#his math strategies are shocking

[porloquevivoyo]

Julián randomly said-

“Do you know 5x16? It’s 80. Because half of 16 is 8 and 5 is half of 10 and 8x10 is 80.”

[xspeter]

꥟ part of the “dancing with our hands tied” collection, Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader

꥟ IN WHICH… You discover that everyone at camp can tell.

꥟ W.C: 3k

Capture the Flag is a camp staple. It’s practically what makes the camp what it is! The battle strategy, the team work, the training.. it was perfect.

“Explain to your idiot boyfriend that we should get the Aphrodite cabin because he already has the advantage!”

“Just because we have more campers doesn’t mean we have the advantage! How many times do I need to say that?”

Clarisse and Luke have this argument nearly every week. Always fighting about who gets what cabin, which battle strategies were ethical and which weren’t, that whole ordeal.

You just wish they’d stop including you in it. Especially when you’re trying to clean a little boy's scraped knees!

You sigh, shooting the Demeter child a sorry look, but he doesn’t notice. Instead, he’s got a huge smile on his face as he watches Luke and Clarisse bicker like siblings. “They’re silly!” He giggles.

You smile, placing a blue band-aid on his knee and helping him off the bed. “Yep. Sooo silly.”

He doesn’t spare you a second glance as he leaves, and you’re partially grateful and partially offended. You don’t linger on the thought though, instead focusing the rest of your attention on the two fuming teens.

“You already have half the cabins in camp! Just because our cabins bigger doesn’t mean you get to hog everyone!”

“We aren’t hogging everyone-”

You rub the bridge of your nose, annoyance building in your temples. Are they aware that this is still technically your place of work? You don’t hang out in the infirmary on the daily just for fun. As Apollo Head Counselor it was literally your job to be there, and they were just making it harder.

“Okay, guys, calm down-”

They don’t listen, instead just getting louder and louder. Some of the patients are starting to notice, and seeing as majority of them are younger kids, it makes them nervous. And nervous kids in medical settings? Never a good mix.

“Luke, you’re literally so stupid it shocks me that you’re even still alive.”

“Right, because I understand basic math and you don't, I'm the stupid one. Makes complete sense.”

You sigh, glancing at a little girl that has started fighting the medicine your brother was trying to give her. It’s already been a struggle to even get her to lay down, and they had disrupted any progress you guys had made.

“Can you guys stop yelling, please?” You strain, watching as another little boy begins to cry when Clarisse practically screams fuck you! at Luke.

Again, they ignore you, and you’re starting to wonder if they can even hear anything you're saying. You wouldn’t be surprised if not.

“You know what, Castellan? Why don’t you take your math, and shove it right up your-”

“Okay!” You intervene, grabbing them both by their wrists and dragging them out of the building. Honestly, you’re still not sure they’re processing anything you’re saying or doing, because the entire time you lead them outside they glare at each other like two children.

Once you’ve gotten a safe distance from the patients and any prying ears, you smack both of them upside the head. Clarisse yelps while Luke’s hand immediately goes to soothe the spot.

“Are you guys deaf or just plain selfish?” You ask, nostrils practically flaring. “I mean, did you not notice the patients in there or did you just not care? Because to me it seems like you just didn’t care!”

They both have the decency to look at least a little bit ashamed, and for some reason it almost makes you feel bad. You're not sure if it's because of the genuine guilt on both of their faces, or just your constant need to please. You’re betting on the latter.

Luke swallows, sharing a glance with Clarisse before both of their gazes fall to the floor. “We’re sorry.” Clarisse mumbles, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. To most, Clarisse was rude and rarely ever apologized, but that was just to the people she didn’t know.

If you really took the time to know her, you’d discover she was just as lost as the rest of you. And underneath that hard exterior, there was a sweet girl begging to be found. You just had to be willing to look for it.

Luke nods in agreement, “Really, really sorry.”

Your eyes dart between the two of them, arms crossing over your chest. Some part of you wants to continue raging on them, you feel like it’ll be a bit therapeutic. But, the more rational part of you knows how serious they take the game, and sometimes they just get too into it.

“It’s fine,” You mumble, sucking in a breath and dropping your arms to your sides again. “Just, explain to me again whatever it is you guys are mad about.”

They both go to speak at the same time, and you realize you should’ve been more specific with your wording. You put a hand up to stop them, and quickly say, “Without arguing.”

You don’t miss Clarisse’s eye roll, but you choose not to call her out on it. Luke glances at the dark haired girl, and she gestures for him to speak a bit more aggressively than you think was necessary.

He sighs, turning to you with a slight smirk. It was his signature one, the one that practically dropped trouble. “Basically, Clarisse wants the Aphrodite Cabin because they have more campers, but she already has more than half the cabins in camp. So, I think we should be able to keep the Aphrodite cabin.”

You nod, “Which cabins does Clarrise have?”

The Ares child answers, “Demeter, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and Ares- obviously.”

You assumed that meant the other cabins were on Luke’s team, and if that was true, that meant he had the majority of the bigger cabins. Which meant that Clarrise should get Aphrodite.

But, the puppy dog look on Luke’s face makes your heart skip a beat, and you wonder if maybe you could bend your morals for him. Just this once. It was just a game after all, right?

Unfortunately, Clarrise has this knowing look in her eyes, like she knows what you’re thinking. It makes you feel small, so you do your best to seem as nonchalant as possible and say, “Then Clarrise should get it. But, maybe give Luke Dionysus? Since there’s only two of them.”

A huge grin overtakes Clarisse’s face, and she sticks her tongue out at Luke. “Ha!” She shouts, pointing a finger in Luke’s face. “I knew your girlfriend would agree with me.”

Luke rolls his eyes, a slight blush overtaking his cheeks at the word girlfriend. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. We’re still gonna beat you.”

Clarisse just shrugs him off, shooting you a wink as she walks away. Your friendship with Clarisse definitely was unexpected considering your clashing personalities, but you loved the girl like a sister.

Luke sighs dramatically, bottom lip jutting out a bit as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You really couldn’t have just given them to me?” You snort, you know he’s not really angry with you, which is why you roll your eyes with a grin.

“Sadly, no.” You shrug, “Besides, we both know you’ll be able to win without them.” It was true, Luke’s quick thinking and obvious knack for battle strategy set him up for success. But, it was also pretty well known majority of the kids in the Aphrodite Cabin would rather spend their time braiding hair and gazing at themselves in puddles. So, you didn’t think it was that hard of a loss.

Luke chuckles, “Why? Because they’d rather stare at their reflection then actually play the game?”

You pretend to think, scratching your chin and gazing up at the sky. “Um, yeah, exactly my point.”

He snorts in response, allowing you to lead him back into the infirmity silently. You almost find it strange how he doesn’t even question you. Just… follows. “I didn’t think you’d be so stereotypical, Sweetheart.” He jokes.

You shrug, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

Luke watches as you push the door open, immediately going to greet a waiting patient. She’s a little bit older, probably around Percy’s age, but you still talk to her gently and kindly. Still treat her like a little kid, but not in a condescending way.

Luke’s not sure how you manage it. It makes his heart flutter in his chest for reasons he can’t explain.

“Yeah.” He sighs, eyes trailing your every move. “You are.”

꥟

You didn’t particularly enjoy being stuck in the medical tent during capture the flag. Not because you wanted to actually play the game, no, but because you were completely alone.

Some of your siblings always offered to stay behind with you, but you never let them. They’d be miserable staying with you, even if they wouldn’t admit it. Thus, here you sat, alone.

It wasn’t all bad. You enjoyed the peace, a rare thing to get at Camp Half-Blood, and most of the campers were too hell-bent on winning to even bother stopping by. Which meant you got to enjoy the unusual serenity all by yourself.

The birds sing hymns that you don’t know the words to, and the leaves dance together like professional ballerinas. It’s all very beautiful, really.

At least it is until Percy Jackson rips through the trees, a wide smile on his face and his chest heaving. His eyes dart around the opening, before they finally land on you.

You're sat outside the tent, jean shorts surely stained an unflattering green color and shins covered in shards of grass.

“Oh! Good, you’re here.” Percy breathes, jogging over to you. You stand, doing your best to discreetly wipe at your butt.

“Yep. I’m..” You let out a sigh, “still here.”

Percy just sniffs, giggling a bit and bouncing on his toes. He looks like a little boy who’d just been told he could get his favorite candy from the store. “He got it.” He says.

You raise an eyebrow, “Who got what?”

“Luke got the flag.” He grins, “I’m supposed to wait here to make sure no Ares campers cross the threshold.”

You nod. The makeshift infirmary was placed directly on the invisible threshold, but you found it a little weird Luke would send Percy to lookout for incoming Ares campers here when majority of them would probably be somewhere deeper in the woods.

You knew that, and surely Luke knew that, which meant..

You give Percy a sympathetic look. It’s not his fault he gets… distracted so easily when playing the game, but you also understood how seriously Luke took this. It just sucked he resorted to lying to the kid instead of coming up with something else for him to do.

“I see,” You mumble, eyeing a small cut on Percy’s knee. “What if I patch that up while you wait?” You ask, gesturing to the cut with your chin.

Percy shakes his head, eyes never leaving the woods. “Can’t. Have to make sure no one crosses.”

You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip. Percy could be so stubborn, that’s probably why he and Annabeth got along so well. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s so quiet you’ll be able to hear them if they do. Just come inside, alright?”

Finally, Percy tears his gaze away from the open area to you, and he’s got that familiar glint in his eye. Percy’s smart, he always had been. And you weren’t the best liar. “What do you know?” He asks suspiciously, pointing an accusing finger at you.

You throw your hands up in surrender, shaking your head. “All I know is that you’re bleeding and it’s my job to take care of that, okay? So let me do my job.”

You can see the inner battle in Percy. He wants to stay out and do what Luke told him, but he also knows the cut on his knee stings like hell. He sighs, lowering his hand and glancing cautiously to the clearing. “Alright… but, promise if we hear anything you’ll let me go back out?”

You smile, “I promise.”

Seemingly satisfied, Percy allows you to lead him inside and begin your work. The floor in the tent was still grass, which meant the chair he was sitting in was quite unstable on the ground.

He rocked on it, eyes going wide when it leaned just a bit too far back. You snort when he does, and he sheepishly rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

You begin your work with no words exchanged between you, instead humming a familiar tune.

“That’s the song you sing at the campfire, right? Here comes the sun?”

You nod, glancing up at him. Percy smirks, hands messing with his helmet. “Luke said that was his favorite song, and I could never really understand why because it’s just… it feels odd to me for someone like him to like that song. But I think I understand why now.”

You’d like to pretend that Percy’s statement doesn’t make you go pink in the face, but it does. Luke said that was his favorite song? Of course, it didn’t automatically mean it was his favorite song because of you, but… it was nice to imagine, right?

“He did?” You ask, clearing your throat and trying to be as causal as possible. “And why do you think you know why? It could just be because it’s a catchy song.”

Percy shakes his head, “Nah. Trust me, it’s definitely not just because it’s catchy. It’s cause-”

The deafening sound of footsteps interrupts the both of you, and you both share a look before Percy is darting out of the tent and outside. You follow closely behind, a fresh pack of band-aids still in your hands.

Luke is leading a chase, with a giant red flag in his hands and a wide grin on his face. Dozens of campers follow him. Percy runs to them, jumping up and down and screeching something you can’t make out. Everyone is laughing, grinning. Everyone except for Luke.

His eyes look over the scene, looking for something you’re not sure of. It’s not until they land on you that it clicks. He was looking for you.

Instantly, he shoves the flag over to some unsuspecting kid and rushes over to you. It’s such an exhilarating feeling, being the person he looks for. You aren’t sure when that had happened, or what you had even done to deserve it- you just know you’ll thank The Gods everyday for allowing it.

Luke’s arms wrap around your waist, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. Instantly, your senses are overrun by everything Luke. You can feel him, smell him, practically taste him with how close he is. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time.

Your arms wrap around his neck, dropping the pack of band-aids in the grass and standing on your toes. You grin into his neck, “I knew you’d win.”

Luke snorts, giving you one final squeeze and backing away, but his hands remain at your waist. It makes you feel faint. “It was nothing, really.” He says with a shrug.

You furrow your brows, unconvinced. You know Luke is more than proud of his accomplishment, so why was he acting so easy going right now?

“Is that so?” You ask, swaying on your feet. “So, you aren’t going to be bragging to Clarisse for the next week about how you beat her?”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Oh, no, of course I am. But, I can’t say that in front of a pretty girl can I? Gotta play it smooth.” He squeezes your waist as he says it, and your cheeks instantly fluff. A pretty girl. He was calling you a pretty girl.

Compliments from Luke were hardly rare, but he never said them in front of so many prying eyes. And it’s then that you notice everyone staring at the two of you, most all have knowing smirks on their faces, but some look on in jealousy. You hate to admit that it almost makes you prideful.

You were the only one Luke ran too- the one he looked for. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

You look away from him, rolling your eyes and shoving at him playfully. “Shut up, you flirt.”

He pretends to look hurt, giving you his best puppy dog eyes and grasping at his chest. “Oh, how you wound me!”

You giggle and open your mouth to respond, but Clarisse's familiar screech of anger interrupts you. “Where is he?”

You raise your brows, watching as Luke winces. While he would be claiming bragging rights for the rest of the week, being around her right now definitely wasn’t the best idea.

You suck in a breath, whistling lowly. “I think you’d better run.”

Luke’s lips thin into a line, tilting his head. “Yeah. Probably.” But, he doesn’t move. Instead, he just stares down at you. You raise your eyebrows in confusion, “Are you going to go?” You ask.

Luke grins slyly, “Yeah, just one more thing..”

It’s then that you feel the familiar warmth of Luke’s lips on your cheek, suspiciously close to your mouth. But, just as soon as he was there, he was gone. Running off and leaving you flustered and alone.

Your hands intertwine in front of you, a large cheesy grin on your face. You turn and begin walking back to the tent to clean up, but everyone’s eyes on you stops you. You glance down at your clothes, and then feel your face, checking for something- anything.

When you don’t find anything, you let out a nervous laugh. “What…?”

Everyone shares a look, one that you know all too well. You let out a groan, hands running through your hair, “It’s not like that!”

Percy shakes his head, “Yeah, okay. Of course it’s not.”

You just roll your eyes and storm into the tent. They were seeing things that just weren’t there! Luke was your best friend, and it was normal for best friends to be affectionate!

Hugs, compliments, cheek kisses… there was nothing else going on. Luke was just your friend being happy to see you.

That was all.

taglist: @apolloscastellan @ddarling-ddearest-ddead

[drnikolatesla]

Tesla’s Wardenclyffe Tower: Built on Sound Math, Undone by Cost and Misunderstanding

Let’s set the record straight—Nikola Tesla’s Wardenclyffe Tower was a high-voltage experimental transmission system grounded in quarter-wave resonance and electrostatic conduction—not Hertzian radiation. And the math behind it? It was solid—just often misunderstood by people applying the wrong physics.

In May 1901, Tesla calculated that to set the Earth into electrical resonance, he needed a quarter-wavelength system with a total conductor length of about 225,000 cm, or 738 feet.

So Tesla’s tower design had to evolve during construction. In a letter dated September 13, 1901, to architect Stanford White, Tesla wrote: “We cannot build that tower as outlined.” He scaled the visible height down to 200 feet. The final structure—based on photographic evidence and Tesla’s own testimony—stood at approximately 187 feet above ground. To meet the required electrical length, Tesla engineered a system that combined spiral coil geometry, an elevated terminal, a 120-foot vertical shaft extending underground, and radial pipes buried outward for approximately 300 feet. This subterranean network, together with the 187-foot tower and carefully tuned inductance, formed a continuous resonant conductor that matched Tesla’s target of 738 feet. He described this strategy in his 1897 patent (No. 593,138) and expanded on it in his 1900 and 1914 patents, showing how to simulate a longer conductor using high-frequency, resonant components. Even with a reduced visible height, Tesla’s system achieved quarter-wave resonance by completing the rest underground—proving that the tower’s electrical length, not its physical height, was what really mattered.

Tesla calculated his voltages to be around 10 million statvolts (roughly 3.3 billion volts in modern SI), so he had to consider corona discharge and dielectric breakdown. That’s why the terminal was designed with large, smooth spherical surfaces—to minimize electric surface density and reduce energy loss. This was no afterthought; it’s a core feature of his 1914 patent and clearly illustrated in his design sketches.

Now, about that ±16 volt swing across the Earth—what was Tesla talking about?

He modeled the Earth as a conductive sphere with a known electrostatic capacity. Using the relation:

ε × P = C × p

Where:

ε is the terminal’s capacitance (estimated at 1,000 cm)

P is the applied voltage (10⁷ statvolts)

C is the Earth’s capacitance, which Tesla estimated at 5.724 × 10⁸ cm (based on the Earth’s size)

p is the resulting voltage swing across the Earth

Plugging in the numbers gives p ≈ 17.5 volts, which Tesla rounded to ±16 volts. That’s a theoretical 32-volt peak-to-peak swing globally—not a trivial claim, but one rooted in his framework.

Modern recalculations, based on updated geophysical models, suggest a smaller swing—closer to ±7 volts—using a revised Earth capacitance of about 7.1 × 10⁸ cm. But that’s not a knock on Tesla’s math. His original ±16V estimate was fully consistent with the cgs system and the best data available in 1901, where the Earth was treated as a uniformly conductive sphere.

The difference between 7 and 16 volts isn’t about wrong numbers—it’s about evolving assumptions. Tesla wrote the equation. Others just adjusted the inputs. His premise—that the Earth could be set into controlled electrical resonance—still stands. Even if the voltage swing changes. The vision didn’t.

Wouldn't that ±16V swing affect nature or people? Not directly. It wasn’t a shock or discharge—it was a global oscillation in Earth’s electric potential, spread evenly across vast distances. The voltage gradient would be tiny at any given point—far less than what’s generated by everyday static electricity. Unless something was specifically tuned to resonate with Tesla’s system, the swing had no noticeable effect on people, animals, or the environment. It was a theoretical signature of resonance, not a hazard. While some early experiments in Colorado Springs did produce disruptive effects—like sparks from metal objects or spooked horses—those involved untuned, high-voltage discharges during Tesla’s exploratory phase. Wardenclyffe, by contrast, was a refined and carefully grounded system, engineered specifically to minimize leakage, discharge, and unintended effects.

And Tesla wasn’t trying to blast raw power through the ground. He described the system as one that would “ring the Earth like a bell,” using sharp, high-voltage impulses at a resonant frequency to create standing waves. As he put it:

“The secondary circuit increases the amplitude only... the actual power is only that supplied by the primary.” —Tesla, Oct. 15, 1901

Receivers, tuned to the same frequency, could tap into the Earth’s oscillating potential—not by intercepting radiated energy, but by coupling to the Earth’s own motion. That ±16V swing wasn’t a bug—it was the signature of resonance. Tesla’s transmitter generated it by pumping high-frequency, high-voltage impulses into the Earth, causing the surface potential to oscillate globally. That swing wasn’t the energy itself—it acted like a resonant “carrier.” Once the Earth was ringing at the right frequency, Tesla could send sharp impulses through it almost instantly, and tuned receivers could extract energy.

So—was it feasible?

According to Tesla’s own patents and 1916 legal testimony, yes. He accounted for insulation, voltage gradients, tuning, and corona losses. His design didn’t rely on brute force, but on resonant rise and impulse excitation. Tesla even addressed concerns over losses in the Earth—his system treated the planet not as a passive resistor but as an active component of the circuit, capable of sustaining standing waves.

Wardenclyffe wasn’t a failure of science. It was a casualty of cost, politics, and misunderstanding. Tesla’s system wasn’t just about wireless power—it was about turning the entire planet into a resonant electrical system. His use of electrostatics, high-frequency resonance, and spherical terminals was decades ahead of its time—and still worth studying today.

“The present is theirs; the future, for which I really worked, is mine.” —Nikola Tesla

[sesamestreep]

said i'm a good man in a storm

(read on ao3)

(read the whole series here)

SUMMARY: The White House brings Matt in to help with polling after the State of the Union address. Foggy suffers as only Christ before him has. [AKA - more of the Daredevil/West Wing AU] A/N: full tags and warnings via the AO3 link but this one's a pretty chill time for once.

“When am I going to have numbers, Murdock?”

Matt’s head pops up from behind a computer monitor, where he was presumably talking to one of the callers about something that Foggy prays was important enough to warrant distracting them from their goal. “What did I tell you last time?” he calls back across the room.

“15 minutes,” Foggy shouts.

“How long ago was that?”

Foggy checks his watch. “Ten minutes or so.”

“So…five minutes,” Matt says, with an innocent grin that says he’s shocked Foggy can’t do the math himself.

“You’re sure it won’t be sooner?”

“I’m certain it won’t be sooner, but if you keep bugging me, it will sure as hell be later than that,” Matt replies breezily, and goes back to his conversation.

Before Foggy can make what he’s sure will end up being an equally clever retort, he feels a hand on his elbow. Turning, he finds Karen glaring at him, which is just great. Apparently he’s on everyone’s nerves tonight.

“What?” he snaps.

Karen’s glare intensifies. “Try that again.”

Foggy sighs, and then tries to relax and unclench every muscle in his body. “What do you need, Karen?” he asks, more gently this time.

“I need a cup of coffee,” she says, “by which I mean, you need a cup of coffee, or a doughnut, or a handful of Twizzlers from the kitchen. Anything that will keep your mouth occupied so you don’t bother Matt to death before we’re done with polling!”

“I don’t need any of that stuff,” Foggy grumbles. “I need numbers!”

Karen winces, which must mean he shouted that last part. He can’t honestly tell anymore, because he’s been running on fumes all week, but especially tonight, now that the President has given the State of the Union address and, in Foggy’s completely biased opinion, it was a remarkable tour de force of statecraft that left him buzzing with adrenaline. He just needs numbers that tell him other people in the country feel the same way, which is why he’s stuck at a downtown office listening to several dozen people make phone calls and wearing holes into the linoleum in his anxiety. The person standing between him and those numbers is none other than Matt Murdock.

When Jeri had talked about hiring a pollster to do some targeted polling after the State of the Union, Foggy had suggested Matt without hesitation. He’d done polling and strategy for a lot of campaigns around the country now, and everyone who worked with him recommended him. Honestly, Foggy might have tried too hard to sell him as a logical choice for the job, because Jeri had just given him a shrewd and unimpressed look and told him to put Matt into contact with the communications team to set it up. In his defense, Foggy was only worried about the whole thing reeking of favoritism on his part, though Karen is the only one who’s aware of his tragic, unrequited crush on Matt. Well, at least, he hopes she’s the only one. Marci, of course, knows him frighteningly well and Jeri is one of the most brilliant political minds in the country, so there’s every chance both of them are aware of it and just waiting for the right moment to use it against him. He’s pretty sure Ben doesn’t know, at least, but Ben is aware of Foggy’s general haplessness, so it’s possible he has his suspicions too. Matt goes a long way in allaying these suspicions by being so blissfully heterosexual and thus clueless about his effect on Foggy and also unerringly competent at his job, which makes any potential claims of favoritism seem unjustifiable.

He is, however, ruining his professional reputation right now by resolutely refusing to give Foggy the information he needs. And the fact that he doesn’t have that information to give in the first place is not an excuse. If Matt was really good at his job, he’d develop temporary psychic abilities and be able to predict the polling numbers, and also influence them to be exactly what Foggy wants to hear. But he hasn’t, presumably because he hates Foggy specifically and American democracy in general. The asshole.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re insufferable to work with?” Matt asks brightly, appearing at Foggy’s elbow without warning and making him jump clear out of his skin.

“I’m insufferable at home too,” Foggy quips when he recovers.

“Well, normally I’d demand to ask your significant other for confirmation, but I happen to know you’re single, so…”

“This is a lot of tough talk for someone who doesn’t have any polling numbers to speak of!”

“I have numbers,” Matt replies, offended. “They won’t tell you anything yet, though, so they’re not particularly useful.”

“I’d like to be the judge of that,” Foggy says, petulantly.

“I’m sure you would,” Matt says with another of his insufferable little smiles. “But unfortunately, I’m the expert here.”

Foggy sighs theatrically. “I hate this!”

“I know. You’re used to being the smartest person in the room.”

“Oh, it’s so cute that you think that’s an actual problem I have in this business,” Foggy laughs. “I meant the waiting. I hate waiting.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Matt says, sincerely.

“Next you’re going to tell me to do five Hail Mary’s.”

Matt shrugs. “Hey, it couldn’t hurt.”

“This is the political strategy and insight they pay you the big bucks for?” Foggy asks, unimpressed.

“Well, have you tried praying on it?”

“This is America, Matthew. Of course we’ve tried it! If thoughts and prayers could get it done, it’d be done already!”

“Maybe it is,” Matt says, walking away from him without turning his back. He shouldn’t be able to do cool moves like that gracefully, but he somehow does. It’s one of many things Foggy finds infuriating about him. “We’ll know in five minutes, won’t we?”

“You said five minutes three minutes ago!” Foggy calls after him, offended.

“This time I mean it,” Matt replies, over his shoulder, as he goes to check in with his assistant, an efficient grad student-type who Foggy has not seen sit or stand still for a single second since they started working together. Foggy has spent the few days Matt and his team have been in town trying to figure out if Matt’s also sleeping with her, or if they’re strictly colleagues, with no conclusive evidence on either side and it’s definitely not making him crazy at all. Not with all the other stuff taking precedence to make him crazy.

“Motherfucker,” Foggy mutters under his breath, to and about no one and nothing in particular.

Next to him, Karen shakes her head. “I like having Matt in town,” she says, mildly. “It saves me money on theater tickets.”

Foggy looks at her out of the corner of his eye. “You go to the theater often, do you?” he asks, dubious.

She glares at him again. “I’m saying, I don’t have to. Not with that kind of Noel Coward-esque wit on display two feet in front of me.”

“You’ve never seen a Noel Coward play in your life!”

“Maybe I would, if you didn’t make me work late all the time,” Karen replies, airily.

“Have I fired you yet today?” Foggy asks, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Only three times so far.”

“That’s nowhere near my record.”

“I know,” Karen tuts, unimpressed. “Should we go get you a snack?”

“But Matt said—!”

“He’s a smart boy! I trust him to find us when he has something.”

“Fine! I guess I’m overruled.”

“Yes, you are,” she says, sunnily, as she loops her arm through his and drags him bodily to the kitchen. When she deposits him at the cheap rickety plastic table set up for a break area (not that anyone has dared to take a break under Foggy’s watchful eye so far) and starts the process of boiling water for tea (because she’d never let him drink actual caffeine this late), she keeps their conversations going by asking, “So what are we polling people for?”

Foggy gives her a baleful look. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No, I mean, I know we’re polling to see how the State of the Union address went over. I get that part. But lots of people poll for that. All the major news networks, the big papers, our party, the other guys' party. We can’t just use their polling data when it’s complete?”

“Well, I have a vested interest in Matt being able to pay his rent, so I figured I’d throw some work his way.”

“I’m serious,” Karen says, as she settles in across from him at the table. “Impart to me your political wisdom and acumen! Teach me, Svengali.”

Foggy sighs mostly to disguise his laughter. “We’re asking different questions than other polls are, is the short answer.”

“Like what?”

“There are certain topics and planned initiatives and legislation that get brought up during the State of the Union, as a sort of weather balloon, and now we need to gauge the reaction to those ideas from potential voters, to help guide our strategy going forward.”

“So, it’s about re-election?” Karen asks, eyebrows raised.

“What else?” Foggy laughs.

“I didn’t know we were running for re-election yet.”

“Well, that’s the several million dollar question, isn’t it?” he replies. “But we’re governing as if we are. Because whether it’s this President or not, we’ll want a Democrat in office, and they’ll find this polling data valuable either way.”

“Seems a little ass backwards to me, all the same,” Karen says as she fidgets with the carton of Twizzlers on the table.

“A statement that can apply to a lot of things we do on a daily basis.”

“I assume we’re not just polling everybody though,” she adds. “It must be targeted, right?”

“What do you think?” Foggy asks, making a big show of perusing his doughnut options from the box on the table.

“Districts in swing states, I imagine, that could reasonably go blue in the next election,” she ventures, slightly uncertain.

“I’m starting to think you’re a ringer. You don’t really need me to teach you anything,” Foggy says, approvingly.

Karen opens her mouth to say something—or, more likely, make fun of him—but she’s interrupted by Matt entering the room.

“Dear God, please tell me you have numbers for me,” Foggy exclaims.

“42,” Matt says, simply.

“42…what?” Foggy asks, urgently. “Percent? Is that the response rate? The number of calls they’ve made so far? The number of respondents who’ve just cursed us out for calling so late? What?!”

“It’s the number of times you’ve asked me for preliminary results since polling started an hour ago,” Matt says, looking mighty pleased with himself. “I promise when I have the numbers you want, you will be able to see it on my face.”

“How?! What would that even look like?!”

“I don’t know. I’m blind. But I trust you’ll know it when you see it.”

“Like pornography,” Karen replies, and Foggy kicks her under the table.

“And with a similar effect on Foggy’s heart rate, no doubt,” Matt replies, smoothly.

“Alright, I’m glad we’re all having a great time at my expense, but you must have come in here for an actual reason,” Foggy interjects, fighting a blush. “Or is that too much to hope?”

“I’m getting some Twizzlers for Amber,” Matt says, grinning. “She snacks when she’s nervous and you’re really stressing her out.”

“Is this Amber talking? Or is it you?”

“You don’t stress me out, Foggy. Your antics amuse me.”

“I’m so glad to hear it, Matt,” Foggy responds snottily. “Good to know I can join the circus if this whole career in politics doesn’t work out.”

“You’d make an excellent clown, it must be said.”

“Yes, but where can I get more pies to the face than good ol’ Washington D.C.?”

“True enough,” Matt admits cheerfully, before clearing his throat. “I actually came in to say—and don’t freak out—we’ve had a bit of a dip in the response rate—”

“What?!”

Matt glares in his direction. “I said, don’t freak out. It’s not a big deal.”

“You came in here specifically to tell me it wasn’t a big deal?!”

“No, I came in here to get Twizzlers. Having this conversation is an unavoidable downside of that errand.”

“Why aren’t you more worried about this?” Foggy demands.

“Because the East Coast is going to bed. It’s a predictable event. We figured there could be a dip at this time and we were right.”

“Matt!”

“Relax, Foggy,” Matt says, rolling his eyes. “There’s three other timezones still awake.”

“How long until—?”

“You have numbers?” Matt finishes for him, brightly. “I’m so glad you asked! Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen?!”

“Twenty if you really want to try me.”

“I swear to God, Matt, I’ve had so little sleep this week that fighting you is starting to seem like a good plan.”

“Is this what he’s really like to work with?” Matt asks, turning his attention to Karen. “Because I had this idea of him as a charming and open-minded collaborator, and I feel like it’s been entirely shattered by these goblin-esque, numbers-obsessed antics.”

“He’s in rare form tonight,” Karen replies, giving Foggy a canny look. “Probably because you’re here. It’s like letting a kid have too much sugar at a birthday party. They just go nuts.”

“I’m literally right here,” Foggy interrupts, “and I hate both of you.”

“Fifteen minutes and I really mean it,” Matt says, still smiling.

Before Foggy can reply to that with something simultaneously witty and devastating, there’s a noise like a TV set turning off, staticky and warm, before all the lights and the appliances go off at once. There’s a moment of eerie silence—the kind that always follows the electricity going out and the hum of it being noticeably and shockingly absent—and then everyone in the next room starts murmuring in concern.

“Did…did the power just go out?” Matt asks, listening intently.

“Yep,” Foggy mutters into his hands, which are now covering his face.

“Okay, so probably a little longer than fifteen minutes,” Matt replies, easily, like this happens all the time.

“Maybe I should join the circus,” Foggy says, to no one in particular. “Because God is obviously a Republican and He fucking hates me!”

“I’ll get on the phone with the power company,” Karen says, quietly pulling out her cell phone and slipping out of the room.

“I’m going to go check in with Amber,” Matt says, hesitantly. After a split second of consideration, he puts a hand on Foggy’s shoulder. “God doesn’t hate you, Foggy. He just has a really, really dark sense of humor.”

Foggy looks up at Matt through his fingers. “Was that a pun?” he asks, miserably.

“Not an intentional one.”

Foggy buries his face in his hands once more but he can’t stop himself from laughing. “We’re so fucked!”

“We’ll be fine,” Matt replies, patting Foggy’s shoulder again. “Don’t panic.”

“Right,” Foggy says, slumping back into his seat rather than do what he wants, which is to take Matt’s hand on his shoulder into his own and squeeze it like it’s one of those rubber stress toys. “You’re right.”

“I know I am. I gotta go talk to everybody, okay?”

“Sure.”

“You’ll be alright on your own?”

“I’m not bleeding out, Matt. Go do your job. I’m fine.”

Matt doesn’t look convinced, but he nods and heads off anyway. Right after he disappears through the doorway, Karen returns, with her flip phone pressed to her ear, looking harried.

“Is that the power company?” Foggy asks, urgently.

“Yes.”

“What do they say? When are we getting power back?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to a person yet,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But Jeri called me first.”

“How did she hear about the outage so fast?”

“She didn’t. She needs you back at the West Wing as soon as possible.”

“Is something wrong?”

“She didn’t say, but she and the President are calling a meeting with all of senior staff, so…”

“Something’s wrong,” Foggy supplies. He checks his watch, and swears quietly to himself. “Alright, I’ll head back there now.”

“Do you want me to come with? Or stay here and keep you posted?”

“You’d better stay. I trust you to ride herd on everybody once the power is back up. And on the electric company, if it isn’t.”

“Okay,” Karen nods solemnly. “I have my phone if you need me, obviously.”

“Good. I’ll check in.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” she says, wryly, and Foggy mimes puckering up to give her a big kiss, making her wrinkle her nose in distaste.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he says as he heads out, and realizes belatedly that she’s genuinely made him smile for the first time in hours.

*

“Foggy, do you have a minute?” Ben asks, just as senior staff is beginning to make their way out of the Oval Office. The meeting Jeri called turned out to be apprising them all of a hostage situation in Colombia that the President and the Joint Chiefs are currently monitoring, and which no one on staff seems to be able to agree what constitutes a good solution. Foggy’s strong suit has always been domestic policy, not foreign, but they need everyone’s best ideas tonight, it seems. If only anyone had some left after the State of the Union.

Foggy checks his watch, even though it makes him feel like an asshole. “Yes, but just one,” he says, apologetically. “I need to get back to the call center at National Strategies and see what the situation is there.”

“I heard about the power outage,” Ben replies, with a sympathetic look. “That’s tough luck.”

“It’s going around tonight,” Foggy says.

“Hard to believe we were worried about the State of the Union only a few hours ago, huh?”

“Speak for yourself. Until I have those polling numbers, I’m still worried.”

Ben laughs. “Fair enough. My part’s over, at least.”

“It was a hell of a speech, Ben,” Foggy says. “You and Marci should be proud of yourselves. You should have gotten to rest on your laurels for more than twenty minutes over it, too, but that’s how it goes sometimes, I guess.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” Ben says, stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning in the doorway of his office that they’ve just reached. “Listen, I don’t want to hold you up too much and I know it’s not the best time, but I wanted to ask about Matt.”

Foggy’s heart suddenly hammers in his chest, worse than when he heard about the hostage crisis or when he sat through the State of the Union earlier tonight. There’s something wrong with him, clearly, but he didn’t anticipate Ben of all people bringing this up.

“What about him?” he asks, fairly evenly despite the circumstances.

“How’s he doing?”

“Uh…he seems well enough to me. Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m just asking how he’s handling the pressure,” Ben says, giving him a questioning look. “It’s a larger scale project than he’s done before and at a much higher level, reporting to the White House.”

“Oh, right,” Foggy responds, relieved. “I mean, he’s doing really well. Between my constant badgering and the power outage, nothing has seemed to phase him whatsoever. He’s confident. Steady. Uh…is that…what you were looking for?”

“More or less,” Ben says, still wary. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No! Of course not. Why?”

“You just seem fairly stressed at being asked to give a performance review for this consultant after you recommended him in the first place, and that seems…odd.”

Foggy runs a hand over his face. “No, no. It’s not that. I’m just worried about the power being out and the effect on the poll. I—don’t want to praise or criticize his work before it’s complete, is all. It doesn’t feel fair.”

“I hear you,” Ben says, tipping his head in acknowledgement. “But just based on what you’ve seen so far, he’s doing well?”

“Yeah,” Foggy nods. “Matt’s a complete pro. There’s a reason everybody wants to work with him.”

“That’s kind of why I was asking,” Ben replies, looking around conspiratorially. “Just between us, we’ve started talking to potential campaign managers, for the re-election bid.”

“Are we running for re-election?” Foggy asks, keeping his voice low. “Because there’s been some confusion around that.”

“We’re keeping our options open at the moment, but I think we will. And we need to start having those conversations now, even if we’re not totally ready to pull the trigger, so to speak.”

Foggy winces at the metaphor, but nods anyway. “Sure. But what does that have to do with Matt?”

“Nearly every campaign manager we’ve spoken to so far wants to bring in someone to do polling and strategy, and it’d be a huge help for us in Communications too,” Ben says. “Your boy’s name has come up more than once as the guy to hire.”

Foggy ignores that reference to Matt being ‘his boy’, because either Ben is joking, in which case his overreacting to it will only make him look bad, or Ben is trying to gauge his reaction, which means he really can’t afford to respond to it with anything more than a shrug. But it does take an embarrassing amount of effort to rein himself in.

“Yeah,” Foggy replies, nonchalant. “He’s in demand for a reason.”

“So, you think it’s a good idea? Bringing him on full time?”

Foggy has to really consider this, unfortunately. On a purely intellectual level, it’s a no-brainer. These potential campaign managers are right that they’ll need someone to do more polling on this scale regularly, and they’re right that Matt’s the guy to hire. There are other people, obviously, who could do what he does, but they already know him and trust him. It’s not just Foggy who thinks he’s great, after all.

Then again, Foggy does think he’s great. Maybe too great. And if Matt gets hired for the re-election campaign, that’s almost two years of having to work with him every day, worried about other people catching on to his stupid crush. Or worse, Matt catching on to it. Foggy will have to be on his guard at all times, and being in that kind of close contact with Matt every day, his crush will only get worse. It seems like the sort of thing that can only end in embarrassment and rejection for Foggy.

But all of that is a stupid reason to stand in the way of what’s ultimately a huge opportunity for Matt. Whatever Foggy’s hang ups might be, part of having feelings for Matt is wanting the best for him, and this job would be a huge step up in his career. And Matt’s ambitious—it’s one of many things Foggy admires about him—so he’ll definitely see the value in working with them and he’ll likely seize the chance. Foggy would have to be a monster to stand in the way of that.

“I think it’s a smart move,” he tells Ben sincerely.

“Alright,” Ben says, with a nod. “We’ll have to see how he does with this project first, but I agree. I think he’s the guy for the job.”

“Right.”

“You’ll let me know if your assessment changes over the next few days?”

Foggy knows it won’t, but he nods anyway. “Absolutely.”

“Thanks, Foggy. Oh, and keep this under your hat for now? I don’t want to approach Matt with it until it’s a done deal on our end.”

“Sure,” Foggy says. “Our secret.”

“Appreciate it,” Ben replies, pushing off the door frame. “I won’t keep you any longer. Good luck with the power company.”

“We’ll need it,” Foggy calls back, already turning towards his office so he can grab his coat and head out.

*

When Foggy finally gets back to National Strategies—after a cab ride from hell in the sudden downpour of freezing rain, because this night needs more exciting variables than it already has—he almost collides with Karen, who’s ducking out onto the street and fussing with an umbrella at the same time.

“Ah, Jesus, Foggy,” she yelps, and steps back, swinging the umbrella away from him, “I didn’t see you there.”

Foggy is distracted by how narrowly Karen has avoided stepping in a hideously slushy puddle with her suede heels and takes a second to refocus on the fact that she’s speaking to him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I am,” she laughs, nervously. “I could have killed you.”

“I wish I could say with confidence that I’m tough enough to withstand an umbrella attack from you, but I know that’s not true,” Foggy jokes. “I think you’re resourceful enough to kill me with almost anything.”

“Well, you’re lucky I love you, then.”

Something about the way she says it—looking away at the umbrella like she still might open it, even though they’re completely protected by the building’s awning, and sounding less like she’s teasing him the way she usually would and more like she really means it—draws Foggy up short. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Karen asks, whipping her head up so quickly to look at him that a silken section of her hair cascades over her shoulder dramatically, giving her the appearance of a wronged woman in a film noir. It nearly looks like she did it on purpose. She tucks the flamboyant lock of hair behind her ear nervously a second later.

“You never tell me you love me earnestly,” Foggy says. “It’s always a set up to telling me I’m an idiot or that I’ve got mustard on my tie or that I’d die without you.”

Karen smiles bleakly. “All of which are true.”

“Goddammit,” Foggy exclaims, grabbing at his tie. “I haven’t even had any mustard today!”

Karen reaches out and takes his hand. “I was kidding.”

Foggy holds her hand right back, even more tightly. “So, what is it? What’s the matter? Is it the power company?”

“No,” she replies, shaking her head. “They said we’d have power back in 30 minutes and that was twenty minutes ago, but also before this rain started.”

“So, it could be longer.”

“Yeah.”

“What is it, then?” Foggy asks. “What’s with the face?”

“I’m going to get pizza for everybody,” Karen says, gesturing back towards the building. “The outage is from a blown transformer, so it’s only a few square blocks that are affected. I found a pizza place that’s not too far and they still have power, so I’m headed there now.”

“Okay…well, I know that’s not why you look so glum. Pizza has never, in the history of the world, made anyone less happy. And you could have sprang for delivery if you didn’t want to walk, you know I’m not that cheap, so…”

Karen sighs, tucking her hands under her arms and stamping her feet for warmth. “Will you walk with me?”

Foggy would normally bitch and moan and make her convince him, because that’s who they are, but Karen seems off right now and he’s a lot more interested in making her feel better and figuring out if he needs to break anyone’s kneecaps in defense of her honor (not that he’s the guy to go to for that second thing, because he’s a lover not a fighter, generally speaking, but if there was really no one else for the job, he could do it and he would do it for Karen and maybe no one else on earth) than he is in keeping up their usual banter.

So, he says, “Of course,” and holds out his arm for her to loop hers through. He also gently pries the umbrella from her hands and gallantly opens it for her. In these particular shoes, Karen is still slightly shorter than him, so it’s more convenient for him to hold the umbrella anyway. She ducks under its protection gratefully and they start walking in the direction she drags him.

“My condition for walking in the freezing rain was that you’d tell me what’s going on, you know,” Foggy says after a block or so.

Karen heaves an enormous sigh, like he’s really taxing her limitless stores of patience by caring about her feelings, but she squeezes in closer to his side under the umbrella too, so she must not be that put out. “It’s stupid,” she says, ultimately, which tells him exactly nothing.

“Well, that doesn’t narrow it down at all. Everything you deal with on a daily basis is some shade of stupid or another.”

“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” she replies, in a small voice, sounding very much unlike herself. Karen doesn’t really cower or back down from anything. She’s confident and direct almost to a fault. So, when she makes herself small like that, Foggy knows to really worry.

“Jesus, you’re making me nervous,” he exclaims, grabbing her hand where it still rests on his arm, “I won’t be mad! I promise. Just…out with it, please.”

Karen still looks nervous, but after a second, she says, “While you were off at the senior staff meeting, the rest of us were just sitting around, waiting for the power to come back on, so I was talking to Matt and Amber, trying to, you know, pass the time and get to know them better…”

“Right,” Foggy nods, still not clear on the source of her distress. “That’s not a fireable offense, you know. I didn’t expect you to fix the transformer yourself.”

“No, I know. I just…I may have been trying to figure out if there’s anything going on between them.”

“Between Matt and his assistant?”

“Yeah. I mean, you said that you thought—”

“Oh, God, I was joking,” Foggy laughs. “I mean, not that it doesn’t happen, of course. And, to be honest, I think better of Matt than that, but it also wouldn’t be the worst thing I could learn about him if he did, occasionally—”

“They’re not hooking up,” Karen interrupts, with a pitying look.

“Thank God,” Foggy replies, squeezing her arm. “I really wasn’t doing a good job acting cool about that, was I?”

“I thought you were going to pull something, honestly.”

“Me too.”

“Amber worked with him on the Bryant campaign—she was Bryant’s personal aide, in fact—and now she goes to grad school at Georgetown,” Karen supplies, back in familiar territory. “He said he didn’t know anyone else in town who’d be able to help on such short notice, and he thinks Amber’s great.”

Foggy narrows his eyes at her. “So, he wants to sleep with her, is what you’re saying.”

“I may have more or less implied that…”

“Karen!”

“I wanted intel, Foggy!”

Foggy pauses for another second to drive home how little he approves of her methods before he relents and asks, “And?”

“I said she seemed like a nice girl and very pretty—”

“Good grief! You’re worse than my nana!”

Karen shoots him a warning glare. “And Matt agreed that she was, on both counts, but said he had a policy of not dating people at work, especially subordinates after a, and I’m quoting here, ‘messy experience’.”

“Well, that’s smart,” Foggy says, now thinking about what Ben just told him about Matt potentially working for the campaign and ignoring the stab of disappointment in his chest. Not that Matt would date him anyway, but…well, that’s unfortunately all there is to it, in the end.

“I think so too,” Karen replies, still quiet in that suspicious way that makes him worry.

“None of this sounds that bad to me, you know. I don’t understand why you’re acting like you killed a mockingbird.”

Karen sighs again, and shakes some errant hair out of her face nervously. “It’s just that…this discussion paved the way for him to ask about me and you.”

Foggy nearly misses a step on the slushy sidewalk, but he catches himself in time. “What about me and you?”

“Just how we seem so close and we’re always joking around with each other and we spend so much time together…”

“Yeah…?”

“And how—Matt said this, not me—that must create opportunities for, you know, feelings to develop.”

“That sounds like a very Matt way of putting it, yes.”

“And when I said that we were close, but not like that, he sort of…didn’t believe me.”

“It is hard to believe,” Foggy replies, solemnly, just to watch Karen’s head whip around in disbelief. He tries to keep up the facade for another moment. “I mean, look at me, Karen. I’m gorgeous! It’s a miracle you’ve held back this long.”

“Foggy,” Karen groans, shaking her head.

“I know, okay? I’m just kidding. But who cares if Matt doesn’t believe you? What does his opinion matter?”

“It’s just he was so insistent!” Karen exclaims, gesturing broadly with her free hand. “Like two people couldn’t work as closely as we do and get along like we do and not be in love with each other.”

“We are in love with each other.”

“We are?”

“I mean, maybe not ‘in love,’ exactly,” Foggy replies. “But we do love each other. We’re like family now.”

“So you see me as a sister?”

“God, no! You’re…you’re my best friend, except that I pay you, which does make it kind of weird. And you’re my right hand man, except that you’re a woman. And you’re just…you’re Karen! I don’t know! You defy easy categorization!”

Karen looks up thoughtfully, like she’s pondering the stars, except they can’t see them now anyway with all the clouds. “Maybe this speaks to how co-dependent and weird our bond is these days, but honestly? That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“You need better friends,” Foggy jokes, but squeezes her hand on his arm.

Karen shakes her head at him. “Matt seems to think attraction, at the very least, is inevitable, in a situation like ours.”

“Well, maybe that says more about Matt than it does about us.”

“You think?”

“I—” Foggy hesitates, but Karen does seem actually upset by this, and honesty feels like the only real solution to that. “You know I think you’re beautiful. I hope that’s okay to—I don’t want to make you uncomfortable here.”

Karen offers him a small smile. “I appreciate that, but I know you and I trust you. It’s fine.”

“So, then, to Matt’s point, I am attracted to you. You’re beautiful and smart and good at what you do and kind. These are all things that make me attracted to people normally, and you’re no exception.”

“Okay…”

“But I think, I don’t know—I think sometimes you just miss the window and things never escalate beyond a sort of objective attraction. Does that make sense?”

“I think so, yes. You’re saying we’re past the point where that could happen between us?”

“Yeah. It’s like—you notice the spark and you either nurture it and build it into a real flame or you let it smolder until it eventually goes out. And we didn’t do that. We were doing other things with our lives.”

“Like, winning a presidential election…”

“For example,” Foggy says, smiling. “I mean, that’s how I see it, at least. How do you feel?”

“Me?” Karen asks, bewildered. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re not in love with me, right? I didn’t somehow miss that?”

“Well, as you said, you are gorgeous.”

“I know,” Foggy sighs, dramatically.

“You’re right,” she says, thoughtfully. “I mean, I do love you. You’re maybe the most important person in my life—”

“We really gotta do something about that,” Foggy interjects, shaking his head sadly.

“You could let me leave the office before midnight more often,” Karen suggests.

“Alright, let’s not go crazy.”

Karen laughs, which is a good sound after all that worrying. “I just mean that when you hired me as your assistant—”

“I don’t recall having much choice in the matter, as a point of fact.”

“When you hired me,” Karen continues, “you gave me this life and I love it and I appreciate it.”

“Well, good.”

“But I’m not in love with you,” Karen admits, quietly. “Not in this universe, at least.”

Foggy knew that already, but hearing it out loud still feels bittersweet. It’s not often people feel compelled to tell you they don’t love you, after all. He’ll have to thank Matt for this dubious honor when they get back.

“So, you’re saying I still have a chance in another universe?” he jokes, instead.

“Oh, for sure,” Karen smiles. “In another universe, we’re probably, like, stupid in love with each other!”

“Probably in a couple of universes,” Foggy agrees, enjoying the warmth of her smile.

She rubs his arm like she’s trying to warm him up. “Loads of them, I imagine.”

“That was all then? Matt gave you an existential crisis because he couldn’t figure out why we weren’t dating.”

Karen’s smile dims again and she looks away. “No, that’s not it.”

“Well, then? Do I need to challenge him to a duel, or what?”

“I just might have gone too hard in denying you and I had something going on…”

“So, he doesn’t believe you?”

“No, I just—I think I did convince him eventually because he kind of…asked me out?”

“Is that a question?” Foggy asks. He’s impressed that he doesn’t trip over his own feet or sputter at her or otherwise physically embarrass himself, because it felt like he might. It felt like being smacked over the head with a mallet—or, so he imagines.

Karen winces, which means his even tone and physical calm did not fool her one bit. “He said, if I’m really not seeing anyone, we should grab a drink before he heads back to New York.”

“So, he definitely asked you out?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“What did you say?”

“That I’d have to check my calendar.”

Foggy can’t help it; he cackles at that. “Karen!”

“I know,” she says, putting a hand over her face in humiliation. “I was caught off guard, okay?!”

“I’m sure you said it in a cool way,” Foggy reassures her, “like a heroine in an old screwball comedy from the 30s. Transatlantic accent and all.”

“That’s true. I always respond to romantic overtures with my Katherine Hepburn impression.”

“I know.”

“You’re really not mad?” Karen asks, looking at him sideways.

“No. Of course not!”

“Really?”

“Matt’s not mine to feel possessive over, Karen,” Foggy says, as gently as he can manage. “I get where you’re coming from, really, and it does you credit that you care about my feelings to that extent, but I’d have to be delusional to be upset with you over this.”

“It’d be okay if you were,” Karen replies, just as gently. “I know how you feel about Matt.”

Foggy waves a hand to dismiss this. “It’s a schoolgirl crush. It’s nothing serious.”

“I don’t know…”

“I do,” Foggy insists. “Even if he were into guys, which I have no reason to suspect he is, you’ve seen him, what he’s like and how he operates. He could have anybody. I don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell with him, not in this universe or any other.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Well, you’re very sweet to say so.”

“No, I mean, why would he ask me all those questions about how we could work so closely together and not develop feelings for each other if he wasn’t at least aware of your charms?”

“There’s a big difference between that and him wanting me, though, and you know that.”

“I just mean…yeah, maybe not this universe. But any other? I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Well, that’s something, at least,” Foggy replies, squeezing her arm again. “Do you think Matt and I are in love in the universe where we’re all squids or something?”

Karen elbows him in the stomach. “You’re a freak, you know that?”

“I’m extremely aware, yes,” he says, as she pulls him to a stop in front of an unassuming storefront with a neon light advertising hot pizza blaring out into the frigid night. It smells like garlic and warm bread and Foggy could kiss her right now for thinking to feed everyone, because he’s suddenly aware that he’s starving. “So, are you going?”

“To get the pizza? Yeah, of course, I just—”

“No, not that,” he says, pulling the door open to the sound of a bell overhead. “I meant, are you going to accept Matt’s invitation?”

“What? No! No way!”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s—and you would—it just wouldn’t be—!”

“Do you like him?” Foggy asks as they step into the restaurant and stamp slush off their shoes.

“You know I think Matt’s great,” Karen answers, frowning at him as he tries to collapse the umbrella.

“So, what’s the problem?”

“He’s your crush!”

“Yes, but I already said—”

“I know what you said but that doesn’t change anything for me.”

“You’re too loyal for your own good,” Foggy says, shaking his head at her. “But despite what I’ve got doodled in all the margins of my notebooks, I’m not Mrs. Matt Murdock. I have no claim on him.”

“Too bad,” Karen replies, stubbornly. “I’m giving you dibs.”

“Karen,” Foggy sighs, “if you really like him, you should—”

“And if I really, really liked him that way, I would,” she interjects, nonplussed. She even shrugs. “But I don’t. Not like that. He’s handsome, sure, and charming.”

“And he’s got a good job and he cares about the same issues you do. Why would you ever want to date someone like that?”

“He also lives in New York and travels for work constantly. We’d basically never see each other. And I’m not looking for something as casual as what Matt and I could manage. I could do that with someone you don’t have feelings for just as easily and I’ll sleep much better at night besides.”

Foggy hesitates again, but his conscience won’t let him lie, not even by omission. Karen gets his best, no exceptions. “And what if that wasn’t an obstacle anymore?” he asks, carefully. “Would that change anything for you?”

“What do you mean?” Karen asks, as they approach the counter. Once there, she’s distracted by a stoned-looking teenager who asks for the name on her order. After they disappear to retrieve it from the kitchen for her, Karen returns her attention to Foggy and raises an eyebrow at him, telling him she’s still waiting for an answer.

“What if Matt was going to live here?” Foggy asks, his throat feeling tight. “What if he worked here?”

Karen looks at him for a long moment, searchingly. “You mean…?”

“It’s not official yet, so if anyone asks, you know nothing,” Foggy says, even though he knows he can trust her without qualification. “But Ben wants to hire Matt to work on the campaign, assuming this trial period goes well.”

“The re-election campaign?”

“The very one.”

“So, he’d be here, and on the road with us?”

“Yes.”

“For the next…two years?” Karen clarifies, after doing the math in her head.

“Yes,” Foggy replies. “I’m asking, does that change anything?”

Karen looks like she’s still processing, but her eyes meet his at that question and her gaze hardens and her shoulders go back. “No,” she says, firmly.

“Karen…”

“It doesn’t change anything for me, Foggy. I mean it.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am,” she nods. “Besides, if that does happen, Matt and I would be colleagues and he wouldn’t want to be involved with me anyway, per his own rule.”

“I have a hunch that’s more of a flexible guideline for Matt than a hard and fast rule,” Foggy says, leaning his weight against the counter. “He might make an exception for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” Karen asks, confused.

“Someone as great as you,” Foggy explains.

Karen’s eyes soften and she tips her head to the side, considering him. Before Foggy can ask what she’s thinking, she surges forward and pulls him into a hug. Foggy’s a little taken aback at first but once he recovers, he hugs back, letting his arms squeeze around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she says, still holding him.

“For what?”

“This is going to be tough for you, I think.”

“Oh,” Foggy says, deflating a little. He feels small and pitiful in a way he doesn’t usually allow himself to feel and, while he’s safe with Karen, it still doesn’t feel nice. “I’ll live.”

Karen pulls back to consider him. “I know, but…”

“It’ll probably help,” Foggy lies, blithely, forcing a smile. “If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then constant presence probably makes the heart cold and indifferent. Right?”

“Right,” Karen replies, gamely but with obvious uncertainty. “You’ll probably figure out that you hate the way he chews and that he’s a bad tipper and, um…”

“Thinks the Earth is flat,” Foggy finishes for her.

“Exactly! Things that will only come up with routine, daily contact!”

“For two years,” Foggy says, bleakly.

“He might say no!” Karen offers, changing tack.

“He won’t, though.”

Karen shakes her head, sadly. “No, but it never hurts to hope, right?”

Foggy pats her shoulders and steps out of her arms. “I have a lot of anecdotal evidence to the contrary, unfortunately.”

Karen regards him sadly and puts a hand lightly on his sleeve. “I really am sorry.”

“No need,” he replies, gently removing her hand. “This is how it goes sometimes.”

“Still.”

“It’s not like we’re soulmates or something, Karen. He’s just a guy I know!”

Karen looks at him with even more pity now, which he wasn’t aware was possible a second ago. “Still,” she says, quietly.

“Yeah,” Foggy says, softly. “Thanks.”

“If I can be a complete traitor for one second,” Karen adds, leaning her hip against the counter, “I am glad to hear Ben wants to bring him on.”

“So am I, aside from all the personal reservations,” Foggy replies, “and those are largely stupid, anyway.”

“I get where you’re coming from, though.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should stand in the way of Matt’s career. If I’m really his friend, I should be happy for him!”

“And aren’t you?”

Foggy pauses to consider and finds, somewhere deep in his heart, past the surface level disappointment and worry, there is a vein of excitement and genuine pleasure at the idea of Matt moving up in the world and getting something that Foggy knows he wants. “Yes,” he says, fiddling with the buttons on his coat.

“Really?”

“Yes. Completely. It’s—he deserves it! He works hard and he’s great at what he does! I want every success imaginable for him!”

Karen nods, as if she’s proven something just now. “Well, there you go!”

“There I go…what?”

“There’s your proof that you’re really Matt’s friend and you’re a good person and you’re not selfish, or whatever else it is you’re worried about.”

“I was—” Foggy stops and shakes his head. “Thank you, Karen.”

“No problem.”

“I’m going to grab us a cab, because I’m not walking all the way back in this weather, not with you in those heels and us both having to smell pizza the whole time.”

“Good idea,” Karen replies. “I’ll meet you outside when I’ve got everything.”

It takes both of them and the teenager behind the counter (not to mention the extreme patience of the cab driver who probably could have picked up a more convenient fare anywhere in this weather) to get everything from their order into the cab, which means that both the teenager and the driver get considerable tips. They get back to the National Strategies office in one piece and in relatively short order, though, and Foggy and Karen are working to distribute pizza boxes evenly between them without impairing their field of vision when Amber appears in order to help them.

“If you just grab the door, that’ll help a lot, I think,” Foggy says, as she reaches to take some of the boxes from him.

“Well, I just thought,” she starts, and then shakes her head. “Matt wants to talk to you, when you have a second, so I thought I’d free you up to go see him.”

Foggy exchanges a look with Karen, before handing a bag to Amber. “This will only take a minute. I’m sure he’ll manage.”

“Okay,” Amber replies, uncertainly, but she goes to prop the door open with her hip. Once Karen and Foggy are past her and through the door, she lets it close behind her, and adds, “I cleaned off a table up front so there’d be room for the food.”

“Good thinking,” Karen says, with a nod.

“Well, we haven’t had much else to do with the power out,” she says, tucking a curly strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s back now, though,” Karen notes, approvingly.

“Yeah, just,” Amber says, sounding tired. “That’s why Matt needs to talk to you, Mr. Nelson.”

“Oh, God,” Foggy says, as he deposits the pizza boxes on the empty table. “Amber, please! Don’t make me make the ‘Mr. Nelson is my father’ joke with you!”

Amber frowns at him, clearly puzzled. “The what?”

Foggy sticks his hand out to her, like he’s introducing himself. “Mr. Nelson’s my father, call me Foggy.”

Amber throws a desperate look at Karen before taking his hand and shaking it dubiously. “Right. Foggy.”

“Unless you’d rather make me feel old and out of touch?”

She finally cracks a smile at that. “No. Sorry.”

“Good,” he says, taking his hand back and turning his attention to Karen as she begins arranging the pizza boxes on the table with ruthless efficiency according to some system only she’s privy to. “Uh, what else can I do to help?”

“Go talk to Matt,” Karen replies, without even looking over her shoulder at him. “We’re good here.”

“Are you sure? I can—”

She does turn towards him then, but only to shoot him a less-than-impressed look. “Are you implying that between myself and Amber we can’t figure out how to open a few pizza boxes?”

Foggy looks over at Amber, who’s wearing a reluctantly amused expression that she turns on him a second later. Foggy mimes loosening his collar to really solidify himself as a weird old man in Amber’s mind, corny sitcom sight gags and all, and then holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright. You got me there. I’ll go bug Matt.”

“He’s in the back office,” Amber puts in helpfully, as she goes to arrange some paper plates and napkins on the table alongside the food.

“Thank you,” Foggy replies, and heads in that direction. Once he gets to the office, separated from the open bullpen area the callers have been working from by a partially windowed wall, he knocks on the doorframe to announce himself.

“Yeah?” Matt calls back, barely pivoting his attention from whatever it is he’s doing—which, as near as Foggy can tell, mostly involves sitting in the dark. Clearly, no one told him the power had come back on. Then again, what should Matt care about the lights being on or off?

“It’s Foggy. Amber said you wanted me.”

“Desperately,” Matt says, cracking a smile.

“She said you wanted to speak to me, you menace,” Foggy replies, rolling his eyes even as his face heats. Something about the conversation he just had with Karen has sapped the fun out of flirting with Matt. He’s never really had any hope anything would come from it, of course; he’s not that delusional. But now it’s like he has the feeling of participating in a joke at his own expense and it doesn’t feel good at all.

“Of course. What did you think I meant?” Matt asks, innocently as he rises and comes around to sit on the front corner of the desk.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this instead of eating pizza.”

Matt crosses his arms over his chest and his smile evaporates as he tips his chin downward. “I’m sorry. I joke when I’m nervous.”

“You? Nervous?” Foggy asks, astonished. “That’s something new and different.”

Matt frowns at him suddenly. “Hey, I think I’ve kept it together pretty well so far and I don’t—”

“No, exactly,” Foggy interjects. “I was being literal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you nervous before.”

That, for some reason, makes Matt laugh. “Oh, yes, you have.”

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t. You’re a very cool customer normally.”

“Then I’m an extremely talented faker, which was always what the nuns said about me in school, so…”

“Okay, I feel like you probably have something important to tell me right now, so I’m not going to take that obvious bait for a side track, but we are absolutely coming back around to that insane bit of backstory you just casually dropped right there.”

“Appreciated.”

“Yeah, so what’s going on, then? And make it quick, because you being nervous is making me nervous.”

Matt chews on his lip in a very distracting manner, which does nothing to help Foggy’s nerves. “I think we should suspend polling for the night.”

“Alright.”

“Now, look, I know what you’re going to say and it’s—sorry…‘alright’?” Matt blinks at him, baffled and betrayed at once. “You’ve been hounding me all night about how important these numbers are and you’re ready to call off polling that quickly?! With no arguments whatsoever?!”

Foggy sighs and leans against the door jamb. “I assumed you were going to give me your reasoning next and I also figured, given how you’re an expert and all and I trust you, that your reasoning would be sound. Am I wrong?”

“Are you—? No! Of course not, I’m just surprised.”

“So. Why suspend the poll?”

“Everybody except the West coast is asleep now and we’re quickly approaching the point where we’d have to stop calling altogether,” Matt explains. “By the time we get everyone back online and calling again, we’d have maybe 20 minutes left before the West coast goes to bed. We’ve lost the momentum. We pick back up tomorrow night, refreshed, and we’ll still get good data. It won’t be the same pure reactions we were anticipating to the speech, but people will have the benefit of the news cycle, talking to their co-workers about the State of the Union, forming a real opinion.”

“They could also forget what the President actually said by tomorrow,” Foggy says. “Our results could be skewed.”

“We’ll have to do polling tomorrow anyway, to capture the time zones we missed tonight. For morale and for practicality’s sake, I say we come back fresh tomorrow.”

“And if I got the President on the line and asked you to defend this decision, that’s what you’d say?”

Something stubborn comes into the set of Matt’s jaw then. Stubborn and attractive, but that last part is no surprise anymore. “Yes. I’d say this to anybody.”

“And if our results tomorrow are inconclusive or unhelpful on the issues we’re worried about?”

“That’s on me,” Matt says with a defiant shrug. “But I don’t see a better way to play the cards we’ve been dealt.”

“Me neither,” Foggy says, with another sigh. “Consider your decision co-signed.”

Matt deflates a little, as his defiance is no longer needed. “Thank you, Foggy.”

“Don’t thank me. I’ll still throw you to the wolves if this breaks bad.”

“You won’t,” Matt says, cheerfully, because he has no idea what’s at stake and Foggy can’t even tell him.

“This impression you have of me as Mr. Softee, who’s a sweetheart to everyone, is misguided, you know,” Foggy replies, because it’s never too soon to put distance between them if Matt’s going to end up working for the campaign. It will suck right now, but it might be better for everyone in the long run. “Nobody makes it to where I am by being a nice guy. Your earlier assessment that I’m a pain in the ass to work for and with was correct. I am not being kind by taking your advice, I am trusting your professional judgment.”

Matt cocks his head to the side, considering him. “So, you showing up at Sunday Mass after our terrible first meeting to apologize and encourage me despite my campaign’s dismal prospects was…what? Some Machiavellian ploy beyond my ken? Because I think it was probably just something a nice person would do, personally.”

“I can feel guilt on occasion and still be a fucking nightmare to work for, Matt. Please. Be serious.”

“I am serious,” Matt replies with an easy smile. “I don’t know why you’re trying to act tough with me now—”

“I didn’t say I was tough, I just meant—”

“But it’s not going to work,” Matt interjects, pushing off the desk in a way that has to be intentionally sultry because there’s just no way anyone can look that hot by only standing up, “Mr. Softee.”

Foggy swallows, because Matt stepped closer to say that last part. “If that nickname catches on, I’ll know who to blame…”

“See? You can’t even threaten me properly! Some nightmare you are!”

“Alright, well, this conversation is officially way less fun than pizza, so I’m leaving,” Foggy says, and turns to do just that. He’s stopped by Matt’s hand on his elbow.

“I am sorry for teasing you,” Matt says, looking at least halfway contrite, which is pretty good for him, all things considered. “It’s just that the one thing you’re never going to be able to convince me of is that you’re some kind of opportunist asshole. I know better.”

Foggy swallows hard. This is exactly what they need to avoid if they're going to be working together. “You really don’t know me that well, Matt. Not enough to be saying anything that definitively.”

Matt smiles at him indulgently. “And you really have seen me nervous before. At our first meeting. I was terrified.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Foggy says, and Matt’s beautiful, long eyelashes splay across his cheek as he directs his gaze towards the floor. “Did fool me, I guess.”

“You put me at ease.”

“I pissed you off pretty instantly, from what I remember.”

“Yeah, well,” Matt says, with a dangerous smile that does support the veracity of him having a long history of infuriating nuns, “I’m pretty comfortable with anger, as an emotion.”

“You’d have to be, in our line of work.”

“People don’t stay terrified in your presence, is what I’m saying, Foggy. You’re one of the good ones.”

“God, you sound like my mother,” Foggy laughs, “next you’re going to ask how I’m still single!”

“I have been wondering…”

“Oh, yeah? How much?”

Matt gives him a light shove. “Go get pizza,” he says, with a laugh. “I’m sorry I tried to express gratitude for you backing me up. That was clearly a mistake.”

“One I hope you’ll learn from,” Foggy replies. He pauses in the doorway, though. He just can't help himself. “You’ve got good instincts, Matt, and you’re smart.”

Matt looks confused for a moment, not following the change in subject. “Alright…”

“Makes it very easy to be nice to you,” Foggy adds, and watches the words land as Matt’s expression clears into a brilliant smile.

“God, you were right,” Matt replies. “You’re an absolute monster. How does anyone work with you?”

You’re about to find out, Foggy thinks but can't say as he leaves the office and puts on the bravest face he can muster. Two years. This is going to be brutal.

*

[coldbrewghoul]

Benevolent Justification - Richtofen/Reader One Shot

Richtofen has been stressed for days as trouble with a project evades his ability to solve it. When you take matters (him) into your own hands you learn that your hands might be the first ones to touch him that way besides his own... (灬♥ω♥灬)

The man was stressed, which was usual–your favorite doctor always wore a constant frown to the point that there were deep wrinkles etched between his eyebrows–but this was worse than normal. You’d been helping him out for days now as he futzed with his new teleporter design, cursing under his breath in German, and at this point you weren’t sure when the last time he’d slept was. The last time you brought him food it went cold and ended up in the trash bin. You’d done your best to check his math for him, hand him the tools he asked for, and keep his coffee mug full, but engineering was beyond you and that seemed to be where the fault lay. Something, somewhere in the device, was not functioning like it was supposed to.

“I really think the best thing to do at this point is to take a break from it, work on something else for a while,” you tried to convince him, not so subtly pushing the plate hosting a cream cheese bagel a little closer to him.

“There is nothing else more important than this! I can’t let myself get distracted,” he snapped. You didn’t take it personally. Lately everything he said to everyone, including words of gratitude, came with a heavy dose of anger in the tone.

“Maybe getting distracted is exactly what you need. You’ve been beating your head against this for a while now. Your forehead’s becoming flat,” you teased. He gave you a scathing look before turning back to the blueprints spread across his desk.

You sighed. It was like he was so stressed he couldn’t even think clearly enough to see that you were right. His brain just wasn’t going to be able to function at peak performance if he refused to take care of his emotional and physical state. You leaned your elbow on his desk, sitting in the office chair you’d rolled up to it, and stared at him. If you weren’t so concerned for his health you’d find his appearance adorable - oh what the hell, you still found it adorable. How could you not? He’d showered so the cold water would wake him up and his still damp hair wasn’t coiffed with oil the way it normally was so, despite him constantly pushing it back, strands kept falling over his forehead.

You toyed with the idea of putting sleeping pills in his next cup of coffee, but secretly drugging him seemed like a touch too extreme and you’d hate to lose his trust. He’d allowed you in his lab, allowed you to be with him almost every second of the day, and it was your most treasured privilege. You’d been harboring a crush on him for months now and, while he remained oblivious, you were determined to play the long game until he noticed you and helping him in his lab was a key component to your strategy.

Maybe the long game was the problem here? He’d been playing it with this damn teleporter design and it hadn’t gotten him anywhere. If you thought a drastic change in how he was approaching his problem would help his predicament then maybe a drastic change in your approach could help yours? You considered this as he violently erased a line on his blueprint, ripping the paper and inadvertently teaching you a new German curse word.

Before you could stop yourself, impulse took over and you stood up, grabbing his office chair and rolling it back away from the desk. He went to stand up (probably to scold you for interrupting him) but the shock of you plopping down into his lap, straddling his waist, made him pause. “What are you doing?”

“You need to take a break,” you said firmly, running your hands over his shoulders and gently massaging his upper arms. They were incredibly tense and he stifled a groan of appreciation at your touch, not wanting to encourage you to distract him.

“I need to finish fixing the damn teleporter,” he growled angrily.

“You can’t do that until you relax, reset, and come back to it with a fresh perspective.” Your hands roamed back up to his shoulders and then across his chest. He stiffened a bit as your thumb brushed over his nipples through his shirt and you were secretly thrilled that your boldness had allowed this much contact with him. He wasn’t pushing you off him yet and you wondered if you should have just done this before instead of pining for months.

“I don’t need to step away from it. I’m so close to figuring it out…” He almost moaned the words out as your thumbs pressed a line down his abs and over his waist, finding hard overworked muscles everywhere your hands roamed.

“Are you really?” Your own voice was a husky whisper as your closeness to him did terrible things to you between your legs… he was between your legs… You tried to focus and not think about it too hard. You need to remain focused on your goal: getting the damn man to relax.

“I… no,” he admitted, staring at you through half lidded eyes as your hands moved down to the parts of his thighs you weren’t sitting on, squeezing the muscles there and pushing the tension out, your thumbs pressing into his inner thighs and brushing up against his manhood. He practically jumped in his skin, startled, and his whole face flushed red. Ugh, he was just too cute. How can any man be this cute?

“Then let me help you relax…your teleporter isn’t going anywhere.” You crooned seductively, repeating the hand motion but this time purposefully running your thumb along his length.

“Well, that’s kind of the problem with it…” His breathing had become slightly laboured from your attention. The next time your thumb ran along his length he was getting hard, just starting to press up against his trousers. He became even more flustered, looking down at what your hands were doing. “Ah… fräulein, you are… your thumb… my…”

“Don’t worry, Edward, I have a basic understanding of the male anatomy,” you teased, palming his cock through his pants and being rewarded with his head falling back as the pleasure hit him. His knuckles were white as he gripped the office chair arm rests.

“You… ahhhh…”

You kept up the friction until he was rock hard, eyes widening a bit at how big he felt, and then began to unbuckle his belt. His head snapped forward, the pause in the pleasure making him regain his senses and realize what was going on. You didn’t let him get too much brain power back, immediately pressing your lips to his so you could finish undoing his pants without him finding some reason to protest him getting some much needed attention. Suddenly, his hands grabbed you, gripping your ribs and pulling you close to him as he groaned into the kiss. You took that as a sign that all systems were clear for take off, and plunged your hand into his now opened trousers, grasping him without the cloth in the way.

Oh, he was a moaner. You loved it. He was practically bruising your lips with his eager kisses and you had to wonder if he’d been harboring his own little crush from how passionately he ran his tongue across your upper lip, begging for entry. You were happy to give it to him, parting your lips so your tongue could dance with his. Between the kissing and your hand he could barely breathe; he had to break the kiss eventually, panting. “Gott… that was… so much better… than I imagined…”

Ah, so he had been pining for her. You cursed yourself for waiting so long to make the first move. Kissing his neck, you shoved his pants and drawers out of your way further to gain more access. You needed more of him, needed him to feel more of you… Wiggling out of his grasp you slipped off his lap to kneel on the floor, pushing his knees aside so you could grasp his cock and run your tongue from base to tip. It was quite the specimen of manhood, long and girthy with thick veins and a slight curve up and to the left. You needed to feel it inside you.

“Fick!” He moaned, giving you a look that could be best described as horny surprise. You almost giggled at his shock; it was like the man had never gotten a blowjob before. You didn’t give him any time to recover before you took the tip of him in your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue across his ridge and glans. The hand he placed softly on your head was trembling and his ears were burning bright red and… This cannot be his first blowjob, right? No way… You mentally shook the ridiculous thought from your head.

When you slid your lips down to take more of him into your mouth his hips bucked, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “Scheiße, es tut mir Leid… Bitte…Bitte hör nicht auf… d-don’t stop… please…” He was practically whimpering as you sucked back up his length, his fingers curling in your hair to grab a fistful. Eagerly, you began to bob your head over his lap, sucking and licking him up. His whole body was shaking, his head tossed back as he attempted to watch you through half-lidded eyes, his mouth parted as he panted. “Ah… your tongue… Du fühlst dich so gut… so gut…”

You were almost a little disappointed with how quickly his orgasm came, his hips slamming up suddenly as his grip on your hair became pleasantly painful. You were having so much fun… “Es tut mir L-leid… bitte… es tut…I’m so sorry!” He cried out as he pumped his cock into your mouth, shooting his load into the back of your throat. Caught by surprise, it made you cough, but you didn’t mind how rough he’d become with you despite him making you gag–you liked it that way. When he finished coming his whole body relaxed as a sigh left his lips. You tenderly sucked and licked his cock, eliciting little whimpers and twitches from him while he caught his breath.

When he was finished riding the high of his orgasm, you wiped the drool and any cum you missed off your chin. The way he was looking at you–like you were the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen–made you practically buzz with happiness. “I’m so sorry…” He said in a horrified whisper. “I should not have… you just felt so good… the way I grabbed you… Please forgive me…”

“It was fine, Edward, really,” you stifled a laugh, smiling at him. “I enjoyed it, actually. There’s something quite erotic about getting fucked in the face like that, don’t you think?”

Oh, the man’s poor blood cells were going to get whiplash. You were pretty sure all the blood from his dick just rushed to his face as he turned cherry red. “I…quite enjoyed it…” he murmured, embarrassed. “I… can I do something… for you?”

“Yes,” you said, carefully zipping his trousers back up and planting one final kiss on his knee as you looked up at him. “Go take a nap.”

“I… a nap?”

“Yes. The bruises under your eyes are starting to become permanent. I want you to go get some rest,” you insisted, standing up. Honestly, he looked even more tired now that you’d drained him of what was a pretty substantial load of cum.

“I supposed I have been neglecting my rest,” he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair to push back the loose strands that kept falling. “I am quite tired… but are you sure? I’d like to… erm, pay back the favor.”

You leaned in close to him, a grin on your face. “Doctor?”

“J-ja?”

“Go rest!”

You moved away and pointed to the door out of the lab. He got up, fixing his belt and taking a hesitant step towards the door. You raised your eyebrows and thrust your chin in the direction of the door, making your decision clear. His lips quirked up from how forceful you were being with him and he dutifully went to the door, opening it and… he paused, looking back. “Perhaps… you should join me? Make sure I rest?”

Hm, not a bad idea. “Perhaps I should…”

“If you don’t… I do have a desk in my room, you know…” He trailed off, the implications clear.

“Fine,” you laughed, walking up and pushing him out the door. “But you really are getting in that bed to sleep!”

“I can think of some much better t-things we could do in my bed, but if you insist…”

“I do, in fact, insist.”

He hesitated, biting his lip, before tentatively reaching out to take your hand and lead you to his bedroom. He looked so… nervous. It was positively adorable. He opened the door for you and you saw his room for the first time. It was rather plain: a bed, desk, chair and piles of organized books and rolled up blueprints. Almost awkwardly, he sat you down on his bed and began undressing himself. A little mesmerized by the skin he was unveiling to you, you sat there staring. Your eyes took in the wide muscular shoulders, the narrow waist, the dark hair that spread across his chest and the smaller line of hair that led into his boxers… You were a little disappointed when he left those on, but assured yourself it was probably in the best interests of his sleep that he did. “Can I help you undress?” He interrupted your musings with an almost pleading whisper.

“Yes.” It was your turn to blush a bit as you stood up and let him pull your shirt gently over your head. He placed it to the side and knelt down in front of you, admiring every inch of skin on the way. He was already short of breath again as he tentatively unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans. “We’re here to sleep,” you warned him, “so don’t get any ideas.”

“Of course,” he murmured, sliding your pants down your legs slowly, a small groan escaping him at the sight of your panties. You didn’t know a guy could look so desperately at plain white cotton underwear, but here he was, tenting his boxers and licking his lips. He looked up at you, his eyes bright with need. “Can I just kiss you once? I promise we’ll sleep, I just…”

“Yes, please,” you whispered, trying to keep the lust out of your tone so he wouldn’t realize how ready you were to make his sleep deprivation worse. He let you step out of the jeans before placing his hands on your hips and leaning forward, pressing his lips sensually against the skin of your inner thigh, emitting a low moan and sighing when he eventually pulled away.

“I’ve wanted you in my bed for a while now,” he confessed, standing up. “I just wasn’t sure that you would want me the same way I wanted you.”

“How did you want me?” You were trembling, breathless. He was caressing your face now, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You could easily get lost in the sensation of his fingertips on your skin. It was heady, overwhelming.

“Everywhere, all the time. I miss you when you aren’t working in the lab with me. I think about you when I’m falling asleep, wondering what you would feel like in my arms…” His breath was brushing against your lips as he leaned in, kissing you softly.

“That’s how I’ve been wanting you,” you whispered between kisses, your fingers tracing up his chest and– “Wait! No! I’m supposed to be making you sleep.” You glared at him for distracting you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, a bit huskily. He pulled back the blanket and obediently got into bed, patting the space next to him while looking like an eager kid. You crawled in next to him, still sitting up.

“I shouldn’t sleep with my bra on. It’s not good for–”

“Please let me take it off,” he interrupted, stopping your hands from reaching back behind you as he bolted upright. He swallowed. “I’ll behave. I promise. I’ll be very good…please let me…”

“This seems like dangerous waters for your prospects of sleep…”

“No, I’ll control myself. I can control myself. I swear,” he begged, his eyes wide and his eyebrows lifting up in the middle as he gave you the most desperate face. Well how could you say no to that?

“Okay…If you promise to be good and go to sleep afterwards.”

He nodded quickly, reaching behind you and taking a moment to figure out the clasp. When it was loose you let him slide the straps down your shoulders, the cups of the bra lowering and revealing your breasts to him. His hand twitched towards them as he stared, but he kept his promise, taking a deep breath and looking up at the ceiling for a moment before removing the garment the rest of the way and tossing it to join the rest of your clothes. It was almost too entertaining how much he was marveling at the whole experience. Certainly at his age he must have taken a girl's bra off before, but here he was acting like he’d never done it…Jeez. “Thank you,” he whispered, pulling you against him as he laid down.

You nuzzled into his chest and realized you could hear and feel his heartbeat – it was racing. “I’m worried my being here is going to make it harder for you to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep,” he said firmly, before softening. “Please stay…”

You stroked your fingers over his chest, avoiding his nipples so as to not excite him. Instead you ran your fingers through the patch of chest hair and over his skin, hoping to relax him with your soft touch. You guessed about thirty minutes of caressing him passed, your arm aching though you refused to stop, until his breathing and heart rate fully settled. Not too much longer you heard light snores and was able to rest your arm across him and close your own eyes…

—

It had been three days since that fateful evening you’d sat on his lap and did, well, other things with him. Since then he’d asked you to his bed every night to hold you in his arms, intertwined his fingers with yours when walking together, and instigated a few shy kisses, but that was it. It was like he was too afraid or unsure how to ask for more. You didn’t want to push sex if this was what he wanted, but… the way he’d acted the first time made you sure he was just as lusty as you. You frowned at him from your desk, ignoring your own project, to watch him bent over the piece of his teleporter. He hummed in satisfaction as he cleaned some oil off it and adjusted the tightness of a screw. He was doing a lot better now that he’d gotten rest - he’d figured out the problem and was now fine tuning it.

This was a man who was well into his thirties and yet he was acting like a highschool sweetheart from a 50s movie, his adoration pure and almost too chaste, too respectful. The only time you’d gotten lustful passion from him was when he couldn’t help himself any longer with your lips around his cock. A lightbulb going off in your head, you stood up quickly enough your office chair went rolling back a few feet, drawing his attention. He frowned at you. “Are you alright?”

Ignoring his question you stomped over to him, pulling his chair back, but unlike last time you didn’t waste any time pushing between his legs and grabbing his belt. He was frozen in shock for long enough for you to get his trousers opened and pull them down. By the time he registered what was happening your tongue was on his cock. “Fick,” he whispered, “ahh…but I–” You cut him off by reaching a finger up and pressing it to his lips to shush him, his mustache tickling your fingertip. When you drew your hand back he remained quiet.

You licked and kissed him until he was hard (which didn’t take long), and his hand came to rest on your head, stroking your hair. “You’re so good at this… too gut,” he murmured, gasping when you took him into your mouth. You kept it sensual until his cock was throbbing and twitching in your mouth, then you picked up the pace. He rewarded you with the most delicious sounds, whiny and desperate. “Ohhh… mein Gott,” he moaned, his hand fisting your hair as if clinging to you for dear life. His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as he watched his cock disappear and reappear from your mouth, transfixed. “Bitte…ja…ohhh, ja…lutsche meinen Schwanz. Es fühlt sich so gut an…”

You adored how he seemed to forget you didn’t speak a lick of German whenever you flustered him this way, but you assumed the jist of it was encouragement to keep going. His hands were practically shaking with the willpower it was taking him not to push you down onto him, but your goal to see him lose control. Bracing yourself you pushed down, forcing him into your throat. He cried out in pleasure, the tightness of your throat squeezing him as you gagged around his girth.

That was it for him, he was lost in the pleasure, yanking your hair up by your hair to force you down again, blabbering more incoherent German in a breathy voice. “Bitte verzeihen Sie mir... Ich kann mich nicht beherrschen! Du gibst mir ein so gutes Gefühl…” He whined. Sure, Edward, whatever that meant.

The roughness with which he began to fuck your throat had you soaked between your legs and you moaned between gags as he hit the back of your throat, the vibration only encouraging his thrusting. His hips were lifting out of the chair now as he pounded into you wildly, having to remove the hand from your cheek to grip the chair’s armrest to keep it from rolling out from under him in his frenzy. “Bitte... ich bin so nah... bitte vergib mir... ich werde…so close!”

You were glad he added those last two words in English so you had a warning before your mouth filled with cum. You swallowed hastily so it didn’t make you cough this time, sucking every last drop out of him as he fell back into the chair, twitching from the overstimulation. “Bitte hör auf! Nein, hör nicht auf..ahhh…” You had a bit of fun watching him pant, his hand gripping and letting go of your hair a few times, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to stop or keep going. When his whine turned into a pathetic keen you finally showed him mercy, slowing down and softening your sucking. He was gasping when you finally sat back on your heels.

After taking a moment to compose himself, h surprised you by lunging forward, crushing your lips and accidentally pushing you backwards. “Ah, Scheiße…” he cursed, quickly getting his hand in between your head and the hardwood floor. Your breath left you in huff when your back hit the ground, but you quickly drew a breath in and clutched his collar, yanking him back to your lips. You wanted him to ravage you, lose his carefully maintained control and absolutely consume you. You couldn’t let him lose his steam over a potential head injury.

Thankfully, you pulling him in seemed to keep him in the moment and he was back to covering you with hungry kisses, his tongue slipping between your lips and exploring the taste of him left on your tongue. His hands pushed under your shirt, his fingernails scraping your skin as he groped flesh on the way to your breasts. He squeezed them almost too hard, making you cry out in delicious pain as his kisses roamed across your cheek to your neck. He bit down just under your ear and you grabbed his hair, keeping his head pinned there so he would keep going as you moaned. “Es tut mir Leid. Ich will dich so sehr.”

His hands left your breasts to shift to a lower goal, his fingers fumbling to undo the jeans since he couldn’t see what he was doing. Growling in frustration, he pulled away from your neck. “Ich brauche dich nackt, jetzt!” His voice was so hoarse… You looked at him in confusion as he seemed to stare at you expectantly. “Ah… naked,” he croaked out, realizing his mistake. You nodded eagerly, pulling your dishevelled shirt over your head while he slipped your pants and panties off you and tossed them haphazardly out of his way. He descended upon you as you struggled with your bra, shoving it up and out of his way as he brought his lips to your nipple to suck and bite, his thumb rolling and rubbing the other nipple in mimicking movements to his mouth. You yanked the bra the rest of the way over your head, throwing it off to the side so you could run your fingers through his hair while he played with your breasts.

Your moans mixed in the air with his lusty groans. When his hand finally trailed down between your legs you gasped. “Yes… Oh, please,” you pleaded. You wanted to feel his fingers against you, inside you now! But he was slow, feeling his way around and exploring your anatomy. God, why was he taking his sweet time? Didn’t he know how badly you needed him? You thrust your hips up, a silent demand for him to go faster. He seemed to understand because he pulled away from your breasts to look in your eyes. “Ich brauche deine Geduld, meine Liebe… ah, patience. I’ve never done this before…”

Oh, god. Suddenly everything made sense… the hesitation, the shyness, the shock… this man was a fucking virgin. Your eyes were wide as you whispered: “Never?” He shook his head, his cheeks burning. “Nothing?” He looked ashamed as he spoke: “Nothing with… another person.”

“Oh… well…you’re doing great,” you whispered, swallowing down your own embarrassment for how you’d attacked him the first time. Before things got too awkward you pressed your lips to him to keep the heat between you going, forcing yourself to give him time to slip his hands through your wet folds to acquaint himself with your cunt. He was attentive, listening for your moans, as he figured out how to rub your clit to make you squirm with pleasure. “Yes, yes and… I need you inside me…” You whined, trying to direct him while he essentially edged you.

He kissed down your body to get a better look at what he was working with, carefully slipping his middle finger into you while trying to keep the movement of his thumb on your clit. You nodded, crying out. “Yes! More…ohhhh.”

He slowly added his ring finger, looking down at what he was doing with pure awe on his face. “This is so hot…” he whispered, “You’re so hot.”

Your back arched, pressing his fingers into you as he hit the spot you liked. “There!”

Understanding, he moved his fingers in and out, aiming for that spot. He brought his mouth down to use his tongue instead of his thumb, groaning into your pussy. “Du schmeckst–You taste amazing.”

“Ahh… Edward!” You screamed out his name as he sucked on your clit hard while thrusting his fingers in harder, sending you over the edge. You clenched around his fingers, your hips lifting up and bucking into his face, but he was relentless–continuing to finger fuck you and eat you out until a second orgasm quickly rushed after the first one. “Edward,” you gasped after the second wave shook you, “Please… too much… it’s too… much…”

You panted, attempting to catch your breath as he slowed down reluctantly. He leaned back over you to plant soft kisses all over your face until your breathing calmed and he could kiss your lips without suffocating you. You returned his kiss hungrily, the taste of both of you mixing in your mouths. You could feel his cock was hard again, pressing against your leg, and you reached down to stroke him, angling him to your entrance. He froze. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, biting your lip hopefully.

“Ah…but, a rubber…” He looked around the room with a frown.

“Right…Well, I’m on… you know… I take hormones…” you mumbled, embarrassed, but appreciating his concern.

“Oh.” Was he going to faint from how much blood kept rushing between his heads? Once again his cheeks turned beet red. “That’s… yes, that works.”

“Edward, please…” you whined, needy. “Please fuck me… I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Not as long as I’ve wanted you,” he breathed, almost inaudibly quiet. You would have argued the point had he not started sliding into you, stretching you around him as his eyes squeezed shut and his head fell back. “Fick… you feel so good… so tight…”

God, he was big. Almost too big. He filled you plus some and you were a bit dazed by the time he stopped pressing forward. His thumb was tracing over your hip bones while his fingers dug into your flesh.

“Am I… hurting you?” He asked, every word dripped with worry.

“Yes, but… it’s a good hurt. Don’t worry. Don’t stop,” you ordered, shifting your hips to press him further into you. He moaned, his cock twitching inside you. “Please start moving… please fuck me…”

He needed no more encouragement than that to start slowly pushing in and out of you, gasping and letting out little ohs and ahs as the sensation made his eyes roll back. “I didn’t know it would be… it’s so different. You feel so good…”

You whimpered as his slow pace drove you crazy. This time, when you thrust up to gain more friction it was like you’d broken him. He grunted, losing all control over his hips and beginning to thrust into you almost violently, using his grip on your hips to force himself in you as deep as he could go. You cried out and it was if he remembered your lips existed from the noise that escaped them–he fell down on top of you like he was a magnet pulled to your opposite force to kiss you while rutting into you. Just as suddenly as he started he stopped, gritting his teeth. “Edward?”

“I… it’s too good,” he forced out, trying to breathe and control himself.

Ah, he was already close to orgasming. Trying to hide a smile, you swallowed down a giggle. “It’s okay… just enjoy me.”

“I… may not last much longer…” He confessed, flustered.

You grabbed his hips and pushed him against you. “Edward, just fuck me now!”

He hesitated for a moment longer before the fiery lust returned to his eyes and he returned to kissing you, slamming his hips into your desperately. You clung to him, your fingernails digging into his back as he rutted mindlessly into you with his cock while his tongue invaded every centimeter of your mouth. He was so ardent, whispering constant praise about how good you felt, how beautiful you were, that he had you on the edge pretty quickly despite his concerns. You moaned against his mouth as your pleasure built up inside you, threatening to shake your body.

He moaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as your walls clenched around him. “Fick…so tight… gut…” A little cry escaped his lips and you felt him fill you with hot cum as you came around him. He thrust a couple more times, shuddering as his second orgasm of the day ebbed. “Ich liebe dich..I love you…”

Emotion choked you and you stroked his face adoringly for a second before you could respond. “Edward, I… I love you too. God, I love you so much,” you breathed, joining your lips together for a kiss. You didn’t miss his small sigh of relief at your words. Just too fucking adorable.

—

That was over a month ago and now? Jesus, you barely got any sleep. The man was relentless; if he wasn’t working, he was fucking you. You didn’t know how he managed it. And the worst part? The man had driven you wild so many times in bed, had you screaming his name to the heavens nightly, that now the bastard was cocky. Was his newfound confidence in his sexual prowess sexy as all get out? Hell yes, and that was the damn problem. He knew how to make you wet and begging for him with a single word or a gesture. It was fucking embarrassing. Who had taken who’s virginity, dammit?

You walked into the lab and placed the second mug of coffee you were carrying on his desk, kissing the top of his head and running your hand across his shoulders as you walked to your own desk and set your coffee down. He shifted away from his desk, holding his fresh mug coffee as he turned the chair towards you, knees relaxed and spread out. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. You raised an eyebrow back at him.

“Come here,” he said with a devious smirk, patting his upper thigh with one hand. You were happily between his legs, pulling his trousers down and taking him into your mouth in seconds while he sipped his coffee happily.

[pr1ncesspopstar]

Peasant of Games - FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 16: Third-Rate

Ao3

-

Halditar was perhaps the second worst type of person to introduce to the gilded halls of the Golden Saucer.

When first introduced to Godbert Manderville’s oasis in the sands of Thanalan, she thought she would hate it. It was all together too bright, and loud, and populated by adventurers and the common folk alike. Nothing about when she had first begun as a lacking gladiator gave the impression she would enjoy herself in its vaulted halls. And though a few of the prizes had been tempting (how Fenrir ended up in the Golden Saucer and tamed by the staff was a story she was dying to learn) none enough to convince to spend hours in the windowless building, listening to the same music over and over again. It sounded like a kind of torture, if she wanted to be rude about it.

Of course, Halditar underestimated something about herself she only learned when after a lot of pressing, her friends finally convinced her to join them for a night out to its gilded halls. She wasn’t a person prone to sunk-cost fallacy, simply not having enough patience to endure the eventuality that the odds would fall in her favor. In her mind, she would get bored of the games after an hour and go drink herself silly at the bar, maybe pick up the linkshells of a fellow or two. There would be little to really hold her attention.

But Halditar loved games of skill, and when she fell in love with something, she fell in love hard. Learning that night, to her shock, the Golden Saucer had more than enough to satiate that hunger for competition and want to improve.

It started with a chance game of mahjong with Darren. It was complicated, and long, and made her head spin with a surprising amount of math. There was nothing like it, and she adored it. She was terrible at it, ‘the worst player he has ever seen’ in his own words, but that didn’t change the fact that after the first try, her appetite for more grew. So she played, and played, and became something of a regular. And she was still God's awful, she could strategize on a board to save her life, but what she lacked in execution was more than made up for with the face she could at least think through and understand the wild strategies of her foe and friends alike.

From there, it was a landslide to give deeper into the Saucer, and learn what she had been missing.

There were the little events of course. Within a few weeks of becoming a regular she started to master their flow, even finding herself fond of the elements of chance thrown in, testing her reflexes and ability to identify the smallest sign action in the blink of an eye. Fashion Report was fun to theorize with. And chocobo racing had been months of time and gMGP down the drain, to end up with a glorious bird considered to be in the top perfect, cream of the crop she loved to blitz through the tracks on.

Of course it wouldn’t have been long before she found the final main attraction that not only held the Saucer, but all of Eorzea in a vice grip. Triple Triad. A game with many styles of play and simple rules. Easy to learn, hard to master. And all too quickly the want to be the master or masters came to her, enchanted by the shiny cards and strategies presented to her.

She figured it best to start with forming her collection. She did have the occasional lucky card and what she had been gifted when she first began to learn the game of course. And she knew many across Eorzea were happy to trade cards with players that won in bouts. However with so few cards to her name, she knew the wisest decision would be to fill her deck.

And lo and behold, the Gold Saucer sold card packs for MGP. Of which she had plenty from her previous endeavors. The plan was obvious, hunt for those rumored exclusive cards, and along the way she should certainly get enough to make a proper deck.

And it was here, Halditar underestimated just how painfully, stupidly stubborn she could be when she really, really wanted something.

She was practically splayed over her table in disappointment, surrounded by various remains of the foiled paper packets cards were sold in. A tower of duplicates taunted her from the side. In her hand was the final packet, bought with the last of her MGP. It was so painfully unfunny how bad her luck had been these final pulls she could laugh. More than once she pulled cards rarer than her target, and while they sold for a pretty gil it would not be enough to fuel her venture any longer. Months of earnings, down the drain.

Holding her breath and thinking ‘please’ like a mantra, she snapped the wax seal off the packaging, and pulled out her cards. Organizing them so as she thumbed through, the rarest would be at the back. A duplicate, dupe, dupe again… So few cards left…

A glimmer of gold peaked out from behind the second to last. Her fingers were stiff with anticipation. She prayed to whoever would listen, and revealed her final chance.

“Oh, fuck yes!”

She jumped from her seat and cheered, celebrating as she did only after some of her most fierce battles. She didn’t care that the packet remnants went flying, or her tower of extras spilled all over the floor from the force of her jump. Halditar had her prize in hands, and her deck may have been cobbled together from random pieces, but it wouldn’t be long before she’d have a collection of cards and a name recognized on the Triple Triad boards.

[thegospelofstjohn]

"The Judge." From the Gospel of Saint John, 12: 44-50.

Our suspicions about the strategies and objectives of Jesus previously hidden in the angel math gain creedence as we conclude the section aboutJewish beliefs.

My suspicion about Jesus is He was sent to teach us how to be free for specific purposes. Oppressive societies and the persons that run them wreck things. Their detachment from the suffering of others causes them to be positively ruinous from stem to stern.

This is a lesson we must stop learning and end any kind of oppression or tyranny or disregard for human rights the moment they appear. Not only is this wise and appropriate, but the UN Charter mandates it at every level of society, requiring prompt investigation and resolution of any kind of illegal cruelty:

Prevention and punishment of crimes against humanity … Mindful that throughout history millions of children, women and men have been victims of crimes that deeply shock the conscience of humanity,

Recognizing that crimes against humanity threaten the peace, security and wellbeing of the world, Recalling the principles of international law embodied in the Charter of the United Nations,

Recalling also that the prohibition of crimes against humanity is a peremptory norm of general international law (jus cogens), Affirming that crimes against humanity, which are among the most serious crimes of concern to the international community as a whole, must be prevented in conformity with international law,

Determined to put an end to impunity for the perpetrators of these crimes and thus to contribute to the prevention of such crimes, Considering the definition of crimes against humanity set forth in article 7 of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, Recalling that it is the duty of every State to exercise its criminal jurisdiction with respect to crimes against humanity,

Considering the rights of victims, witnesses and others in relation to crimes against humanity, as well as the right of alleged offenders to fair treatment,

Considering also that, because crimes against humanity must not go unpunished, the effective prosecution of such crimes must be ensured by taking measures at the national level and by enhancing international cooperation, including with respect to extradition and mutual legal assistance...

So this bullshit about allowing Donald Trump and Jerry Falwell to become the President and Vice President after they participated in numerous criminal acts forbidden at the local, federal and international levels is outrageous.

Jesus cries out, " I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." Let us see If His words and my suspicions about their final purposes are indeed acceptable to us and are correct and then, let us decide if we are on the right track as we plan to put those two perverts back in charge of our lives.

The section concludes with Jesus crying out, which has a Number of 1436, ידלו, yadlu, "were it not for Him..." Rome would not have fallen, and without Him we would not have this amazing chance to start our lives over on a planet that does not show respect to tyrants or suffer fools to oppress the intelligent...

Finally Jesus says real belief is found in the actions of persons who excercise sound judgement, carry out the Hillels, and promote a societal process that results in Shabbat, freedom from suffering for all beings:

44 Then Jesus cried out, “Whoever believes in me does not believe in me only, but in the one who sent me. 45 The one who looks at me is seeing the one who sent me. 46 I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.

47 “If anyone hears my words but does not keep them, I do not judge that person. For I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world. 

48 There is a judge for the one who rejects me and does not accept my words; the very words I have spoken will condemn them at the last day. 

49 For I did not speak on my own, but the Father who sent me commanded me to say all that I have spoken. 50 I know that his command leads to eternal life. So whatever I say is just what the Father has told me to say.”

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 44-45: The one who looks, sees. The Number is 10936, קטגג‎ kategeg‎ ‎‎"it's all categorized."

The Torah and the Gospels CLEARLY say how God expects us to treat each other and it's not too shabby.

46-47: Who believes shall not live in darkness. I have run out of ways to say I feel like a fool. I write and speak exhaustively from my heart how we can employ the wisdom contained in the Gospels, the Torah, and the angel math in order to make this world a better place, and what did you people do? You betrayed me and the entire planet on election day two months ago. I simply do not believe it.

How the FUCK am I or the priests and seminarians of this Church to inform people about the utter meaning of these scriptures, held sacred to us for thousands of years after millions of people decide they are worthless in an instant?

One of us is wrong. It is me or is it Donald Trump? Choose again, please.

The Number is 11348, יאג‎דח‎, ye'ag‎dch‎m "YES! Push or the lowly, the poor will be crushed."

v. 48: There is a judge for the one who rejects Me. The Number is 10938, קטח‎, kitch, "lay the bait and then snare."

Persons who abuse the lowly or the poor or who do illegal things must not escape. This is what Jewish people believe and apparently the law agrees.

v. 49-50: Whatever I say, the Torah has told me to say. The Number is 12935, יבט‎גה‎ ‎, Yabtega, "And he will calm down."

Recall being calm means the world will become rational and systematic in its approach to peace, propriety, and prosperity. But until then...the Darkness is closing in once again. To allow its return is not holy and it must be fought.

Joe Biden I know for a fact you have all the evidence you need to free this planet from the scourge of Donald Trump and those FUCKUPS in the Republican Party, especially after October 7, which they made possible! You are expected to use it and protect your nation and its people just as you promised. This is what we need if we are to believe.

Thus concludes the chapter.

[radiantsouth]

modern pevensie headcanons

others have already said that peter is always the driver, which is never a point of contention. but whoever gets the aux is another story altogether. lucy prefers pop, susan likes indie, and edmund listens to soundtracks. peter has no idea what they're talking about

edmund is the type to like things ironically then get in too deep. the number of obscure facts stored in his brain never fails to astound the others

edmund was pushed to run for student government but didnt like the extra work. even so, whenever there was some dialogue needed between the student body and the student government, he would represent the other students, especially if there was some injustice on their part

susan is an excellent swimmer, to the point that her coach suggested she compete professionally. she settled for representing the school in swim meets, where peter, edmund, and lucy are avid supporters. they would make the most obnoxious glittery banners and scream their lungs out cheering for her

peter doesn't get the appeal of social media, but he does have a private tiktok where lucy sends him funny videos. susan only has instagram and she has highlights for book and show reviews, grwms, and study with mes. edmund goes on reddit and regularly argues with people about videogame lore

peter and susan are head boy and head girl when the time comes. edmund revitalises the chess club, and it suddenly becomes a popular hobby among the kids in his year. lucy joins a local environmentalist organisation and participates in a lot of tree-planting and donation drives

susan’s classmates would have crushes on peter, either from seeing him on her instagram or seeing him when he picks her up from school. they would ask her to introduce him to them, and susan just smiles, knowing that peter is set on a boy named caspian from the neighboring school

meanwhile, peter's classmates that fancied susan would get shot down pretty quickly. one would joke about asking her out for a date, but peter's glare was enough to shut them up. one of them that set his sights on edmund was the subject of particular vitriol

edmund unwittingly led people on. he was a great conversationalist, which was often mistaken as flirting. and when he did flirt, no one could tell

lucy and peter are painfully oblivious when someone is flirting with them. susan and edmund take delight in informing them after the fact and seeing their reactions go from shock, to denial, to “well how do i tell them i only like them as a friend?”

lucy is the stereotypical popular nice girl. of course some jealousy was inevitable, but it was pretty difficult to fault lucy pevensie since she was just so damn nice

susan is THE mom friend. just broke up with someone? she has tissues in her bag. on your period? tampons and pads in her bag. hungry? there's a snack bar somewhere in there

peter is a total jock who loves sports and gets wildly competitive in PE. he would always be first pick for teams, and got incredibly serious about strategy be it dodgeball or capture the flag

as the youngest, lucy gets a lot of hand-me-downs, and she started learning how to sew so she could better wear her siblings’ clothes to her style

none of them particularly like school, but susan is the most inclined to try her best at tests and quizzes. edmund only really cares about english and history, although he is the best among the four at math. lucy particularly likes biology and chemistry, and just learning in general. peter would say he didn't study but still ace the exams, which aggravates his friends to no end

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Chris Papst

Published: Feb 9, 2023

BALTIMORE (WBFF) — Baltimore is facing a devastating reality as the latest round of state test scores are released.

WBFF analyzed the results and found a shocking number of Baltimore City schools where not a single student is doing math at grade level.

“We're not living up to our potential,” said Jovani Patterson, a Baltimore resident who made headlines in Jan. 2022, when he filed a lawsuit against Baltimore City Schools. The suit claims the district is failing to educate students and, in the process, misusing taxpayer funds.

“We, the taxpayer, are funding our own demise,” Patterson said at the time.

Patterson was born in Baltimore. He's seen the failures firsthand, but when WBFF showed him the latest test results for the city, he was momentarily rendered speechless.

“My immediate reaction is, take your kids out of these schools,” said Patterson.

The Maryland State Department of Education recently released the 2022 state test results known as MCAP, Maryland Comprehensive Assessment Program.

Baltimore City’s math scores were the lowest in the state. Just 7% of third through eighth graders tested proficient in math, which means 93% could not do math at grade level.

But that’s not all. WBFF combed through the scores at all 150 City Schools where the state math test was given. In 23 Baltimore City schools, there were zero students who tested proficient in math.

It just sounds like these schools, now, have turned into essentially babysitters with no accountability,” said Patterson. “This is the future of our city. We’ve got to change this.”

Among the list of 23 schools, there are 10 high schools, eight elementary schools, three middle/high schools and two elementary/middle schools.

Exactly 2,000 students, in total, took the state math test at these schools. Not one could do math at grade level.

“These kids can't do math. You're not preparing them to buy groceries. You're not preparing them to do accounting, to count their own money. You're not preparing them to read contracts and negotiate salaries,” said Patterson.

Maryland Gov. Wes Moore delivered his first State of the State address last week.

“We made the largest investment in public education by any governor in our state’s history,” Moore said during his speech, making his feelings about public education clear. It’s one of his top priorities.

“We can no longer separate our vision for economic prosperity from the duty to make Maryland’s public schools the best in the nation,” Moore said.

After the State of the State address, WBFF reached out to Moore’s office, asking to speak with him about his plan to improve education. Before becoming governor, Moore lived in Baltimore. WBFF wanted to ask him how he plans to help city students, especially those who attend the 23 schools.

Moore’s office did not respond, but City Schools did send WBFF a statement with steps it’s taking to improve math scores, including professional development for teachers, summer learning and an extended learning period at the end of the day.

The statement said, in part, “We're confident these instructional strategies will help us regain the momentum and progress we experienced before the pandemic.”

Zero percent. What are you preparing these kids for?” said Patterson. “Are we expecting these kids to kill off themselves? I mean, we see the number of teen shootings happening just this year. What jobs are we preparing these kids for? That's the future.”

WBFF found three additional schools where zero students tested proficient in math, which we did not include in the list of 23. One of those schools is for incarcerated youth, and the other two are for students with disabilities. It’s also important to note that another 20 Baltimore City Schools had just one or two students test proficient in math.

==

This level of incapability doesn't suddenly materialize over a 2 year pandemic. It requires a steady program of neglect, incompetence and poor pedagogy. It would be interesting to compare these outcomes to reading and writing proficiency; students who can't read or write can't do math.

[dearemilia]

Have u done a Reze! Reader with baji and mikey? :3 where her power is like reze's <33

WITH A REZE! GN! READER

Baji Keisuke & Sano 'Mikey' Manjiro

NOTE: Aaa!! I am so glad you requested me this! Reze is one of my favorite characters, I have the same hate-love relationship with her as Makima. I hope you have a good day/night! <3

TAGS/NOTES: GN! Reader, mentions of violence, profanity, reader is a devil, Valhalla arc spoilers, Chainsaw Man manga spoilers!!, fluff, slight angst. There will be a few changes. I apologize if the characters are OOC. Stay safe and healthy everyone! <3

•─────────────────•

BAJI KEISUKE

➩ Baji fell in love with you when you showed him love and kindness.

➩ He’s whipped for you and everyone knows that, his mom knows, your boss knows, you know.

➩ He loves how caring you are and how you don’t care whether he’s a delinquent or not.

➩ Baji hates your boss, he’ll probably even threaten the old man to send you your raise since you barely get paid </3

➩ You have to tutor him and teach him a lot of things, like chemistry, math, physics since he can’t do that.

➩ You always send him and his mom food from your Cafe and also his cats.

➩ He named one of them after you <3

➩ Now, onto you being a devil.

➩ You know you will be killed one day, any day by now. And you have to tell Baji about this.

➩ Baji has heard of devils for sure from the news, his friends, school, and you. So basically everywhere.

➩ You’re shocked to know that he does have a slight fear of devils but that what makes it more exciting, so he says.

➩ You couldn’t tell him not after hearing about him leaving Toman to save Kazutora and his other friends.

➩ So when you heard about a fight between Valhalla and Toman.

➩ You began to get anxious, having a feeling something bad will happen to your boyfriend.

➩ So being the best significant other you are. You turned to your devil form and bombed one of the buildings close to the fight.

➩ After that happened, you didn’t see Baji for 4 days which saddened you since you missed him dearly.

➩ But then he came rushing to your place, and he told you all about the building close to the fight blowing up and everyone freaking out “Fucking hell, it was scary as shit...I have to admit” He scratched his cheek. 

➩ Well, Valhalla and Toman are still going to continue to fight but you’ll make sure to protect your boyfriend.

➩ Although, you still do feel guilty for not telling him about how you are the one who blew up the building.

SANO ‘MIKEY’ MANJIRO

➩ Mikey goes to your Cafe daily and is always keeping an eye on your boss.

➩ Mikey does not trust him at all.

➩ He absolutely loves it when you feed him food. He’s so cute when he’s sitting on your lap while you play with his hair <3

➩ He still has to pay tho-

➩ You sometimes tutor him because he’s still a student and he shouldn’t be missing out his classes which you and Emma scolded him for.

➩ As for you being a devil, you told him when you knew he was ready to know.

➩ Of course, Mikey was shocked to hear the news of you being a devil and not going to lie, he was slightly afraid of you.

➩ He’s heard of devils from his grandpa before and knew they were bad news.

➩ But knowing you for so long, he knows your different.

➩ So he pushed his negative thoughts away and just cuddled with you, telling you how he still loves you despite you being a devil.

➩ After that, Mikey begs you to show him how your power works.

➩ And he fell in love with you again once he sees how you fight. Your strength, intelligence, and strategy are all amazing.

➩ He sometimes suggest you on blowing up a building for fun but then realizes that you could die from a devil hunter because of that.

➩ He has asked you to become a Toman member or at least an informant before but you declined, stating how its tiring for you and you’d rather live a normal life with him.

➩ Look at that, you made his heart skip a beat.

[devilish-miasma]

I somewhat crave for more dadte content. Might do a hc where Dante finding out he had a son from his past relationship with his s/o back at dmc1? The kid not as near old as Nero. Maybe in his teen age. Will his kid trying to beat him up like his nephew? Will he reunite with his s/o and son? I'll leave that to you. Family fluff plss tysm you're amazing!!✨

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dante Having a Son He Didn't Know About

Dante was, what, twenty-eight in the first game? So, if I’m doing my math correctly (please fact check me on this I cannot math), his son would be around fourteen or fifteen.

The relationship with his s/o was probably short lived. Dante’s son was born without his knowledge, and his s/o raised him alone. His son met Dante after his other parent died; demon attack. Dying, they told their son to find Devil May Cry, and find Dante. He’s his father.

It was scary, traveling to Devil May Cry alone with only the clothes on his back. He didn’t sleep, afraid of the sound of howling demons behind him. It took him days to reach Devil May Cry.

He felt instantly safe once he found the shop. He almost cried, seeing Dante, yet remained strong, knowing his parent wanted him to stay strong. But he knew this man was his father; they looked far too alike. They were the only ones there with hair white as snow and blue eyes.

The absolute shock on Dante’s face when he sees this kid stumble into the shop. You see, demons can sense kinship, as exhibited by Dante in the fourth game when he met Nero. So obviously, when he meets his kid, he would sense a stronger kinship with him then he did with Nero.

The meeting, unfortunately, abruptly ends when his son collapses. He faints right then and there in the middle of Devil May Cry.

He wakes up on the couch with a blanket over him. His head is pounding, he feels weak. Groaning, he turns his head and sees Dante—his father, sitting in a chair next to him reading a magazine.

Dante’s not a complete idiot. He knows this kid is weak, exhausted. So after getting some food into him, (probably pizza, let's be honest) he gets the full story.

Dante learns about the kid’s other parent, remembering their relationship. He feels incredibly guilty, leaving them alone, unprotected. If they had him none of this would have happened. Dante listens to his entire story, a sick, twisted feeling in the pit of his stomach tells him he knows who did this.

After learning about his son’s—jeez, it was going to take some time getting used to that— past, Dante knows what he needs to do. He promises to protect him, to raise him as best as he can, and to teach him how to control his abilities. (I think that, if Dante actually had a child, he would take full responsibility. We joke about him being an idiot/irresponsible/stupid or whatever, but he would use his brain here. He’d know what he needs to do if he was actually in this type of situation. Is this a hot take?)

It takes Dante’s son a while to warm up and get used to him. Which is normal; after being raised as a human and under the impression that his father was dead, now being told who his father is and what his father is, and that he’s a quarter demon, it would take some time.

Oh man, is the crew shocked when they learn Dante has a kid. Lady and Trish probably remark about who in their right mind would lay with Dante, but they’d like his son. They become his eccentric Lesbian wine aunts who spoil him, much to his embarrassment.

Dante’s son gets along with Nero quite well despite the initial shock. They bond over having fathers they never knew about, and being quarter demons. Nero definitely offers whatever emotional support or coping strategies he can give, knowing it's difficult finding acceptance over your heritage. Best cousins.

He’s scared of Vergil. Terrified of him. When Dante’s son first met Vergil he ran behind his father, shaking like a leaf. The whole shop exploded and poor Vergil didn’t know what he did wrong. (Yes you do.)

If it wasn’t already obvious, Dante’s son is quiet, reserved, and shy, absolute nothing like his father. Dante tries his best to get him out of his shell but really has no idea how. So what does he do? Tell jokes. Lots and lots of jokes, dad jokes included.

“Why are piggy banks wise? They have common cents.”

“When does a joke become a dad joke? When it becomes apparent.”

“What does a vegetarian zombie eat? GRAINS!”

Sometimes it works, but other times Dante’s son sits there begging someone to help him. Oh god these are so terrible what the fuck.

Dante’s son will eventually warm up to Vergil, but it takes a while. Longer than what it took to get used to Dante. When the groundbreaking moment where he finally talked to Vergil happened, Dante has never felt more happy. He watched his kid, hood of his hoodie up, sit next to Vergil, who was reading, and initiated the conversation.

“Hey, uncle?... What were you and dad like when you were kids?”

Yes, Vergil actually spoke and told a few stories. It was incredible.

Dante’s son is literally his whole world. He loves that kid more than anything, and he makes sure to tell him that. The first time Dante told his son that he loved him, he cried, and Dante just hugged him tight and promised he wouldn’t leave him. He wouldn’t be without a family ever again.

Fatherhood would actually suit Dante quite well. Damn you Capcom.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Read it on AO3 | Rules | Buy this devil a coffee

[kelieah]

can’t help it (arvin russell x reader)

request (summary): @dhtomholland​ : hi !! i have an arvin request... what if arvin easily gets jealous when boys hit on y/n at school or jus try to talk to her and it was cute at first but y/n get annoyed at some point which leads to a small fight but arvin makes it up to her w flowers and telling her he jus wants to protect her 🥺🥺🥺

word count: 1.7k

warnings: language ofc, angst, fluff

edited: i also kinda forgot halfway through writing this that u requested he wanted to protect, i changed that up a bit sorry !!! also why the fuck am is my gifs not loading grrr

a/n: awwee this requesttt,, sorry for the late response. i’m not as quick as i used to be w requests 

main masterlist | arvin russell masterlist

You like Arvin a lot, that’s something you couldn’t deny. But lord, ever since you started dating this boy you don’t think you could ever get used to his temper and overprotective attitude. You appreciated it, of course, it’s just that there were many times when he’d let it get the best of him.

There was this one time he was picking you up from school, but you weren’t at the front like you usually were. So he decides to park and walk to your locker to see if you were there. You’re there, but with the company of someone else. His heart rate spikes at the sight of someone, or to be more specific, some candy-ass boy talking to you. He slowly walks over, not wanting to startle the both of you, and listens in on the conversation.

“I- I could help ya with the homework for math class. If y- you want of course,” the sweet, frail boy whose name is Cole, offers you.

You smile softly and nod while closing your lockers, “I would appreciate that a lot! I think I’m free—”

Before you could even finish your sentence you notice Cole huddle in fear before you. “Hi,” you hear a familiar voice from behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and places his chin upon your shoulder.

“Oh, hey Arvin,” you murmur softly and glance over at him. You know what he’s up to so you push him off slightly to return to your conversation with the other boy.

“Uhm, h- hello there. A- Arvin,” Cole mutters and cowers underneath Arvin’s piercing glare. 

You huff and shove your boyfriend aside. “Don’t mind him, like I was saying. I think I can after Sunday Mass, by the trees and tables if that’s alright?”

He gulps as he averts his eyes back and forth between the both of you. “Y- Yeah, is that okay?”

“I just said it’s alright—?” you stifle a laugh until you get cut off.

“Yeah, just studying though. If she tells me otherwise, I’ll cut your—'' Arvin threatens, causing every ounce of color from Cole’s face to drain.

“I’ll see you Sunday, Cole! Bye!” you immediately pull Arvin away and squeeze his hand harshly. “What is the matter with you!?”

“What?” he asks cluelessly and looks back at Cole who had already run off in complete fear and embarrassment.

“That poor boy. He’s just asking to study with me, that’s all,” you smack his arm.

He scoffs and shrugs you off. “Doll, I know you’re dull sometimes but c’mon. Every boy in the school probably wants you. Even boys like him, they just got some type of strategy or some shit,” he runs a hand through his hair and avoids your piercing glare. “Dull? First off, fuck you. Second, every boy? Arvin, grow up baby. I’m yours, and only yours. M’ pretty damn sure everyone knows that. Now fucking apologize or else I’m walking home,” you stop in your tracks and cross your arms. 

He stops as well and turns towards you, giving you a blank expression. You remain firm and raise an eyebrow at him, almost testing him to try you. “Sweetcakes, m’ sorry,” he groans and takes a step towards you.

You take a step back and raise both your eyebrows, continuing to stay stubborn. “Sorry, what?”

He takes one more look at you and wavers in defeat. He trudges over to you and falls into your arms, stuffing his face in your neck. You stifle a laugh and hold him up, hugging him close. “I’m sorry for threatening that stupid boy with dumb glasses. I just really like you and don’t want nobody touchin’ my girl. Nobody. Not even God. I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I won’t get jealous or overprotective again,” he drags out his words and whines against your skin.

You throw your head back and giggle. “Arvin! Okay, okay. You big softie. Apology accepted stupid. But, you better apologize to him too, okay?” you push him off you and glance into his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Kiss?” he pouts and leans towards your face. You roll your eyes and oblige, pecking his lips. You walk off towards his car and he let out another whine, complaining about how the kiss was too short.

You love how you’re able to bring out this vulnerable and softer side to Arvin. You’re lucky enough that he even started dating you. It shock you that the boy had emotions. You’re only partly joking about that. It’s a true miracle the way you make him fall to his knees for you. You both couldn’t get enough of each other. Though, there were days where Arvin really got on your nerves.

He just promised the other day to not get too jealous or overprotective, didn’t he? Yet, here is now cursing out the same boy who helped you with your studies behind the school’s building. “What the fuck do you want with her? Huh? I saw the way you look at her, don’t you lie to me boy damnit!” he raises his voice at Cole.

Cole stumbles back and hits the wall as Arvin holds his collar, “I- I swear it’s nothing like that Arvin! I promise, I’m just helping her out that’s all! W- We’re just classmates, I’d never try to meddle. Please man!” he begins to weep covering his face as Arvin raises his fist.

“Arvin Eugene Russell!” the two boys hear a louder voice from behind them. There you stand with an infuriated expression. Your jaw clenched your face red and your hands on your hips. 

Arvin mutters a handful of curses underneath his breath and lets go of Cole reluctantly. Cole plops down on the floor and hugs his knees to his chest as he watches the argument unravel between you and Arvin.

“Doll, this isn’t what it looks like. I was just lecturing him I swear—” Arvin holds his hands up in defense.

You completely ignore his attempts to redeem himself and brush past him, helping Cole up. “I am so sorry, are you okay?” you ask softly.

He wipes away his tears and nods in response. “Y- Yeah I’m okay, thank you. I should probably go now. I’ve caused enough problems,” he pulls away from your grasp and plays with his hands.

“No, you haven’t caused anything. I think he should go now,” you turn your head towards Arvin and send him a warning glare. He stares at you back in disbelief and clenches his jaw. You both stare at each other for a little longer, as if you were both challenging eachother to see who would back down. Arvin’s the first to crack. He scoffs and turns sharply on his heel, making his way back to his car.

“I- I’m so sorry, Y/n,” Cole bubbles sadly and wipes the sweat beads off his forehead. “I really am.” “Don’t be stupid, you’re fine. It’s my damn boyfriend’s problem, not ours. Come on, let’s go grab some ice cream,” you sigh and walk ahead, leaving him scrambling to catch up with you.

After the nice hangout with your newly made friend, he walked you home and apologized once more which almost made you slap the boy. Though it was calming to spend time with a friend other than your boyfriend, you still couldn’t believe Arvin’s recent behavior. 

You know he can get overprotective, but jealousy is something you never expected. You take your mind off of him once again by doing some homework until your peace is interrupted by the sound of loud knocks on your front door. “I’m coming! Jesus,” you yell frustatingly as the pounding on your poor wood gets louder. You open the door to see Arvin with a guilty expression, a heap of flowers in one hand and a dozen of pop in the other. You raise an eyebrow at him and lean against your doorway.

Your silence pushes him to speak up. “Look, I’m. I- I’m,” he grumbles out and avoids your gaze, staring at the ground.

“I’m?” you decide to poke at him and cross your arms, enjoying the entertainment in front of you.

“I didn’t mean to,” he huffs and holds out the things he brought, looking back at you.

Your face now remains unamused. “Come again?”

“Christ, woman,” he rolls his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry I almost beat the kid. I just hated the way his beady little shit eyes were staring at you. I coulda sworn the fucker was going to take you from me. I don’t want anyone to take you from me. I mean I know you’re not mine— No you’re mine, but not in a possessive way or something. I don’t know. I’m trying here, hell. I just, I’m just scared one day you’re gonna find someone better than some ditz like me,” he lets the bottled up feelings spill out his mouth like word vomit.

You look at him surprised and purse your lips, examining his face. He finally makes eye-contact with you and smiles weakly. You stifle a laugh and pull him into a bone-crushing hug that causes him to let out a soft gasp. He places down the flowers and pop, wrapping his arms around you instinctively. “Now you listen here fool, like I’ve said a million times. I’m yours, okay? I know I ain’t your object, and I’m glad you know that too. But nobody is gonna take me from you. Nobody, not even Paul Anka,” you tease quietly, earning a chuckle from him that makes you smile in content. “Wanna know why?”

He presses a warm kiss against your shoulder and sighs, “Why?”

“Cus I love your dumbass,” you murmur into his ear and rub his back comfortingly.

He tenses a bit and smiles happily, stuffing his face in your neck. “I love you too,” he mumbles incoherently into your skin. 

You giggle and run a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp. “Can you promise me not to do anythin’ like that again?”

“No,” he admits and begins to sway your body as he holds you.

You whine breathlessly and pull away to look at him. “Arvin! Why the hell not?”

He grins cheekily and shrugs nonchalantly, “Because I can’t help it.”

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[alreadyblondenow]

Not that innocent 

▸ Jaemin x reader ▸ 3.438k words ▸ Smut, Angst ?  ▸ Swearing, unprotected sex, a lot of kissing, slight nipple play, touching, fingering, mentions of sex, spitting, oral sex female receiving, high school au, older Jaemin, younger by a year reader.  ▸ Requested and part of B’s giving back event,  Ho Ho Ho?! See anon request message at the end of this drabble.

“I need this job, please listen to me during our sessions. Your mom will seriously fire me from being your tutor” Jaemin whines as he looks at your report card. “I need this job” he repeats and he’s desperate to keep it because he’s saving up for college.

“But you’re so boring and uptight whenever we’re studying-“

“And your mind is full of sex and sex only. Seriously that’s all you say to me”

“Well I can’t help it, you’re attractive and it’s fun teasing you”

“You’re impossible!” He shouts at you, raking his hair away from his face and breathing heavily while he thinks of another strategy to improve your studying. “Fine” he finally blurted out, exhaling a heavy sigh. “I’ll touch you. I’ll do whatever you want just pass your subjects”

You wanted to smirk at him and be proud that you can do it effortlessly but you can’t. Studying is hard. But who would’ve thought that your tutor, who’s innocent in many ways is making a deal with you that includes pleasure? Sure he looks hot and handsome at all times but, he’s Jaemin. All he knows is studying.

“Why are you suddenly quiet?” He sits beside you on your soft bed, still holding your damned report card. “Fine, I’ll lay out the terms and conditions. First, pass your quizzes. All of them, then I’ll touch you” he says in a very shy tone.

What he’s saying now excites the hell out of you so you turned your head towards him and showed him that you’re interested. “What’s the second condition?” You asked with a flirty tone. You watched him gulped before he answers you, turning shy and red as he says “Pass your exams and I’ll eat you-“

“Deal” you were quick to agree with him knowing that you are not sure if you can do it but it’s an opportunity that you will not pass. “I didn’t know you’re capable of this kind of stuff” you smirked at him, sitting pretty on your bed.

“I’m older than you, what do you expect. Besides, you know nothing about me ” he bites back, completely still annoyed at you because of your grades.

After he made that deal with you, Jaemin finds it easier for him to teach you. Surprisingly you are now quiet during your sessions, you whine less about the topics, and you’re improving. If Jaemin is being honest, he is actually scared that you might do a great job this time. But a deal is a deal. You, on the other hand, find studying really hard but everything will be worth it, you thought. It’s like hitting two birds in one stone, you get to have good grades and a handsome senior is willing to go down on you.

In three weeks, you passed all of your quizzes. They’re not perfect, but still, you passed and you impressed Jaemin. You were excited while showing off your scores and teasing him over and over again because he looked nervous. He was staring at the papers, flipping through pages and he looked like he wants to chicken out of the deal. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” you said as you turned your back on him, unbuttoning your school uniform to change into something comfortable but Jaemin is quick with hands and stopped you from changing.

“Let’s get this over with. It’s going to be weird if I touch you immediately so uhm,” he scratches his head and motions you to sit down on the edge of your bed. “Why don’t we make out for a while. Y-you know, to set the mood” he suggests, and you're completely in shock because he’s willing to do it.

He’s standing in front of you, looking so handsome in his school uniform. He bends a little to tuck a hair behind your ear, and slowly he went closer to you. Not even hesitating to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “Am I going to kiss a stone? Or are you going to return the kiss?” He asked.

You looked behind him to check if your door is locked,

it is.

And without hesitation, you swing your arms around his neck and positioned him in between your dangling legs on the edge of your bed. Your lips moved in a way that felt good for both of you, smiling in between kisses when you felt his hands unbutton your school uniform so you did the same to him. Effortlessly, he unclasps your bra which made you stopped returning the kiss and prevent your bra from falling. “You don’t like it?” He was worried for a second, he thought he had violated you.

“N-no. I’m just shocked you know how to unclasp a bra so easily” you let out an awkward laugh and Jaemin did too, he kissed you again and he is the one who removed your bra and throw it on the floor. You lied down on your bed comfortably, feeling shy because it’s Jaemin. He crawls on your bed, towering you and looking at you like he’s about to fuck you. But he’s not... right? He’s just going to touch you.

“What if I couldn’t stop myself and we have sex in the end, do you have a condom?” He shamelessly asked you that question that made your body heat up in an instant. His hand travels from your ankle all the way up to your thighs and plays with the hem of your panties under your skirt. He lowers himself on your half-naked body and kissed you oh so slowly.

It was lustful.

The way he kisses you right now is so different from earlier. But maybe it’s different now because he’s touching you already. When you asked for air pulled away from the kiss, he didn’t stop but he turned to your neck, kissing it slowly, feeling his hot tongue glide on the part that makes you weak, close your eyes, and part your lips.

But not for long.

His lips travel down, in the valley between your boobs, and your eyes automatically opened when you felt his tongue on your nipples. Teasing it to make it hard, sucking it to make it swollen. You thought that this is all it. That he doesn’t have anything more up his sleeves but you’re wrong. He parts your legs and pull your panties to the side with one hand and play with your wet slit.

Up and down. Very slowly. “Fuck” you said in an airy tone, brows furrowing and hands gripping your bed sheets tightly.

“Jaemin, is y/n there with you already? I’ll get back to you guys to bring you some snacks, okay?”

“Y-yeah, mom. That would be great! We’re almost done here, there’s not much work for school today” you shout back to your mom so she won't suspect. You hear footsteps fading and your heart was thumping so fast you thought that your mom will catch you and Jaemin. You were so busy being nervous that you didn’t even notice that Jaemin didn’t stop sucking your boobs and fingering you. But once you’re back to reality, he stopped and faced you.

“That’s it for today” he winked and teased you before putting your panties back and removing his finger. He turned his back at you and buttoned his school uniform quickly before your mom arrives with the food. You, on the other hand, did not waste any second to go to the bathroom and change into your house clothes.

What happened between you and Jaemin changed the way you think of each other especially you. You used to see him as this innocent guy but now every time you see him around the school, suddenly your knees become weak and you remember everything he did to you on that unforgettable afternoon after school.

What happened between you and Jaemin pushed you to study even harder so you can feel his lips on your lips again, so he can put his hand under your skirt again, and of course, so he can finally eat you.

“You okay?” his voice brought you back to reality while he put his stuff on the table and start studying with you. You nod as your answer and went back to putting your stuff on the table too. “I need to study for something too, but if you have questions regarding the activity that I gave you just tell me”

He rarely studies with you but when he does, you seriously find him very attractive. The way he writes in his notebook and the way he concentrates on what he’s reading is very sexy to you that it makes you wet this instance. So you shook your head and focused back on what you’re answering.

After a few minutes of solving some math questions, you feel his hand on your knee and touch it without looking at you. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he asked, still not looking at you. But you can’t speak because you’re too shy to tell him ‘don’t stop’ so you came closer to him and moved your stuff near him. He snorted and let out a low giggle, “thought so too” he says, and continue to caress your knee all the way up to your thighs under your skirt. Touching your skin while he reads his workbook, flipping pages like how he normally does like he’s not doing something to you under the table.

He didn’t touch you further after your study session with him. He said goodbye and good night to you and your mother before he heads home.

“Well, what do we have here, good exams mark. Shit, I feel proud. You did great, I must admit and I’m beyond impressed” he looks at your test papers and felt really proud because your scores were more than okay, they were great.

“I think I deserved more than having your mouth on my pussy then” you teased him. Lifting your skirt, and unbuttoning your school uniform in front of him. He shook his head in disbelief and pushed you on your bed, making you both giggle and laugh while you let your bodies bounce on your mattress. He tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear again, just like the first time he touched you, “if I have a condom, I would definitely have sex with you. But I don’t”

“And I don’t have either, fuck” you whine.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cum now. I didn’t get to make you cum last time, we didn’t have time. But now, we definitely have time” and without further discussions, he slammed his lips on your lips and quickly unbuttoned your uniform and removed your skirt until you’re only wearing your matching underwear.

“Why do you need me naked? Were not fucking right?” you giggled as he pulls away from you, watches him strip in front of you, and reveal his hard rocked abs for the first time.

“Just go with it” he went back to kissing you and situates himself in between your parted legs. Kissing and grind your bodies on each other, touching and moaning shamelessly like you did this a hundred times.

Whenever you’re in bed with Jaemin you seem to have no control over anything, he is the one controlling you in bed and you like it. He flips your body effortlessly and putting you on your stomach, before removing your panties and unclasping your bra. You don’t know but Jaemin is now naked like you on your bed for the first time now, and he is in awe seeing you like this.

“I want to see you-“ you tried turning your body to see the naked handsome guy, at your back but he stopped you. Pinned your body on the mattress and kissed your shoulders with wet lustful kisses.

“Sshh” is all he said before lifting your hips, making you arch your body and parting your legs from behind. He swipes his thumb on your wet slit to make you moan and turned on before he finally licks your cunt with one long stripe. Making your legs weak in an instant. His hands spread your ass cheeks and wet folds whenever he wants to gain more access to your cunt, while all you can do is take whatever he gives you.

Fingering you from behind with two fingers inside your cunt, licking you mercilessly, spitting on your cunt, and slurping it. He did everything he wanted before he makes you cum and making your legs shake uncontrollably. When he finally flips you on your back and finally seeing him naked, your body felt hot and your eyes heavy already but you’re smiling weakly.

“Don’t you sleep on me, we're having so much fun” he kisses your tummy to tickle you, and wake up until his mouth is near your boobs again, ready to suck your nipples. You can feel the hardness of his cock, poking your thigh while he’s busy with your boobs m. You didn’t expect him to be this big, and you’re somehow thankful that he doesn’t have a condom now because for sure his cock won’t fit you.

Until his mouth was too much and you unconsciously lifted your hips and glide your wet slit on his cock. He stopped what he’s doing and you’re quick to apologize, “No. Don’t apologize. I like it, do it again”

You didn’t think it through and followed Jaemin, you watched him lose his mind while he's on top of you and you’re moving your hips to wet his hard cock. He lowers himself to you making it easier for you to tease him and make him feel good, but he made you stopped and told you, “I’ll take it from here” the moment he took charge, it was like he was fucking you but not really.

But still, it felt so fucking good that you’re both moaning louder than before.

“I think I’m gonna cum again” you admitted, moving your head from side to side and arching your body to ease the sensitivity. You don't know but Jaemin is really horny right now, and he is about to do something he’ll sure regret afterward.

“Fuck it” he murmured. You thought he was going to kiss you but turns out he was going to ask you something, “Do you trust me?” He asked in a very low tone, lips on your cheek while his body continues to grind on top of you. He intertwines both of his hands with yours and put them above you. He looked so fucking hot and handsome at the same time. “Let’s fuck raw, I’ll pull out. Trust me”

He was breathing heavily and gasping sharply, kissing you deeply while he waits for your answer. You’ve never had sex without a condom and the risk scares you, but you’re too horny now and you want the same thing. So you nod your head yes and let out an airy ‘fuck’ when you finally felt him push inside you slowly. Gripping his hand tighter, and breathing heavily as he put his whole cock inside you.

“You feel so fucking-“ he thrust, “good” hard. Harder than you could ever imagine. And you love it.

His hips were quick, lips never leaving yours, catching each other’s moans while praising each other. And when you’re ready to let go for the second time, you bit his shoulder as you cum so hard feeling your legs shake again. Jaemin continued to thrust until he’s on edge, pulls out to pump his cock and cum on your stomach.

The pleasure was too much for both of you.

He lied down beside you and catch his breath, waiting for you to calm down too. He wanted to kiss you more, but he’s feeling the regrets now. So he simply checks up on you and asked if you’re fine. “More than fine” you answered, raking his hair away from his face. He smiled sweetly at you and covered you with youranket.

Having better grades and passing all your subjects in exchange for pleasure has done you good, but seeing your mom pays Jaemin for the last time hurt you a little. His job is done here. “Don’t worry, we can still see each other in school”

“Yeah but you’re graduating and we only have two weeks left for school”

“You’ll be fine” he smiles handsomely and embraced you tightly. “Go inside now,” he said.

And after that day, everything changed. You didn’t get to talk to Jaemin like how you used to because he’s graduating and busy preparing for college. Until one day the news came to you that he left already. Without even saying goodbye to you.

A year quickly passed by and you just graduated from high school and you’re busy packing your stuff for college. The doorbell rings and you call for your mom to get it but turns out she went outside without telling you. When you opened the door you’re surprised that Jaemin is in front of you now, shocked like you but he was smiling so big while you’re anger slowly balls and you couldn’t stop yourself from hitting him.

“Aw! Stop it- what did I do?” He whines.

“You didn’t say goodbye asshole!” You shouted.

“Hey, watch your mouth I’m still older than you. Jeez- okay, stop it. Seriously-“ You left him at your front door and didn’t even invite him inside. “Is your mom here?” he asked and invited himself in.

“Nope she went outside, I don’t know where” you answered and gave him the cold shoulder.

“How are you?” he smiled like he’s teasing you and you’re still not amused. “Heard you got into your dream college, wow. You’re studying really hard now, huh?”

“All thanks to you” you said and remembered everything from the past. From the way, he kissed you to how he came on your stomach. “You’re not here for my mom aren’t you?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I'm here for you” he admitted shyly. “I wanted to apologize. I kept thinking about you” he walked closer to you, but you went back to your room. He followed you of course, and while walking in the hallway he remembered how you two walked in this same hallway with your school uniforms. It feels like it's only yesterday, now you’re both in college.

He closed your door like how he usually does and watched you pack your stuff. He scans your room and noticed that you grew up well even without him. The magazines on your study table that you used to have are now thick books, he even noticed that your walls are full of sticky notes you use for studying and memorizing and that makes him happy because he taught you that strategy.

When you felt his presence behind you, you feel his hands on your shoulders and caging you with his. You missed him. “I’m sorry. I’m here now” he turned your body to face him, tucked your hair behind your ear, and kissed you.

And just like that your anger is nowhere to be found. “I missed you too,” you said, and came closer to him and hug him. Apologized for hitting him earlier.

“Do you have a condom now?” you both let out a laugh before you kissed again like good old times, undressing each other and praising each other in between kisses. He didn’t need a condom to be honest because he can always pull out, and besides sex with Jaemin is not sex if it’s not done raw.

Your leg is on his shoulder as he fucks you slow a deep this time, hands on your boobs while watching you lose yourself underneath him and after a few good minutes, he’s pumping his cock and cumming on your stomach again. As usual, he made your legs shake. He’s the only guy that can do that to you, Jaemin is still the best fuck you’ve ever had.

“Is this the part where you’re going to leave again without saying goodbye?” he smiles at you.

“No don’t be like that, I said I’m sorry, right?”

“Right” you smiled back at him and tried reaching for a kiss but he avoided you.

“Don’t do that I might fall in love with you” he admitted.

“I thought you already have feelings for me- what if I want you to fall in love with me Jaem?” He didn’t answer you but he gave you a kiss on the forehead and left you. Truth is, he never felt anything for you. And after the first time he had sex with you, he felt bad because he realized he loved the sex but he doesn’t love you. No. He just can't say it to you yet.

I got carried away, sorry. 3k is too much. And sorry I didn’t follow much from your request and changed it. 1, I don’t have any experience with roleplay sex so I have ni idea how to it write that part. I searched for something about that, but I’m not sure If what I’m reading is what you want so I scratched that just to make sure. sorry. 2, i scratched the ‘during christmas’ because again, i’m sorry if this is super late :((( i feel so bad. but thank you for your request. 

[englishmoribund]

A Paean to Learning English Vocabulary: The Time-Traveling Tale of Henry VIII's Math Triumph

Paean (noun): a song or hymn of praise or thanksgiving.

Etymology: The word "paean" comes from the ancient Greek word "paian," which was a song or hymn of thanksgiving to Apollo, the Greek god of healing. The word was later used in English to refer to any song or hymn of praise or thanksgiving.

History: In ancient Greece, paeans were sung to Apollo as a form of thanksgiving for healing or other blessings. The paean was also sung by the Greeks as a battle hymn, to invoke the god's protection and to encourage the warriors. The Roman poet Horace wrote paeans to celebrate victories of Augustus.

An Example Sentence Using The Word "Paean" - Overwhelmed with joy and relief after getting an A on his math test, Henry let out a victorious paean to the powers of staying up all night studying as he walked out of the classroom, ready to take on whatever else the future had in store for him.

The Word Paean In A Story - Once upon a time, in a far-off kingdom, there lived a young prince named Henry VIII. He was known for his intelligence and strategic thinking, but as a prince, most of his attention would have been focused on statecraft, diplomacy, and military strategy rather than mathematics. However, math was a subject that he had always struggled with. One day, when he was 17 years old, a strange portal opened up in his palace and, before he knew it, he was transported to the modern day.

As he walked around the streets, he couldn't help but notice how much things had changed. Cars zoomed by, people walked around with strange devices in their hands, and he even saw a man flying through the air in some kind of metal contraption. But despite the shock of it all, Henry was determined to make the most of this opportunity.

He soon found himself in a classroom, sitting in front of a math test. He had studied all night, pouring over textbooks and working through practice problems. He was determined to overcome his math struggles once and for all. He felt a mix of anxiety and excitement as he picked up his pencil and began to work through the problems.

As he worked, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. He realized that, despite all the advancements in technology and society, the basic principles of math were still the same. He felt a renewed sense of confidence as he put the finishing touches on his test and handed it in to the teacher.

A few minutes later, the teacher returned the tests to the class, and Henry eagerly grabbed his from the desk. He flipped to the last page and saw the big red "A" scrawled across the top. Overwhelmed with joy and relief, Henry let out a victorious paean to the powers of staying up all night studying. He felt as if he had conquered not just a math test, but the whole modern world. And with that, he walked out of the classroom, ready to take on whatever else the future had in store for him.

[bukojuiice]

ʚ  Midoriya, Bakugo, and Todoroki cramming school works with their S/O  ɞ *‧.₊˚*੭*ˊᵕˋ੭.*

izuku, katsuki, and shoto x gn! reader  ♡ 

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ These are some extremely self-indulgent hcs LMAO i’m currently consumed by a lot of school works and extracurricular activities, so i decided to take the time and write some of these up! this the first batch of hcs i’ve ever made so i hope you bear with some errors! i hope you enjoy!

hopefully i get to write more about the other bnha bois/girls soon so please also stay tuned for that!

if you like to see more from me, i have an ongoing bakugo x fem reader! smau called cuddle buddy! read it here!  ( ु•⌄• )  

✧ Izuku is very smart and hardworking so you’ve barely seen him cram any school work or tasks since the two of you started going out.

✧ Soft bby boi knows how to balance his workload from school whilst still being able to spend time with you.

✧ Now here were the two of you, partners for a huge science project that would serve as your midterms for the subject.

✧  Both of you were tasked to take care of two chicken eggs and treat them as your children. Draw faces on them, make them wear clothes, give them names and describe their personalities... literally treating them like actual babies.

✧ You were whining about it at first because it felt like an elementary project instead of something first year high school students (and those in the hero program for that matter) would do.

✧ Izuku remained positive however and reassured you that it was going to be a lot of fun.

✧ You were still salty and unimpressed by the project, but you couldn’t help but melt because of how cute Izuku was and how excited he was for this task. He really wanted to spend a lot of time with you and he was so so happy that you two were partnered for this project.

✧ Because it was midterms week, you were swarmed with tons and tons of stuff to do, so the two of you decided to finish everything else first then deal with the science project at the end of the week because it was the “easiest”. Boy.. were the both of you so so wrong.

✧ Izuku goes up to your room in the dorm so that the both of you can work on the project quietly, yet as he enters, he sees you panicking and running around the room, your camera hanging around your neck, holding two half-cracked eggs with weirdly sewn clothes and faces that looked like they were scribbled from sharpies.

✧ “Izu-kun... can you help me take pictures of our kids for the baby photobook? 

✧ He was about to faint on the spot from fantasizing about his future with you. 

✧ “Of course! hand me All Might Jr. first so you can take a picture of his cute little sister!” 

✧  Yes, your first born eggo is named after All Might. It was Izuku’s decision and you wanted to support him.

✧ You spent all day taking pictures, printing them, designing them and pasting them on the photo album. It was finally nighttime and the both of you are terribly exhausted and mentally drained.

✧ You and Izuku had creative minds so you were able to create the perfect photo album.

✧ Several hours have passed and Izuku still can’t stop thinking of the future he was going to have with you. What a cutie.

✧  After submitting and passing the photobook to the drop box Ilda left in the living room, Izuku goes up again to your room and is surprised by the sight of you sleeping soundly on your bed.

✧ He comes up to you, kisses your forehead and whispers these soft words to you:

✧ “I can’t wait to tell our future kids how I met you.” 

✧ Bakugo Katsuki has never crammed a school work or project in his entire life.

✧ You on the other hand, procrastinated a lot, yet could still pass tasks on time. Although, Katsuki still reprimands you for it. Calling you “dumb butt” instead of the usual name callings he uses whenever talking to your classmates which is “dumb ass” 

✧ He is your boyfriend so it’s not that much of a surprise, it’s just that you’re a bit shocked that he would be really really soft on you. It’s such a sweet gesture though.

✧ After binging a entire series on Netflix the other day, and because he couldn’t resist your pleas of begging him to watch this show with you, it completely slipped from the both of your minds that you had a dance project to work on for your Physical Education class.

✧  You immediately panicked, and Bakugo began to show his usual hot-headed side of him and scolded you for it. Despite him forgetting about it too.

✧ The two of you were going to film yourselves dancing to the Cha Cha dance style and you had a day to create the raw video without edits.

✧  You suggested that the two of you practice by uploading your videos to Tiktok and ask for advice from the professionals who posted their videos there too

✧ “Katsuki-kun do you think we should upload our videos to Tiktok?”

✧  “Absolutely fucking not.”  

✧ After watching a few beginner dance practice videos on Youtube, Katsuki immediately got the hang of it.

✧ Your man had the moves. He really was good at everything.

✧ You couldn’t help but stare at him as he continues to sway and follow the steps without missing a beat.

✧ Bakugo smirks at you, “Like what you see?”

✧ “Get your mind out of the gutter.” You threw a pillow at him as his tease came out of nowhere. 

✧  Since you were quite a slow-learner, it took a few hours before you got the hang of the first routine.

✧ In those few hours, you probably have stepped on Bakugo’s toes a few hundred times and a few hundred fucks were cursed out of his mouth every time it happened.

✧  He was still patient with you though in his own little way. Constantly scolding you every time you made a mistake, but never made you feel guilty for it. 

✧ You were able to finish recording the raw video by evening. A few hours to spare before the deadline. Either way,  the both of you were exhausted when the adrenaline finally died down. 

✧ “I can’t wait to dance with you again like this. Maybe Waltz or Ballroom next time?”

✧ “You’re a shitty dancer so don’t expect it to happen anytime soon.”

✧ “Then again, I’m dancing with you. So it doesn’t matter if you’re bad. The important thing is, it’s going to be special since I’m with you.”

✧ And at that moment, you could feel your heart explode from all these soft emotions.

✧ Shoto was naturally smart. He could finish a lot of tasks in a few hours without getting distracted. That was his strategy ever since he was in Elementary. Getting things done right away and getting flawless remarks and grades on them.

✧ But ever since the two of you got together, he insisted that the two of you would do your school works together. So, every night, whenever there was homework, you would immediately yeet over to Shoto’s room to answer the tasks with him.

✧ It’s really cute. Not only do the two of you get to bond together but, you were helping each other too. It was the ideal relationship.

✧ Shoto is very particular with a lot of fancy things, so he even has this humidifier in his room with your favorite scent so that the both of you can calmly continue your work.  He even has a comforter sprawled upon the floor so that you could sit comfortably. How sweet of him ;w; 

✧ This time around though, the two of you were partnered up for  to answer a elaborate math problem that you were going to present the next day. 

✧ You exceled in your subjects with Math being your weakest point, sometimes even getting unfavorable grades on the subject. Shoto was the exact opposite though. Which wasn’t surprising because he needed to be good for his quirk. How far his fire can go, the trajectory of his ice and all that jazz. 

✧  He wasn’t disappointed that he was partnered with you for this though, despite it being your weakness. In fact he couldn’t be happier. As long as he was spending time with you. 

✧ After reading through the problem and finding the formula, you were already stressed out. Todoroki took notice of this immediately and decided that the two of you should take a break first. He brings you to the convenience store near the dorm. Your hand holding his as he tells you that you could buy any snack you want.

✧ Using his father’s credit card of course.

✧ After coming back from the store, the two of you decided to head straight back to the math problem. It was very very complicated,  especially since the two of you had to divide the work because it was required for the project for the two of you to evenly contribute to it. It was a math problem your braincells couldn’t take anymore.

✧ “Shoto-kun, I can’t take this anymoreee.” You whined, resting your head on his shoulder.

✧ “Come on (Y/N), just a little bit more. We’re almost finished.”

✧  Shoto was finished with his part of the solution, while you were still struggling. It took the whole night to do so but you were able to answer it eventually.

✧  The next day, it was finally time for the presentation. Shoto was able to present his solution perfectly, while you had some slip-ups and mistakes here and there. The both of you didn’t get a good grade because of that... but to him, it didn’t matter.

✧ “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. It’s my fault we got a bad grade.”

✧ “It’s alright (Y/N). It doesn’t matter. As long as I get to experience something different with you and spend time with you every single day, I’m happy and contented. 

✧ You were so blessed to have someone like Todoroki Shoto in your life. What did you to deserve such a precious and kind boyfriend?

-End.  ♡‧₊˚

[verycleverboy]

Today in the false reality of the Republican Party

To Matt Masterson, the review of 2020 ballots from Maricopa County, Ariz., that's underway is "performance art" or "a clown show," and definitely "a waste of taxpayer money."

But it's not an audit.

"It's an audit in name only," says Masterson, a former Department of Homeland Security official who helped lead the federal government's election security preparations leading up to November's election. "It's a threat to the overall confidence of democracy, all in pursuit of continuing a narrative that we know to be a lie."

By lie, he means the assertion from former President Donald Trump and some of his allies that election fraud cost him a second term in the White House.

And, Masterson says, the strategy chosen by the Arizona's Republican state Senate leaders is working as intended to undermine confidence in the outcome of last year's vote.

The process is a simple exercise in how disinformation spreads and takes hold in 2021. And experts fear it presents a blueprint for other states and lawmakers to follow, one that is already showing signs of being emulated across the country.

"Now we have a playbook out there," said Masterson, who is currently a policy fellow with the Stanford Internet Observatory, "where if you don't like the results — by the way in an election that wasn't particularly close ... you just claim you didn't lose and in fact the process itself was rigged against you."

(continue reading)

A few quick words to get us up to speed: The 2020 Maricopa County (AZ) election results have already been audited multiple times. Every one of these audits were instigated by the Arizona GOP, and every time the results came back squeaky clean. No irregularities. No

Each of the previous audits were done by-the-book by respected firms, so obviously they couldn’t do that again. For the current ongoing Republican attempt to delegitimize the American system, they hired a firm with no expertise in the field led by a “stop the steal” conspiracy theorist. An on-air host from the ultra-right wing media outlet One America News not only fundraised for the latest “audit”, but organized trips for out-of-state legislators to give this exercise in fraud a veneer of respectability that it absolutely didn’t earn. 

Meanwhile, the “process”, such as it is, seems designed with the specific intent of cooking the books. One of the on-the-floor observers shared her horror story with the Washington Post.

I was stunned to see spinning conveyor wheels, whizzing hundreds of ballots past “counters,” who struggled to mark, on a tally sheet, each voter’s selection for the presidential and Senate races. They had only a few seconds to record what they saw. Occasionally, I saw a counter look up, realize they missed a ballot and then grab the wheel to stop it. This process sets them up to make so many mistakes, I kept thinking. Humans are terrible at tedious, repetitive tasks; we’re especially bad at counting. That’s why, in all the other audits I’ve seen, bipartisan teams follow a tallying method that allows for careful review and inspection of each ballot, followed by a verification process. I’d never seen an audit use contraptions to speed things up.

Speed doesn’t necessarily pose a problem if the audit has a process for catching and correcting mistakes. But it didn’t. Each table had three volunteers tallying the ballots, and their tally sheets were considered “done” as long as two of the three tallies matched, and the third was off by no more than two ballots. The volunteers recounted only if their tally sheets had three or more errors — a threshold they stuck to, no matter how many ballots a stack contained, whether 50 or 100. This allowed for a shocking amount of error. Some table managers told the counters to recount when there were too many errors; other table managers just instructed the counters to fix their “math mistakes.” At no point did anyone track how many ballots they were processing at their station, to ensure that none got added or lost during handling.

(full article here)

It’s almost like manufacturing errors is the point of this fiasco, delegitimizing and destabilizing the American system. It’s almost like the Republican party was presented with a stark choice by the very crazy, very violent people who make up the most motivated part of its base: Either your career goes or the electoral process does. Pick one. And united as a body, in lock step all the way down the line, the Republican Party chose the path of personal power and international humiliation over dignity, morality, and democracy. Welcome to the New Cult Of The Lost Cause, just as stupid, hate-filled and built on lies as the old one. 

And for those who are brain-broken enough to genuinely believe there’s still a legal route to reinstall Donald Trump, a man whose name will forever be marked as the sorest loser in the history of American politics, Lawrence Norden, director of the Election Reform Program at the Brennan Center for Justice, has an answer for them (via ABC News), one that sadly they’ve willfully ignored over and over again, and will continue to do so.

"We already had the court battles. And in the case of the presidential election, when the totals are certified in Congress it is over. And there is no constitutional route to reverse that."

To which I add: 

It’s over. For the love of God, grow up and move the fuck on.