning some of the midnight oil to finish this piece @xvysarene <3! Do support her works as well!

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XXV

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. Drinking is mentioned, Satoru is ooc and a bit mean. Umm... I don't know. If you think of anything, let me know.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI, Part XXII, Part XXIII, Part XXIV

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“Are you sure you don’t want some company? You look kind of…” Haruki did not finish that sentence, but you could guess what he meant.

Affected? Dumbfounded? Hurt? I am, all of those.

After your argument with Satoru, both of you had returned to the table looking gloom and shaken, and none of you had had the stomach to try the dessert after all.

Out of decency, Satoru had not made any excuses to leave early. But his eyes did not meet yours for the rest of the night, alternating between Haruki, Shoko, and the dessert he would push around over his plate but would not eat. And just like you, he had lost all will to chat with the rest. Then he had said his goodbyes quickly and left you all standing on the street outside the restaurant.

After you accompanied Shoko part of the way in the direction of her house, Haruki had insisted on walking you home.

Now you were standing in front of the closed door to your apartment with concerned hazel eyes trying to decipher what was going through you head.

“I guess I could not impress your friends, could I?” he asked, testing your mood.

You still did not look at him when you replied “You didn’t do so bad. Shoko was quite pleased.”

It was true. Even if the mood had become awkward towards the end of the night, you could tell Shoko had apparently enjoyed herself for a while.

“But Gojo wasn’t… It must have been quite a chat if it let you both that quiet.”

You knew there was no hostility in his tone, but it still reminded you of everything Satoru had told you.

“Is it because…?”

“Why did you have to…?”

Both of you had spoken at the same time, but when Haruki’s eyes connected with yours, he knew the answer to the question he had not finished. “So, it is because of what I said that Gojo got so weird. Am I right?”

He sighed.

It was not like you to look for someone to blame, and in all honesty, you could probably blame yourself for most of what had happened, but…

“He got the impression you and I have something, and now he thinks I was toying with him.”

He figured it had been something like that. He had felt like Gojo was mentally throwing daggers at him when he finally returned to the table and set his eyes on him.

“I’m sorry...” Haruki’s eyes showed genuine regret. “I guess I got petty. The other night, when you told me you felt he actually likes you, and that you wanted to give him a chance…” He smiled sadly. “...I felt happy for you, really. But when I saw him tonight, and the way he looks at you, I realized I would have to let you go.”

He had never seen it up-close, the way you and Gojo orbited around each other; how any of you would say something and immediately look at the other as if waiting for their reaction, the looks and smiles between the two revealing the complicity shared, like a dance you were the only ones who knew the steps of, a synchronized waltz perfected through the years.

You leaned against the door and looked down. “He hates me now though.”

Haruki leaned his side against the wall, looking at you. “You know,” there was a slight change in his remorseful tone from before, “when I was in high school, I was working parttime at this coffee shop, and one day during cashier duty, I spotted this person in the line and immediately felt like I needed to know them. I could have just given them their order and taken their money, but I asked them about the keychain dangling from their bag.”

I remember.

“I’ve never once regretted it,” he said looking into your eyes. “They turned out to be fun and smart, and made me so happy during a time when I was so miserable at home. I even felt a bit jealous of the friends who got to see them every day, and of that Satoru they talked so much about, and who obviously had loved them long before I even met them.”

Right, even back then, you would constantly mention Gojo during your outings. You had thought it was just natural for friends to talk so much about each other, to be constantly reminded of your bond, to see something and wonder if Satoru would like it, eat it, what would he think of it, and the need to share anything you found enjoyable with him.

‘Satoru would say this is not sweet enough.’

‘Satoru likes this anime too.’

‘The other day, Satoru said…’

Looking back at it, maybe you had fallen for him long before your lips touched his.

“I am sure he still feels the same,” Haruki said almost in a whisper as he reached for your face.

Looking at you, Haruki wondered what would have happened if you two had had more time. Would he have had a chance if you had met at a different stage in life? Would you have still drifted apart if your time had not been cut short when you were younger? If only he had met you sooner or maybe later than that hot summer that persuaded you to enter the air-conditioned coffee shop where he was working to escape the heat for a few minutes, would things have been different?

No... It is unfair to blame timing.

Those few minutes making small talk with you stretched into one of the happiest seasons of his youth. He did not want to change it, and hoped you did not either, even if the period when he could hope for anything more than friendship had come to an undeniable end.

“And you and him will sure have many more happy seasons together,” he said before pressing a caste kiss on your cheek and embracing you.

To you and Haruki, this was his way of saying goodbye to the possibility of anything else between you and him, an amicable end to a bright summer.

Unfortunately, to the white-haired man standing farther away in the hallway, who had not heard his words but witnessed his actions, although unnoticed by any of you, it felt like the end of the world he had been living in for the last few weeks.

***

If anyone had told Yaga that hiring two of his own former students as teachers would make his life this hard, he would have decided against it from the start.

Gojo was MIA, and he had had to call a substitute to cover for him. And then, there was you, who while physically present before your students, did not look as focused as usual.

You had taken your class to the training grounds for an improvised training outside, or that was what you were telling to Principal Yaga.

“I didn’t think ‘improvised’ was your teaching style, [name],” Yaga said while observing your students. “That’s more like Satoru’s.”

“I suppose,” you agreed, trying to ignore the painful feeling hearing his name caused.

Yaga glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Your face was turned to the training grounds ahead of you, but a look into your eyes would easily reveal your mind was somewhere else.

As your former mentor, Yaga usually trusted your teaching methods and knew better than to pry on your personal business, so he opted for letting it is slip.

“Now, about Satoru, you wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you?”

That question seemed to briefly pull your mind from wherever it was, and Yaga saw you focus on the kids running around in the field and shake your head lightly. “No, I haven’t heard of him.”

Nothing since that night.

“What a way to slack off,” Yaga grumbled. “I’ll have Ijichi pay him a visit.”

Despite your low spirits, that thought amused you.

Poor Ijichi; he had been your junior in high school, and while he had become a reliable assistant, still looked up to you and Shoko. You suspected he held some of the same respect for Gojo, and that may be why he put up with his antics so much. That did not mean that Satoru had stopped treating him as his underclassman, though.

Even if he can find Satoru, he will be lucky if he can talk any reason into him and drag him to the school.

“Right, why don’t you go instead?”

Yaga was looking at you, waiting for your answer.

Had you said that aloud?

“Me?" you asked. You? Reach out to Satoru, after everything that had happened? "I can’t.. I mean, I have to watch my students.”

Lame excuse, and by the way Yaga kept his eyes on yours, you could tell he knew it was just that, an excuse.

Of course, he probably was not caught up with all the drama between you and Satoru, so he did not see any issues with his request.

“You mean the students who are about to shot us an arrow?”

“What…?”

You did not have time to finish the question when indeed, and arrow infused with curse energy flew by between you and Yaga followed by the gasps and ‘watch out’ screams of the kids.

You looked at them in disbelief and yelled, “I said no cursed tools for now! Put that away.”

Their obedience probably was motivated by Principal Yaga’s stern watch on them rather that your scolding.

“Sure, you may need to keep a sharper eye on them.” The principal’s expression was a severe as always, but you thought you saw the ghost of a smile on his face. “Check on Satoru later, alright? And tell him that he should pass by my office when he finally decides to grace us with his presence.” Now his tone had been a bit more serious.

With that, Yaga left.

Only once he was out of your sight, he allowed himself to smile more openly, remembering a certain group of students who had done their own fair share of mischief back in the day. Not that he would not give one of them a good scolding for skipping work though.

***

“Hello?” you asked, cautiously stepping into Gojo’s apartment.

You had knocked, many times actually, but there had been no response.

He had missed the whole workday at the school; as far as you knew from the assistants, he not been sent on any missions, and even Shoko had confirmed not having communicated with him at all that day.

He had not responded to your texts or calls, so you did the one thing you had been hoping to avoid all day: going to his place.

After some awkward minutes knocking on his door, you decided the situation was getting concerning and took out the emergency spare key you had to Satoru’s apartment.

When you were finally in, the darkness was the first thing you noticed. The sun was going down and some light still filtered through the partially open curtains.

Maybe he is not home?

“Satoru?” you called.

You walked further into the apartment and saw Gojo laying down on the couch of his living room. You stepped closer and noticed he was asleep.

Carefully, you towered over him.

Is he sick or...?

Only then, you noticed the half-full bottle of vodka on the table. Since when did he have alcohol at home?

“[name].”

Satoru was laying still, looking at you with half-lidded eyes, and you took a step back, straightening up. “You’re awake.”

He sat up. “How did you get in?”

At least he does not look too drunk.

You raised your hand, still holding the spare key he had given you. “You did not come to the school. Have you been here the whole day?”

His focus shifted to his surroundings as if he was disoriented.

“Where is your phone? We have called you a hundred times. Yaga is pissed, and…”

“Can-can you stop?” His brows were furrowed, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have a headache... Why is it that you are you here again?”

You huffed. “Yaga asked me to come here. Are you drunk?”

You did not recognize the look he gave you and his eyes drifted to the bottle sitting in front of him, the recollection of the last couple of days slowly coming back to him. Him telling you those awful things in the restrooms, him going to your place because he felt bad for saying them, him seeing Ikeda getting all affectionate with you, his blood boiling at the sight and the ache in his chest that followed.

The rest was a blur.

He had bought that bottle and been hesitant at first about drinking any of it. No, he did not like the taste of it nor the burning feeling in his throat, but once the alcohol had settled in, it would numb his senses, and if he was lucky, he would fall unconscious into a prolonged dreamless sleep. At that moment, it looked exactly like what he needed. The only thing he had not considered was the pounding headache he would wake up with.

The place was almost completely dark, but the little light getting in shone too brightly. He closed his eyes.

“Satoru?”

With effort, he opened his eyes enough to see you were handing him his blindfold. He must had left it discarded on the floor.

He took it, and the way his fingers brushed yours did not go unnoticed by either, but he quickened to pull his hand back and cover his eyes as if it had not happened.

You let a soft sigh scape your mouth. “Can we talk?”

You looked at him expectantly.

“I think we’ve talked enough,” he said in a flat tone.

He knew you needed to talk. What had happened in the restrooms that day had hardly been talking. It had been yelling and accusing, mostly from his part. He had felt ashamed for exploding like that, but when he thought of Ikeda holding you in front of your apartment, he could not help but feel hurt and betrayed all over again.

“No, Satoru. I mean, actually talking, explaining, and…”

And telling you I love you.

“I said there is nothing to talk about, [name]. Please just leave me alone.“

You swallowed your words. He wanted alone time. That was understandable.

“Okay,” you agreed almost breathless. “I get you are not feeling well.”

You eyed the bottle on the table in front of him. “Don’t drink more, okay?” Your voice was soft, mindful of the headache he had.

You wanted to stay and look after him, just as you always did when he was not feeling well, but his rigid posture and the way his face was turned away from you, was a clear sign that he would not be receptive to your presence now.

“And call Yaga," you continued. "He wanted to know if you’re coming to the school tomorrow or if he will need another substitute.”

The slight nod he gave you was the only confirmation that he had heard you.

“Okay,” you nodded back and turned to leave.

“[name]?”

You halted at the mention of your name and walked back, hopeful.

Satoru was still looking at some invisible point in front of him instead of your face, and the fact that his blindfold was on, and the room was almost completely dark made it only harder to read his expression.

“I’d like you to please leave your spare key.”

Huh?

You blinked once, twice. Your throat was closing. Why did you suddenly felt like crying?

Was it the foreign courteous tone in which he had request it? Was it because he was asking you to return a symbol of your friendship and trust in each other?

Perhaps, it was the underlying meaning behind such action why your hand trembled slightly when you placed the key on the table in front of him.

If he noticed the tear that landed on his carpet when you bent forward or if he was tempted to stop you and comfort you, you could not tell because you had never walked out of Satoru’s apartment faster.

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Note: Sorry for any typos, errors, etc. I'll proof-read later... at some point...someday.

For now, I hope you are all well. <3

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XXVI

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff @cheesemachine44 @tetsuski @rosellerinfrost @catowru @bi-narystars @wondermilka @fortunatelyfurrygiver @shrxui @cc1306 @chili-paste

[blazinghotfoggynights]

Buddie? BT? Doesn't matter.

Maybe this isn't how the writers wanted or expected their work to be interpreted, but people pull from RL situations and experience to infer and understand.

As a rational woman of more than 20 years of life on this planet, I've seen and experienced a lot. (Some of that experience is being dated by someone without having a clue they were dating me. Eddie Diaz is not alone. Sadly.) So, here is my interpretation.

1- Tommy was trying to date Eddie. Tommy is not bi, confused, closeted, or shy. He is an out gay man who immediately began monopolizing Eddie's attention and time. Your middle class new friend of a week or two is not flying you to Vegas unless he is trying to get into your pants within the next two weeks. Tommy was trying to impress Eddie and show off. That is not platonic. Tommy wanted Eddie in the naked and moaning type way. You can see his attraction in the way he follows Eddie with his eyes while cheesing when they land after rescuing the cruise ship. Tommy never once looks at Buck until Buck grabs him. Which leads to...

2- Buck was trying to do two things, subconsciously, at once, but for different reasons. Buck was trying to get Tommy's attention off Eddie and get Eddie's attention back onto himself. Eddie had no clue because he didn't even see Tommy was courting him. (I read an A/B/O fic and that word has stuck. Sue me.) Buck couldn't see he was jealous of Tommy and angry at Eddie because he felt he was being tossed aside. Don't forget, this is a Buck who was fresh out of a relationship and watching Eddie get serious with Marisol. In Buck's mind, Eddie was already being taken by Marisol and now Tommy was poaching him, too.

3- Tommy was not into Buck. He took a convenient option that presented itself. That is why that kiss is so sudden, impulsive, and UNSURE. Tommy knew Eddie was a lost cause. But then Buck is begging for attention and right there. So, Tommy made a decision to test the waters and see what happened.

4- Tommy also figured out that he could lead Buck around easily. Remember how their first date was set up? Remember Tommy kicking Buck to the curb literally, but coming back quickly when Buck called begging for a second chance? To young people and people who have never been in relationships, those are classic emotionally manipulative power moves. You can say what you want, but Tommy has figured Buck out and knows how to control the narrative.

If the writers went with sexual identity crisis Eddie, oblivious Buck, and opportunistic and manipulative Tommy, they could easily support all three with canon. Not fanon. CANON.

Bonus: Eddie is shocked Tommy is gay but isn't phased by Buck liking a man. Sure, it throws him a bit when Buck confesses he was on a date with Tommy, but Eddie is completely flabbergasted by Tommy being gay. That explains why he didn't realize Tommy was trying to get at that glorious behind. (For the rest, go back and watch the confession scene. Look for the micro-expressions. Share what you pick up.)

NOTE: I chose not to tag anything in the BuckTommy fandom. Please do not add tags or reblog to that fandom.

[galedekarios]

Hey there! You're one of the best Gale-ish devnotes\datamines sources that I know of, so I might as well ask. I remember that at some point Gale mentions taking part in Blackstaff Academy balls (or something like that). Is it mentioned elswhere, and do we have any details on his involvement in such activities? Need that for science\personal lore, and I'd appreciate any info (including EA), if you have time. Thanks!

thank you for your message and i'm sorry for the belated response!

i took my time to comb through everything and sadly, the banter with wyll is the only instance i could find of gale mentioning a ball at blackstaff academy:

gale & the annual blackstaff's ball

gale: i knew you were a graceful man, wyll, but i hear you're quite the dancer too. gale: i've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. mine was a popular hand at the annual blackstaff's ball. wyll: i'd have love to have witnessed it, gale. i wager you are as elegant on the dance floor as you are on the battlefield.

the only other banters i could find that are only loosely related. some give us glimpses into his life at the academy, others into his life in waterdeep.

here's another story about gale & being a young student at blackstaff academy, which triggers in the wizard tower in the underdark:

gale & the death slaad

gale: ah. quite. a misadventure from my days as an apprentice at blackstaff academy. gale: i was but a child, only a few months into my studies, but already i knew i was destined for greatness. no one believed me, of course, so i decided to prove it. to cast a spell with the blackstaff itself. gale: from one perspective, i succeeded. i opened a portal. however, instead of pointing it at the first year dormitory, i found myself pulled into limbo, facing a very irritated death slaad. gale: fortunately, the blackstaff himself came to the rescue, hauling me back from the brink, and straight into several months of writing lines. or rather, finessing my autograph. gale: now, much as i enjoy reminiscing about such tomfoolery, i believe we've more pressing matters at hand. is there anything else?

this dialogue path from the epilogue has him speaking a bit more about those days as well:

gale & his days as a wayward apprentice

gale: teaching at blackstaff academy has proven such an unexpected pleasure. sometimes i find it hard to tear myself away. gale: just one of the myriad unexpected ways life has delighted me in recent months. gale: even my own city feels new to me, now that i share it with you. player: probably because i make you put down your quill once in a while and enjoy it. gale: that you do. i've not had so much fun in waterdeep since my own days as a wayward blackstaff apprentice. gale: you've certainly made quite the impression on my friends down at the yawning portal. the last i heard, they were thinking of naming a drink after you.

while he seems to have enjoyed a much richer social life in waterdeep before his time of isolation, it's mentioned in another epilogue banter (devnotes) that he didn't seek out any of the more dangerous parts of the city.

there are also other banters about gale's life in waterdeep before the game:

gale & the temple of beauty in waterdeep

gale: i must tell you, shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired. gale: the ablutions offered at the temple of beauty in waterdeep are far superior. and they have the most excellent soaps. shadowheart: hmm. i was wondering why you always smelled like a wealthy dowager.

gale & spending time in the hospice of st. laupsenn

wyll: this was a hospital? feels more like a prison. gale: a common enough interpretation. sickness has a nasty habit of making you feel trapped, if only within the confines of your body. gale: i once spent weeks convalescing in the hospice of st. laupsenn after a nasty bout of ruddy pox. for all their kindness, leaving that place behind felt like freedom to me. wyll: i’ve always relied on the kindness of the healers and menders of the coast. better a cleric’s healing touch than a chirurgeon’s scalpel.

gale & florist

lae'zel: these flowers are quite vivid - not to mention, pungent. not to my liking. gale: are there no flowers in tu'narath? lae'zel: in the city of death, the mlar cultivate the fruiting bodies that sprout from the corpses of the slain. gale: i'd rather get them from my florist in waterdeep, if it's all the same to you.

i'm also including this banter between wyll and gale here because it speaks (even if somewhat joking) about his upbringing as a whole by morena:

wyll: i admire your courage, gale. gale: thank you. any particular reason? wyll: between the orb and the bug, you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. gale: what can i say? mother always taught me to be a gracious host.

we also know that he has had multiple tutors:

lae'zel: you strike me cleverer than most istiki, gale. multiple tutors, i should guess. gale: many a wise man and woman indeed. waterdeep is the home of myriad scholars. wyll: ah, the city of splendours. spent a whole fleetswake there with my father. what a delight.

hiring tutors appears to be relatively common in waterdeep:

so while this sadly wasn't what you were looking for, i hope this is helpful to some degree! 🖤

[cairoisashapeshifter]

Cuddle Session

♡ Word Count; 688

♡ Genre; Fluff, Established relationship.

♡ Warnings; Cursing

♡ A/N; This one is for @engardeitsme may you enjoy the much needed Heimdall cuddles :3)

Yesterday was forgotten, its bloody memory ebbing away into the strings of the past leaving in it's wake something new and warm. Heimdall lay one hand stroking lazy circles upon your flesh, the other draped over your shoulder to hold you close. Chest to chest, you both chose to forsake the new day, perhaps that is why an old crow croaked outside curious and perhaps furious. Both chose to stay ignorant to it, hoping instead to bask in the warmth of your entwined bodies, a day like this passed by little in your lives. "Good Morning" you speak, "Finally awake?" Heimdall answers earning him a huff in return "Mhm, or, I'm actually still asleep and you are hearing voices my lord" your words earned you a glare from your husband "perhaps I need to teach you how to respect a god again?" Heimdall drawled. When the birds started to wake, nature's orchestra always woke him up too, it was then he looked so neutral, so human with his mossy eyes and tossled and tangled hair, he looked unkempt in the most groggy of ways, it only made you love him more.

A sound of displeasure rumbled in your throat as you move one of your arms up to wipe away at his face "you look absolutely beautiful this morning my god" he smiled at this, body somehow finding a space to between you to occupy "that's more like it" he whispered next to your ears which he kissed sending shivers down your neck "Stop it Heimie" Heimdall pulled back to stare you in the eyes, his head now hovering over the bed "What in the title 'God of Forsight' made you think, Oh, I can tell him what to do?" He mocked, you, quicker then lightning, place your lips on his for moments before falling back to the comfort of your bed "I actually think it was the title 'husband' that gave me that impression" a wide smile etched itself on his handsome face "Well then, I guess, I can do this" you found yourself suddenly uncovered, the warm hides you used to cover yourself was held in his hands then, disgustingly the monster threw them on the floor "Hemie!" you whined "why did you do that I was so comfortable you asshole" now cold you turned to glare at Heimdall, his head was propped on his hand, he watched you like a smug child "I think it was because my spouse decided to forget their place as a pathetic mortal, I just had to remind them of their spot that's all", silence followed with you both staring into each others eyes 

"Fine, guess you can sleep on your own then"

Surprised he reached out the moment he saw you get off the bed. And, like iron, he dragged you back "Oh no you don't". Once more you found yourself warm within his hold, his naked chest offering you a kind of heat no hide or blanket can give. Heimdall had your back to him with an arm snaked around your chest and the other your stomach, you wiggled trying to leave his grasp but to no avail, he had gotten you where he wanted you, sadly, your mortal bones were no match to your husband's immortal body. "Sometimes." You quip "I-" finishing the sentence proved difficult especially when you didn't mean it "tsk, I was going to say hate you but unfortunately for me I love you", the god pressed flush against you laughed leaving you to feel rumbling emit from his body, he scarcely laughed if you weren't involved, laughter suddenly stopping he spoke with a fake seriousness, although sounding very true, "Of course you do, and luckily for you I decided to grace you with the love of a god, be thankful you get to experience what little mortals did".

Words drifted to a halt as you both continued to lay, the crow still croaked outside to no avail, and you both still laid within each other's arms bodies tangled to one mess where one couldn't see when one began or ended, warm and complete.

[mysticstronomy]

COULD WE USE BLACK HOLES FOR TIME TRAVEL??

Blog#463

Wednesday, December 18th, 2024

Welcome back,

Black holes form natural time machines that allow travel to both the past and the future. But don’t expect to be heading back to visit the dinosaurs any time soon.

At present, we don’t have spacecraft that could get us anywhere near a black hole. But, even leaving that small detail aside, attempting to travel into the past using a black hole might be the last thing you ever do.

A black hole is an extremely massive object that is typically formed when a dying star collapses in on itself.

Like planets and stars, black holes have gravitational fields around them. A gravitational field is what keeps us stuck to Earth, and what keeps Earth revolving around the Sun.

As a rule of thumb, the more massive an object is, the stronger its gravitational field.

Earth’s gravitational field makes it extremely difficult to get to space. That’s why we build rockets: we have to travel very fast to break out of Earth’s gravity.

The gravitational field of a black hole is so strong that even light can’t escape it. That’s impressive, since light is the fastest thing known to science!

Incidentally, that’s why black holes are black: we can’t bounce light off a black hole the way we might bounce a torch light off a tree in the dark.

Albert Einstein’s general theory of relativity tells us matter and energy have a curious effect on the universe. Matter and energy bend and stretch space. The more massive an object is, the more space is stretched and bent around it.

A massive object creates a kind of valley in space. When objects come near, they fall into the valley.

That’s why, when you get close enough to any massive object, including a black hole, you fall towards it. It’s also why light can’t escape a black hole: the sides of the valley are so steep that light isn’t going fast enough to climb out.

The valley created by a black hole gets steeper and steeper as you approach it from a distance. The point at which it gets so steep that light can’t escape is called the event horizon.

Event horizons aren’t just interesting for would-be time travellers: they’re also interesting for philosophers, because they have implications for how we understand the nature of time.

When space is stretched, so is time. A clock that is near a massive object will tick slower than one that is near a much less massive object.

A clock near a black hole will tick very slowly compared to one on Earth. One year near a black hole could mean 80 years on Earth, as you may have seen illustrated in the movie Interstellar.

In this way, black holes can be used to travel to the future. If you want to jump into the future of Earth, simply fly near a black hole and then return to Earth.

If you get close enough to the centre of the black hole, your clock will tick slower, but you should still be able to escape so long as you don’t cross the event horizon.

So, you’ve found a black hole and you want to use your trusty spaceship to go back and visit the dinosaurs. Good luck.

There are three problems. First, you can only travel into the black hole’s past. That means that if the black hole was created after the dinosaurs died out, then you won’t be able to go back far enough.

Second, you’d probably have to cross the event horizon to get into the loop. This means that to get out of the loop at a particular time in the past, you’d need to exit the event horizon. That means travelling faster than light, which we’re pretty sure is impossible.

Third, and probably worst of all, you and your ship would undergo “spaghettification”. Sounds delicious, right?

Sadly, it’s not. As you crossed the event horizon you would be stretched flat, like a noodle. In fact, you’d probably be stretched so thin that you’d just be a string of atoms spiralling into the void.

So, while it’s fun to think about the time-warping properties of black holes, for the foreseeable future that visit to the dinosaurs will have to stay in the realm of fantasy.

Originally published on https://www.astronomy.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, December 21st, 2024)

"WHAT IS OUR UNIVERSE SURROUNDED BY??"

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Spring Vault Debut: Super Mario Galaxy

Oh boy, a vault! A spring vault! A vault full of goodies and treasures, perhaps? Only one way to find out! Come on, Spring Vault, you have nothing to hide! Open up, and let us inside!

Uh oh, lasers? Those goodies and treasures aren't good or treasured! Nevermind, Spring Vault. You can keep your goodies to yourself. I don't want them and neither does Mario.

This is Spring Vault, from Super Mario Galaxy! I didn't know they were called that, but as it turns out, the wiki didn't until pretty recently either, so I'm not alone. Spring Vaults are a stationary enemy that attack Mario by shooting circular laser beams from a safe distance!

Which raises my first question: are "circular laser beams" even something that can exist? Does light work that way? I wouldn't know! That sounds like a physics question and I know next to nothing about physics because I'm bad at math. I got my degree in Applied Weird Mario Enemies Studies at Wet-Dry World's Wet n' Wild Wuniversity.

If you can hop over Spring Vault's possibly impossible circular laser beams, then you can jump on Spring Vault to reveal the real treasure: Spring! Jump on Spring Vault with the spring revealed, and you can get some impressive vertical, bringing Jump Man to heights never before thought to be possible...

Don't worry too much about breaking the Funny Robot though. If you leave it undisturbed for long enough, it'll fix itself by Recalibrating Its Spring Senors or some other vaguely technological-sounding mumbo jumbo. I don't know anything about computers either! I'm writing this post on a stone tablet!

If you're familiar with your Weird Mario Enemies, you may note that Spring Vault looks similar to the Topmen from the same game, especially the Spring Topman, which loses out on its laser functionality to let you enjoy Springing on the go! But just as the Topman is a whole family of enemies, Spring Vault has a bit of a family of its own, which I'll cover beneath the cut!

First up, we have the Sentry Garage, which is probably the closest relative of the Spring Vault. Sentry Garages are a similarly stationary enemy that can be jumped on to reveal the spring within, but instead of shooting out lasers, they shoot Topminis! I'd make another joke about the miracle of childbirth, but the name suggests these are just a Topmini storage unit...

Sentry Garage looks like a pretty stylish place to keep your Topminis, but if a plumber comes by and spins them into next Thursday, don't say I didn't warn you!

Sadly, Sentry Garage is about as interesting as the Spring Vault family gets, because the rest of these are more "obstacle" than enemy. Like Ring Beamer, for example! No eyes or anything. Just a bunch of spikes. But sea urchins have no eyes and a bunch of spikes, and they're awesome, so maybe we should extend the same love to Ring Beamer. Make it feel loved. Make it feel like part of a family.

It's not trying to make you feel like part of a family though! Lasers? Spikes? Everything Ring Beamer does is a pretty clear indicator to Stay Away!

Up next we have the Ball Beamers, but you can call them Banjo and Kazooie, because they have Nuts and Bolts! Like the Ring Beamer, these are more obstacle than enemy, but unlike Ring Beamer, they don't have spikes or anything. This makes them safe for Mario to stand on, but it also means you can't compare them to sea urchins as much. You win some, you lose some.

They're still not completely safe though, because you know. Circular laser beams.

The thing is, whether they're an Enemy or Obstacle, Nintendo must have really fallen in love with the Ring Beamer family, because they've kept making new variants in subsequent 3D Mario games! Meet Ring Burner, introduced in Super Mario 3D World! Rather than lasers, this one shoots fire, but otherwise it has the same basic attack patterns.

Or at least it can have the same attack patterns, because some Ring Burners shoot fire in squares instead! Haven't you heard? It's hip to be square! This feels like it goes against the name, but oh well. Like Ball Beamer, these ones are safe to stand on, and they won't fire while you stand on it. Are they scared? Does Ring Beamer have feelings? Is that skull marking its actual face?

That being said, by the time Super Mario Odyssey came out, "fire" and "being safe to stand on" were out of fashion again, because Pulse Beam brought back the lasers and spikes! Or rather, laser and spike. Pulse Beam thinks having more than one spike is excessive.

Pulse Beam also values its personal space, and as long as you don't disturb it, it won't disturb you. Pulse Beams will only start shooting lasers when hit by Cappy, so leave them be, and they'll leave you be! That being said, their lasers can clear out other small enemies, so it might be good to activate them if you're getting overwhelmed...

But be careful! Pulse Beams tend to activate other Pulse Beams, so once one goes off, you'll probably have to deal with a few. Time your jumps well, and you should be A-OK.

But hold on, what if I were to tell you that the Ring Beamer family wasn't restricted to the Mario franchise...?

Happy Tunky Tuesday, because thinking so much about circular laser beams you gotta hop over reminded me of the Wave Breaker from Splatoon 3! This special weapon uses basically the same attack pattern, releasing circular shockwaves you need to jump over to avoid getting damaged, and since this is a competitive shooter, getting hit by the Wave Breaker also puts a target on your back, letting everyone on the enemy team know your exact location! Imagine, getting doxxed by a cup and ball toy. Those Splatoons have it rough.

Clearly the Splatoon 3 developers fell in love with this mechanic, because it shows up even in other game modes, with DJ Octavio's boss fight, the Amped Octostamp, and the Big Shot from Salmon Run using the exact same shockwave mechanics. The sheer scope of Ring Burner's influence can not be understated!

It's weird that talking about a Funny Spring Laser Enemy from Super Mario Galaxy eventually led me to talking about a different franchise in a different genre, but it's apparent Nintendo has fallen in love with this sort of obstacle. Gosh, Nintendo, if you love Circular Laser Beams You Need To Jump Over so much, why don't you marry them?

...I can be Spring Vault/Ring Beamer/Ring Burner/Wave Breaker/the rest's bridesmaid if they need one! I promise!

[blommp717]

I try to follow what you are saying, but I find your content confusing, and based on some of your repeat asks, I’m not the only one. The way you explain ND could use improvement, in my opinion. Maybe it’s because English isn’t your first language or because your understanding of ND is more theoretical than experiential—it seems like both. This is fine, but have you considered improving your English (or teaching in your mother tongue and paying a professional translation service?) and actually living in the ND state of being (not just reading or watching videos about it) before attempting to teach in a language you seem to struggle with? You could be more successful and less misleading.

There’s a lot of misunderstanding and inaccuracies in your writings, and your pinned post gives the impression that you aren’t the type of person to humbly take advice and cultivate self-awareness. Which in and of itself doesn't really reflect what one would expect from a guru or someone who has reached a profoundly deep nondualistic understanding and wishes to guide others. You seem bothered by critique or questions that you haven't already read the answer to. Maybe you could sincerely cultivate Self-awareness of how you are appearing to people who have genuinely experienced the ND state of being, not just an intellectual understanding, and those who have not. Maybe I’m wrong (I very well could be), but it seems like you read about it but haven’t actually had experiences beyond reading and thinking about it. It feels shallow and without real rooting in experience, not just theoretical knowledge. This is just a humble observation from another seeker on the path, so take it with many grains of salt. May you find equanimity and authentic awakening and be of genuine assistance to others. Peace.

I most definitely think you’re coming from a space of aggression instead of actually trying to inquire firstly, moving forward. I don’t really get how people asking questions is an indicator of me not knowing what I’m really talking about as opposed to people learning to accept how easy it is. Allot of these people come from LOA so they think there’s a process, they think there’s work to do, so having such a drastic shift will obviously not feel easy at first 🤭and secondly I’m baffled about the language comment, I have zero clue what makes you think that kind of stuff is okay to say to anyone, regardless of if it’s true or not, please seek some humanity and get it together. You don’t want to be saying all of that b.s to the wrong person. I reallllyy hope you don’t act like this in person with anyone.

Alright so, to what the actual focus of your text should have been.

If you notice, my pinned post was allot more recent than when I started posting, it was more of a response to someone claiming I’m giving false hope and that explaining the idea of “manifestation” alongside non-duality is wrong. Which I’m literally not, im not sure if your truly following up on what I’ve posted because I make it very very clear since the beginning and almost in every post with a long ask that I. Am. Not. Teaching. You. How. To. Manifest. There’s absolutely no such thing, it might look like it and feel like it but it’s not. I even have a post where the entire thing is me talking about why there’s no such thing as manifestation. And I have zero clue where you got any of that information about who I am as a person from that post alone when all I’m stating is how I’m not going to stop helping people? 😭😭

I think another confusion people who “enter” NonDualism have is they think awakening is real. You told me to reach a state of ND being or the State of ND which I’m not really sure what you mean by that because it doesn’t exist. It’s sadly time to burst the bubble. There is no awakening, if you truly understand nonduality, there is no journey, there’s no goal, there nothing that you can do to achieve enlightenment because it doesn’t exist, these are concepts and ideas self realized to give the “self” and “I” a reason to exist. I perfectly well understand what nonduality at its core is and have hundreds of what I’m sure people would call “succes stories” with it. My old posts have plenty of explaining as to what, just, no duality states regardless of getting what you want. How can there be a journey? There is no self thst has a journey, just ideas and thoughts spinning together in a flurry and naming it “self”. You don’t exist.

And for you, you want to understand no duality? I’m going to try not to be cryptic but here we go. You can’t and neither can I , no one can understand and seek, you’re not a seeker and there is no path, this is the truth. And no one can have a journey because there is no identity in any of this, there is no self as a person, there is no “me” on a “path”, there is no “one” here who understands anything. It’s all self actualizing thoughts making it seem like there is a journey, the “I” or what people call ego, needs purpose to exist. It feels like a threat when everything is dissolved. The idea that there is more to do, will be true for as long as you pretend it is. And without the false idea of a journey this “self”or “me” loses its purpose. It can be “hard” to accept but truly it doesn’t matter because the nature of existence will not change. Think about it why does the idea of something higher, a bigger step, some grand moment seem so enticing? And for who does it seem so enticing for? The false identity, the “me” the “self”. It’s just another story. You might sit and be, it may lead you deeper into sensations in the body and most likely a “profound” sense of understanding, but quite honestly if your looking for a tiny spark of magic to keep you going on and thinking there’s even more and even more to experience, it would be absolutely useless.

You are already all, whats there to find

Understanding nonduslity is realizing, how can any of this be more grand if there is only one, how can more be achieve if there is a constant state of nonduality? How can the illusion reach a higher state… the higher state is also just illusory, the self, body and world is just illusory. You as everything are pretending to be a person pretending a self and pretending that this person is also self and needs to understand and reach more profound states of being.

This is how “manifestation” is possible. There is no one and nothing “happening” all there appears to be is what you appear as, it’s hollow, almost like a projection. This can’t be turned off, you appear as all there is and as long as the body is here thoughts will appear, ideas will appear, visualizations will appear, you take it as just thinking or talking to yourself or daydreaming or predicting what might happen next, but that’s all what “manifesting” is. In every timeless moment (instant is not fast enough so I say timeless) stories are realized, you take it effortlessly as how your life is. Simple things like how you expect your parents to respond to you not picking up their phone, or what kind of day at your gonna have at school to literally everything, it’s constant, it’s everything, it’s always “on”. Your luck, the compliments you receive, how things work or don’t work out for you, all of it. This is not just life as it is but the entire “manifestation” it’s an experience of what “it” (you) appears as. And if all is what you are and the appearance relies on the perception of the appearance, then perceiving any type of story like, having brown eyes but you want blue. Okay, “I have blue eyes” this is not an affirmation, this is a truth, this is what “ “ (you) now appear as, timelessly, and needing proof or evidence is useless as it puts the attention back at “has it changed it”. If you understand its all you, you also know needing evidence or proof is truly completely useless. “But I checked the mirror and my eyes are still brown” with what understanding did you move to the mirror with. An expectancy of brown eyes? Hmm.

Well I think this is getting long winded, I’m not gonna make this even longer than it is, hopefully you find some clarity in this and I strongly urge you, before making random comments or being just rude, ask yourself with what state of mind am I moving forward. Do I really need to say it this way? Because truly, I’ll remain here doing what I do, I’m incredibly grateful that I can be able to help so many people so it brings me a sense of joy (though unreal 🤭). But I hope you understand there is a proper way to question and criticize, and well, your claims feel like they were based off reading 2 posts and calling it a day 😭😭. Anyways I actually will thank you regardless, I’m sure many people can learn from what you’ve initiated me to explain, have a great life, I hope to see you come again in future posts 🫶🫀🪷🪷☀️