#give them to you for the lowest price i can possibly set without feeling like I'm being cheap and devaluing my work
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MWIII Campaign Thoughts and Reviews
(Played in the recruit difficulty because I suck at FPS games, and I want to explore and spent time in the campaign without dying too much). Leave some thoughts!
⚠️SPOILER ALERT⚠️
So… that was devastating.
(+) To start things off, Makarov - Boy, holy shit. Yes. YESSS. They didn’t hold back with the new Makarov. He’s a mastermind, he’s a charming fella, he’s a psychopath lol. And the fact that he smiles a lot in this campaign just adds to the creepiness. I might get some side-eye here, but this Mak can go head-to-head with the OG!Mak. He’s always onto something, he’s proven destructive, had the 141 hauling ASS to chase him.
Makarov had stolen American missiles from ULF, caused false flag missile attacks on Russian Military base, and successfully orchestrated a false airplane hijacking, all under ULF's name - everything in the span of 48 hours since he got out of prison. I saw people saying that this Makarov ain't got nothing on the OG one has to be inhaling some shit copium because this is only in one single game and he's destroying shit.
I know just one game with rushed development won’t be enough for an iconic character like him, so I’m glad they didn’t kill him.
(-) I absolutely ABHOR, DETEST, LOATH the Open Combat Missions (OCM). It is so very not Call of Duty campaignesque. it doesn’t help anything with the narrative, and if anything, it even took away the narrative for us. The former missions in former games are iconic in their own way because the mission designer put a lot of thought into how the game will be played, the situations we found ourselves in.
But OCM's, we're like... Left to our own devices without any story-driven dialogues.
I think one of the reasons why MWII was so close to everyone's heart was because of the banters between the characters, especially in Alone. Here, because it's literally our choice and our time, it left us with no actual given time to know and love the characters more than we already did. Yes we love the characters, MW19 and MWII did that for us. But in this one? They said "character development is done, mate. Now go to war.”
Then again, is OCM a product and evidence of MWIII’s rushed development? 100% yes. I don’t give a shit if they cover it with “oowh we make OCM so you can play the missions differently each time without repeating the same mission over and over again!”. Let me ask you this, Activision - Have ‘repeating the mission over and over again’ been a problem with us campaign-enjoyers? No! I played the MWII campaign like 5 times, in all difficulty (except realism I still love my life), and I enjoyed it, because the mission designers took a lot of time and thought to it instead of just creating a map, putting a bunch of loadouts scattered around the area and throw us in it. So yes, it’s clear that OCM is a product of rushed development. It sucks the life out of the campaign missions.
Some people may enjoy it, but I play the campaign exactly for the linear style missions, not DMZ style.
(+) Look, I said it before that I will go to the campaign with the lowest expectation possible. I expected Mak to be sub-par, I expected them to play safe with the characters, and BOY WAS I WRONG. Setting aside the point above where the character feels stuck on the character development (which is a huge minus btw), all the characters have time to shine in their own missions, especially Price because I feel like we play him the most. However, I do also love the fact that the girls get shit done here. Farah and Laswell did their work so beautifully and apparently it was revealed that Laswell will be a MP operator, so that’s cool.
(+) Ghost being a menacing presence, can stood his ground. Price being level-headed though at the same time unhinged as usual. Gaz being the voice of reason throughout the entire fucking game LMAO. Soap being the brave man he is, the passion and fury is evident throughout the campaign. Farah being badass and dependable as usual. Alex being the main supportive guy to Farah (Faralex is canon at this point argue with a wall). Nikolai being our most reliable get-away guy.
And of course, Graves and Shepherd being the fucking goofy ahh duo I actually find interesting. The trial cutscene was such a goofy scene LMAO the fact that they backstabbed each other in the ass is real funny. I side with Graves though. However wrong and unhinged he may be, Graves is just a guy doing his job and did what he’s told to do.
(+) I love the fact that Mak tried to frame Urzikstan to pin the blame on them. It's exactly what the OG!Makarov did but in HD. The Passenger mission is phenomenal and more damn traumatizing if only it was a bit longer and more stretched. There are many more reference to the OG games and I absolutely love it.
Now…
Soap’s Death
Remembering all the MWII missions with Soap... It hits differently now, man.
(-) I've read a lot of people's arguments about it that the fact that it happened is just for shock value and kind of disappointing. Because let’s be real here, Soap is an SAS who got the name Soap because of how much of a slippery bastard he is. Granted, Mak is an ex-Spetsnaz and can fight with Soap. But how he went down in a goddamn takedown without any chance of fighting is just… it’s not it.
To add to that, the reaction from the boys is just... Underwhelming? Like I get it they're battle-hardened SAS soldiers, but let them show some damn emotions for fuck’s sake. One of the main reason why the OG!Soap’s death is really painful is because of Price’s reaction to it. How he said “NO. NO NO NO SOAP!!” While he shook Soap’s lifeless body in the table. At least let Price kneel to him, straighten his body, touch his vest. Close his eyes, gather Soap’s hand and PUT HIS GUN ON his chest all the while Ghost and Gaz knelt beside them. I do love the fact that they literally went to Scotland to let go of his ashes with Ghost holding the urn though. I cried in this scene.
And the fact that it happened with the shortest campaign out of all the reboot MW games, it just felt rushed. Yes. It’s completely rushed, there’s no doubt about it. Again, the result of rushed developments.
(+) Now, with that said, I kind of want to shed light on how Soap is literally the youngest guy in the group. He had so much to live for. He's a sunshine in the middle of this gruff emotionally hardened man. He's such a joy to be around. He's brave. He's fresh. The fact that he's got so much to live for adds to the sadness and bitterness, which I actually like.
Sometimes I do kind of like those kinds of deaths, where the character is too soon to die, because it hit so much harder and in a different way than the OG! one. We got to see the OG!Soap went from when he was an FNG, turn to a captain, to a man of fortitude that earned Price's honor and sacrificed himself to protect Price. We saw how he developed and changed. We saw his entire career with us throughout all the OG!MW trilogy.
Reboot!Soap's story barely even started, and the fact that he's still so young, imagining how he'd be one hell of an officer, how he'd lead his team in the future.
OG!Soap’s death is sad because all the times and memories we’ve been through with him, but Reboot!Soap’s death is equally sad for the times we could’ve gone through with him.
I want to say this though, some people said that Soap's death is sudden, but I wouldn't agree with that. I think the telltales are all there.
In the helicopter scene after Price and Soap caught him in Verdansk, Mak literally SAID HIS FULL NAME. That is a literal pinpoint death sentence from Makarov. And how emotional Soap’s reaction is compared to the other boys when the airport blew up. The signs are literally all there! I saw it coming actually.
So is Soap’s death rushed? Yes. Could it have been executed better? Yes. Is it for shock value? Yes. But is it as sad? Yes. Honestly, I blame the rushed development and due dates for this. Activision is a cash grabber who wanted a yearly release so they can catch more money. I fucking bet my ass that initially they didn’t want to kill Soap, but it’s like a last-minute decision to make this game actually look like it’s worth 70 dollars.
Like by the end of the game, nothing has been accomplished. Big Bad Guy is on the loose, and we lost Soap. Yea we did stop some of Makarov's attacks, but we ended with a loss. It's a completely sad ending. I just wish we get to continue with more missions after Soap's death like in OG!MW3 though :(
WHAT'S NEXT?
Now. Shepherd is positively fucken dead. Price is now an actual criminal and a fugitive. He just killed a 4-star US Marines general in his own office. Price is entering his insane and unhinged era. I do wonder if he'll go even more unhinged than this.
The story will undoubtedly continue in the MP seasons (although probably only 2 seasons that mattered because it'll also undoubtedly be filled with skins and collabs and shit). I think it will also focus more on transitioning to the next CoD games, which will be Black Ops (It is confirmed that for the 2024 and 2025 CoD, it will be Black Ops games).
We're talking future here, so if there's going to be a CoD MWIV, It might be possible that this is the game where we'll finally defeat Makarov while the 141 copes with losing Soap. I do wonder if Price will become too unhinged and will get rid of everything on his way to kill Mak. Price's reckless acts will become too much for Gaz that it's starting to hurt other people and himself, and Gaz will do something against Price's command or wish - and Ghost will have to choose a side. Now that's the kind of drama I want to see.
What do I score this campaign, what do I score this campaign... The story is actually good, but because the development is evidently rushed, the packaging feels a bit hollow. It's a 7/10 for me!
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Wait you know what
We get to pet a dog named Riley. 10/10, Game of The Fucking Year.
Reboot!Logan/Hesh (?) 👀
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So there it goes! If you've read this far I love you and Activision will pay for my therapy (ʘ ͜ʖ ʘ)
#call of duty modern warfare iii spoilers#call of duty modern warfare 3 spoilers#mwiii spoilers#mw3 spoilers#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw#cod#call of duty modern warfare III#call of duty modern warfare 3#call of duty modern warfare 2023#task forc 141#tf141
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We’re going out in style, babe (I)
God, it’s been a WHILE. I really lost all zeal for writing for a little while, until recently I watched the tv series ‘Mr. & Mrs. Smith’ (it’s so so good, you guys!! everyone go watch it) and it got the ol’ wheels turning. This was supposed to be a one and done thing but I got carried away and I lack the stamina to write a big whole thing so this’ll be a two-parter.
Anyway. This is my little version of it with Price. Angst and some stuff. The usual business. Haven’t written anything in months so please read this with the lowest possible expectations. Ya girl’s rusty.
Pairing : John Price x F!reader
Trigger warning : Explicit Sexual Scenes
It’s almost romantic.
The sight of husband and wife lay bare, broken and bloody. Look closely enough to see past the gore, past the ugliness set in a halo of ichor to see a sense of deliverance. The gift of release knowing they’ve met their end, and they’ve met it together.
Well, almost.
You choke out a wretched cough seeped in blood. One you’d feel rip into you, bullet holes and all, if you just weren’t so tired. You can taste it, though — coppery and astringent.
Punctuating.
This is it, you think, feeling the curve of your spine slacken at the relief of what’s coming.
I’m sorry, John.
The words spume against your lips, the only sound making it past them is a wet gurgle.
You’re grateful, for once, for the tears mar your eyesight. They keep you from seeing the true extent of his pain. You can feel it though, his agitation, his helplessness simply in the feather-light brush of his fingertips against your own. It can’t be easy, watching his wife slowly bleed to death beside him while he does the same. Seeing the way your lips turn ashen under a cochineal film of blood, watching the space between each breath lengthen gradually until all that’s left is the in between.
It’s slow. Painful. Each passing second permeated in struggle.
But better him than you.
Let me be first to go, you think in your typical manner of self-service.
It’ll all have been worth it, if only you’re the first to go.
“Oh,” It’s the first thing you can think to say,
“You’re English.”
It’s not the first thing you notice about him, though. No the thing that catches your attention at once is his eyes. Clear, calm and oh so blue. The sheer depth of them, though. Stare into them much longer, and you might not be able to find your way back out.
“Disappointed?” The question is dipped in jovial cadence. Thank God. He’s not offended.
“No. Not disappointed. I was only expecting—.” You pause, uncertain on what expectations you had starting out. Whatever they were, you can’t really remember now.
“What were you expecting, love?” He asks, simply and you know without a shadow of a doubt that it’s sincere. It echoes in the resting timbre of his voice, in the sharpness of his gaze which is dulled only slightly by something you might confuse for affection if you didn’t know any better.
You can only stare in response. Wait for the punchline that never comes.
Jesus Christ. He really does wants to know.
It’s unfamiliar territory for you to be in. To hold someone’s concern in your grasp the way you do his. However, as hard as it is for you to accept, it seems just as easy for him to simply give it away.
The weight of it makes your heart beat faster. Harder. Suddenly your mouth is too dry and you fight the urge to blink and break the spell. If he notices your discomfort, he says nothing about it.
An odd thing, really. That the two of you were matched.
“I’d like for our first day of marriage to not be a complete disappointment.” He prompts, still expecting your answer.
“Listen, uh—”
“John.” He supplies with a tone that makes you think you’re missing out on a joke.
Yeah, it’s a fake name. Haha. I get it.
“Jane.” You reciprocate, awkwardly.
“I’m Jane. And you’re perfect — er, John.” You declare with a sharp inhale only to be met with the scent of him. A bonfire is the first thing that your mind puts up front and centre. A bonfire doused out by a the lightest drizzle, so the smell of smoke still lingers. Along with it, the wafting aroma of cinnamon. Chocolate. All things warm and inviting.
You decide, in that moment, that you really really like the way he smells.
“Starting off with perfection, am I? At least give me till our silver year to really nail it.” He states, yet again, with such utter sincerity you almost miss the joke entirely.
“Till our—? Oh. Right.” You glance away, sheepish.
“This is yours; I believe.” Through your peripherals, you see a ring dangling at the top knuckle of his little finger. A delicate gold band. Simple and suited to your style. You glance at the finger right beside and see that he’s already worn his.
Right. Fuck.
“Uh, yeah. Thank you.” You reach out to take it, but he curls his finger back into his palm.
“Oh no, darling. Let me.” With the utmost care he grabs hold of your wrist, his thumb closing around your pulse — which much to your dismay is racing. It looks so slight, enclosed in his grip — which is paradoxically unyielding and yet so unbearably soft. A cushioned cage you might not mind being held captive in. You can’t bear to meet his eyes, so you keep your gaze downcast, intently focused on the way he slips the ring on your finger.
It’s not supposed to mean anything. Just work. Practicality more than something romantic. You’re spies and being married only makes it less likely that one of you will defect.
But for some reason it doesn’t feel that way. A moment shrouded in solemn intimacy. A promise. It feels that you’re bound to him, a stranger , just with the simple decent of a golden band down your finger. A covenant not meant to be entered into lightly — it’s an undeclared forfeiture of your life into the hands of another. So no, it’s not exactly romantic.
It’s something so much more.
“It’s official, eh? Mr. And Mrs. Smith.” Your hand still rests against the back of his and he makes no movement to release it.
You don’t much seem to mind.
You sleep in different beds, of course.
A habit formed with some difficulty, you’ll admit. There are times when you’ve parted ways in the hall like two men on the opposite ends of a duel — fingers curled around the trigger, waiting on the impulse to pull it. You’ve never given in but you’ve come close.
That fading post mission adrenaline leaves you pliable to your baser instincts, and you find yourself imagining all the ways he could make it better.
All the ways you could.
One night, in a hotel room in Verona, you found yourself skirting the precipice of giving in, with nothing but a 6 inch wall between the two of you.
You pictured it. Some other version of you, ready to take the plunge. This other you having the privilege of indifference in a make-believe realm wherein consequences don’t matter, and you tried to swallow the envy that rose up your throat like bile.
Tried and failed.
Your hands seem to move on their own accord as they slip between your thighs, your mind fabricating the illusion of his own taking their place.
A practiced dance of your imagination and dexterity that takes place often. More than you’d ever admit, even to yourself. You’d brand yourself in shame the morning after, and yet at night, all alone, you come at the thought of all the ways he’d take you.
He’s big. You know it.
You’ve caught glimpses of the outline of his cock in the bugle of his briefs like a voyeuristic pervert. He seemed big enough when flaccid, and you quivered.
You imagine the girth of him, hard and throbbing, promising all the ways he’d make it fit.
You use three fingers, push them deeper still and try to mimic the ways he’d fill you. You’re certain you fall short. He’d stretch you till your cunt had no give left, and then he’d stay there. Let you mold yourself to him, so he’d never feel the need to go elsewhere.
Knowing he’s within an earshot, you’re louder than you normally are. Much to the dismay of the men you’ve slept in the past, you were never vocal in bed. You’d reach orgasm, nearly mute and theatrics for the sake of male ego was something you couldn’t spare the patience for.
Tepid — that’s what they called you, disappointment oozing from each syllable.
You just couldn’t bare to disappoint John.
You put on what can only be considered a barefaced performance for the pure interest of his attention, expressing desires aloud you wouldn’t even dare admit in the privacy of your own self-contemplation. It spurs you on to climax, a fortissimo of vulgarity spewing from your lips.
In the aftermath you lay there breathless, caught unawares by just how far you took this little experiment of yours. Granted, it was all for John’s benefit but somewhere in the middle of it the pretence washed off you to reveal a gleam of authenticity.
Reeling from it, you’re unable to sleep a wink.
“Sleep well, then?” He asks you, the morning after.
“Uh huh. Some of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in my life, John.”
He looks at you like he’s about to call you out on it. Never does.
You resume your compartmentalized way of living soon after. Other than a shared fake name, your home, and the covert particulars of your questionable line of work, you two don’t share much.
Until a mission calls for it, you’ve managed to keep to yourselves a fair amount. You usually cross paths at mealtimes, which you never complain about since he wordlessly took it upon himself to do all the cooking, only letting you help clean.
Quaint domesticity at its finest.
“Safe to assume you chose high risk work as well.” He’d said over breakfast on your first morning there. “Why?”
You’d entered the kitchen to already find him there frying some eggs over the stove. You notice the little dining table to the side already set for two, a glass of orange juice poured for the both of you and toast points standing in their rack in the center of the table.
He gestured for you to take a seat before serving you a duo of over easy eggs and cup of coffee before taking his seat across.
Well, then.
Maybe there were some perks to this life of married domesticity after all.
“I thought I could use a challenge.” You offered him a half answer, as close to the truth as you could.
“And what was it that you did before this?” He asked
“Should you really be asking me that?” You countered.
“I think so, given that you’re my wife.”
My wife.
Enjoying the bit a little too much, aren’t ya John?
So were you, if you were being honest. But honestly never was your strongest suit.
“And why did you—?” You questioned him back in an effort to evade, “Pick high risk, I mean.”
“I’m ex-military, love. Figured I’d choose what I’m used to.” He answered you almost immediately, with not a hint of discomfort or thought of reserve. Either he was a fabulous liar—
Or he trusted you already.
And you didn’t know what to do with that.
“I like my eggs scrambled, by the way.
“Glad to know you feel comfortable your preferences for eggs with me, Jane.”
“Small steps, John.”
Six months in, and aside from a few close calls, you and John seemed to make a good team.
You’ve found that while he’s quick to improvise. Almost always, there’s a wrench thrown in the works, and while you might grapple over a changed course of action, he’s already adjusted to the new circumstances.
You’ve also found that he hates being separated from you in the field. You used to think it to be a manifestation of suspicion, to constantly have an eye on you.
Not that you’d blame him if it was. You weren’t exactly a fountain of knowledge when it came to sharing things of a personal nature. It would only be natural for a little mistrust to brew between a set of spies.
Married, or not.
You were disabused of that theory all too soon.
“Status update?”
“Made it through. I lost them.” You wheeze out, just barely.
“You good? You okay?” The fear in his voice is palpable through your earpiece as you stumble through to an alleyway and try to catch your breath. With the adrenaline waning off you finally feel the bullet that grazed your shoulder.
Flesh wound. You’ll live.
“Jane, fucking answer me.” He rasps, urgent and desperate. Like his sanity depends on your well-being.
It pisses you off, sometimes. Just how deeply he cares. Would you dare call him out on it, though? Now that you’ve been fed on it for months till your belly was ready to burst, like a stray turned house cat. Would you survive without it?
“I’m fucking winded, John. Just need to catch my breath. I’ll be better if we could get the fuck out of here and go—”
Home.
“—back.” You say, instead. “Let’s rendezvous at—”
“I’m coming to get you. Just stay put, yeah?”
“Jesus C—” You hiss through clenched teeth, pressing down the base of your palm into your shoulder to help slow the bleeding down. The pain of it shoots down your arm like veins of lightning, only adding to your irritation. “I’m not a child, for fuck’s—”
“Jane.” The tone of his voice shuts you up. There’s not an ounce of anger or annoyance in it. Only supplication.
Well, shit.
You knew from the very first day you met him — John was a man rooted in conviction. Hard to sway, even harder to deny.
“Fine. I’m waiting.”
He finds you hunched against the wall not 10 minutes later and you can see him visibly sag in relief. The moment he turned the corner and his eyes fell upon your own, his contracted brow-line receded, the rigidity in his stance eased, and the look on his face—
If the deities could speak to a man’s worship, you thought, this is what they would talk about.
“How bad is it?” He offers you a hand to help you stand, the other immediately seeking to find the wound hidden under the crimson blotted front of your shirt, tugging slightly at the neck of it to get a better look.
“I’m sure you’ve seen worse.” You suddenly feel all too shy at the thought of a little exposed skin in front of the man who is your husband. When his thumb grazes the underside of the wound, an unsuppressed flinch jostles you in his hold and his grip tightens.
“You’ll need stitches.” He murmurs, his movements now zephyr-like, fingers mindlessly wandering across the span of your collar bone. You can’t help but imagine the way he’d help you undress, fingers caught at the bottom seam of your shirt being gently lifted. His thumb hooking underneath — maybe just to unassumingly graze against the skin of your abdomen. Maybe to see what the rest of you would feel like against the warmth of his touch.
You’ve caught him staring — whenever you’re dressed bare in nothing but a tank top and loose pair of shorts, the lace hem of which dances so gently across the smooth expanse of your thigh. You’ve witnessed him stop in his tracks, his gaze trained downward for a moment too long to not be considered improper and just then you find it. The effervescent unsheathing of his jealousy, towards a garment of all things. It doesn’t stay long; you could blink and miss it.
But you don’t miss much.
So, when he helps you undress, later that night, and tends to your wound—
Would he stop there, you wonder?
Would you maybe want to find out?
The first time he does fully undress you, is on the eve of your first-year anniversary.
You’re greeted with a gift — a bottle of Laphroaig, 40 and garment bags with a little something for the both of you. Enclosed within an envelope is the note:
Congratulations on a successful first year of marriage.
“Be a shame for rest of it to go to waste.” You say, when John immediately reaches for the bottle. His thumb swipes across the label in an appreciative caress while he tips the cap in your direction as a way of asking drink this with me?
“Keen to dress up for me, love?” He unzips your bag to reveal a hint of luminescent satin — deepened cerulean, to match his eyes.
“I—”
“Because I am.”
You see it unfold before you — the extent of his imagination. Unfurling like an iris in bloom. His eye-line coasting across the length of your silhouette, pausing at slight intervals — the slope of your neck, the curve of your breasts, the pliable swathe of your abdomen. His fists clench in a trice and you feel the pulse of it hammering in your core.
A building reservoir of desire you’ve held back behind a dam of logic that strains beneath the weight furthermore.
He makes you feel at a loss — seemingly unpulsed by this conspicuous display of obscene want. Hunger for what is continuously denied.
Either he takes it on the chin like too good of a sport, or he simply hides it better than you do.
Either way—
You might as well try to even out the playing field.
With a rapid maneuver fuelled only by provocation and guile, you crook a finger along the collar of his button down, the palm of your other hand placed securely over his chest.
“I will, if you will.”
This was it — the fracture in the levee holding back a year’s worth of self-deception. With the curtain drawn on every enciphered impulse, you could finally meet him on equal, honest footing. The kindling that lay bare now set alight and you can only hope you aren’t scorched by it.
And if you are—
You pray it consumes you quick.
The rest of the evening just kind of blends together — three finger pours, a little music, some dancing, if you could even call it that.
John’s generosity with the scotch turned you sloppy, with all your past attempts at decorum now semi-liquid — like a condensed pour of honey out the jar.
“Dance with me, Jane.”
“Just want to get your hands on m’, don’t ya? Clingy fucker.”
Pot, meet kettle, you think to yourself.
Drunk or not, at least you’re self-aware.
It’s in the middle of the night when you jostle awake, with a dry mouth and a hammering in your skull that you feel in your teeth. Somehow, you made it to bed. Still dressed.
You smooth a palm across the creased satin encasing your body, bunching the fabric into your fists absentmindedly.
“Couldn’t bare to take you out of it just yet.”
You’re caught off guard to find John lounging in the chair in the corner of your room, your dulled senses inhibiting the reflex to reach for your gun.
“Never sneak up on a spy, John. Could’a shot you dead if I wasn’t this fucking hungover.”
“Thank God for small mercies. You’d make an awful widow.” His tone bleeds irony but there’s an undertone to it. It’s one you don’t recognize.
He’s since rid himself of his jacket and cufflinks, with the first few buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up and his arms crossed over his chest that rises and falls with every deliberate breath he takes. The picture of nonchalant inertia to the unknowing eye.
Not you, though.
You see the simmering thirst in a man who has been parched for too long, the certainty set in his eyes in search of an oasis—
And something else. An offshoot growing from the root of brackish resentment you can’t quite place.
And maybe, just maybe you worry you’re about to have your heart broken.
Not that you’d ever tell him.
“Fuck you.” You mutter, indignantly, massaging the bridge of your nose in an effort to ease the ache.
With lithe and measured movements, John approaches you. Through your peripherals you watch his feet get closer and closer with every step, until he’s inches away. With a firm-handed pull at your chin, he forces your gaze towards him— that indescribable tincture yet staining his features.
His head tilts imperceptibly, eyes narrowing in determination while he decides….what?
Whether to fuck you? Whether to leave you be and maintain the suffocating, acetic undercurrent you’ve maintained for an entire year in keeping your hands to yourself?
Whether to—
You stop your deliberations straight in their tracks as his hold on you tightens ever so slightly, his thumb disengaging from the rest to glide across your bottom lip.
Pulsing headache aside, you feel your entire being throb in anticipation.
“John—”
“Hush,” He takes advantage of your parted lips, probing the seam of them a little deeper. “Let a man savour a moment, for fuck’s sake.”
Seconds dissolve into minutes, as you wait with bated breath. Each lungful heavier than the last under the stifling pressure of a singular moment being pulled taut beyond belief.
“Jane, darling?” His voice is a mere whisper.
“Hmm?”
“How badly do you want to be fucked right now?”
A sizzle of defiance erupts deep in your belly. The urge to impugn stings the tip of your tongue when you see it. That look. That look that pummels down any defence you could even hope to construct. It demands sincerity, even when you can barely muster it on a good day let alone hungover and painfully aroused.
So, in the place of a rejoinder that would leave you both sexually frustrated and teetering the edge of combustion, you say the truth.
“So fucking badly, John. For months. Possibly from the moment we met.”
What hits you in that moment is disconcerting mixture of emotions: part relief at the unburdening of long-held truths, part self-consciousness at the ease in which just you’ve confessed them.
The latter dissolves almost immediately when you watch the resulting smile that etches itself across his face. A smile that screams pride. Absolution. The kind you’d find on a man who finally reached the peak of his dreams.
You were his Everest. Finally conquered.
“That’s my girl.”
His words leave you breathless. It’s not the first time he’s called you his, so it isn’t the novelty of the statement that floors you. It’s the fact that for the first time in a year, you recognize it to be true.
You’re his — been his for some time now.
The epiphany goes to your head like strong drink — and right on the heels of your previous state of inebriety, it’s all too much to take.
“Fuck, John. Just—” Whatever you might’ve said next is devoured by him in an abrubt dive to kiss you. It’s fervent and messy, all tongue and teeth leaving the viscid traces of saliva across your lips, jaw, and neck.
It’s an unremitting onslaught of his lips and hands — him touching you, tasting you at a pace you couldn’t dream of outrunning. Sometime in the midst of it, he’s managed to strip you both down without missing a beat. I’ll take care of it, my darling, he’d said when you protested to the number of layers that still lay between the two of you.
That was the thing about John. He’d not let a single demand of yours go unsatisfied. A depraved part of you wondered how far you could draw it out, test his endurance. Find the limit and shame him for it.
Needless to say, you never did.
Not out of decency, a trait of which you were always found deficient. It was only out of the fear of having had something unattainable only to eventually lose it. Fact of the matter is, there would be no limit to what you could ask of him.
Onto to simpler requests, then.
“Fuckin’ need you inside of me.”
His cock fills you up just as you’d expected— stretched to capacity, the head of his cock grazing against your cervix with a couple of inches to spare. You hiss through your teeth, your nails digging into his back to recompense for the building pressure.
“Shit, John. Fu—uck—” You pant, lungs convulsing beneath the strain of his weight pressing down on you, skin meeting skin at every possible junction.
“Should’a let me work you out first, then.” He grunts, lips latching on to the shell of your ear.
He forced an arm between the two of you, his fingers find your clit, drawing gentle circles. A direct juxtaposition to the shallow quick paced thrusts, while his other arm snakes around to border the crown of your skull. A preemptive measure for a good and thorough fucking.
Eventually the burn at the rim of your cunt subsides and you take more of him than you could’ve ever imagined. Right to the hilt. He draws back out, just halfway and looks, as if to admire his handiwork before slamming back in with a reverberant so fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ good or some variation of the praise over and over.
A year’s worth of raked up want comes cresting over this one night— he fucks you once more with the privilege of leisure the second time around. When you’re fucked out, slack-jawed with a raw cunt dripping cum, he croons with self-satisfaction and promises you’ll take him again.
You do, naturally. Drunk on the smell of sex which weighs down the air in the room, obedience comes easy.
He’s gentler this time, softer in the way he touches you. Fingers raking over flushed, sweaty skin. His tongue gliding over every inch of you, twice over, like he means to really savour it. Catalogue what every part of you tastes like should this be the only chance he gets. He fucks you slow and deep, a litany of indebtedness perpetuating every movement.
There are things about him you commit to memory, as well. The lingering taste of his last cigar that glides across your tongue when he kisses you. The flickering pulse in his brow when he’s close. The weight of his cock sheathed within you, the sting that comes with it.
When the haze of prolonged unfed lust unfurls with a yawn of satiety, you find all that remains is a sense of premonition.
Of a tragic and bitter end.
#john price x reader#John price#john price smut#john price fic#TECHNICALLY I could end it with this but how rude would that be??
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I know i rarely post anything i make like for uni or whatever but! I have like 50 of these so if you want one you can dm me or whatever!
[ID: a photo of the cover of the magazine i made about Karl Heinrich Ulrichs END ID]
Karl Heinrich Ulrichs was a pioneer of queer activism, using her position as a lawyer to fight for the legal rights of all queer people in Germany with a focus on people who were perceived as men at the time and marginalized for their attraction to people of their same sex.
[ID: a photo of pages 18 and 19 of the magazine. The painting "The birth of Venus" is behind a text that's hard to read on the photo about her activism and coining of terms END ID]
She was also someone who would in today's terms probably identify as transgender and did not only limit herself to legal advocacy but tried addressing the social prejudices of her time, becoming one of the first sexologists and doing sociological research on the identities of her contemporary queer comrades who wrote to her about their experiences of identity, gender and attraction.
[ID: pages 26 and 27, the title is Novum, there's a colored picture of a post card made in promotion of the 1903 movie "Now that takes the cake" showing two black performers dancing, one is in drag. On the other side a big quote that reads: they say, the soul's gender is not tied to that of the body END]
At the end she was banished, first to Munich (a grave punishment I can only imagine;) and later to Italy for her advocacy where she bred rare butterflies and wrote fairy tales and poems about being queer and missing home.
[ID: pages 44 and 45, they show one of her stories (Sulitelma) layered over the painting of the fall of Icarus which is probably by Pieter Bruegel the Elder END]
Her ideas were sometimes surprisingly modern and sometimes of their time in ways that I personally as a non historian didn't expect. In this magazine I put the biography Magnus Hirschfeld wrote about her, a modem perspective, her own sociological works with commentary and an example of her fictional work to give a bit of an impression of who she was, the world she lived in and what she did about it. 💘
For those of you who can't see the images, the magazine is in German and flatly printed, not in braille, but i can certainly send you the plain text if you want it or make a recording of passages that interest you if that's easier for accessibility (tho recording will take me a bit).
If you speak/read German and would like a copy, I can always send the PDF for free or you can DM and I can send a copy for 8€ (no shipping costs unless I find out shipping costs more than 8€ which i don't think). I promise they're cute I put a lot of work into them.
#queer history#German#Karl Heinrich Ulrichs#trans#trans History#queer positivity#i put the price at 8€ so any shipping is included without it being expensive#I'm certainly not gonna make any money off of that believe me they would have to be way more expensive for that I'll maybe make the money#i spent back if i sell like 40 of them. probably 45 depending on shipping cost. which i won't. so. u know. this is me offering for you to#give them to you for the lowest price i can possibly set without feeling like I'm being cheap and devaluing my work#the most money i stand to gain from this is 80€ and let me tell u i spent way longer on it than 8h
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Phototaxis
Author: @kiranatrix
For: @baranedizille
Pairings/Characters: Light Yagami, L Lawliet, Ryuk, Sayu Yagami, Sachiko Yagami, Socihiro Yagami // Lawlight if you squint, or not
Rating/Warnings: Gen // no warnings
Prompt: To-Oh timeline. L visits the Yagamis to work on a project with Light, L has a dinner with Light’s family and it’s awkward. And ofc, Ryuk is also there commenting the situation.
Author’s notes: I hope you enjoy the story! This occurs on the evening of April 11 while Light and L are both at To-Oh. Soichiro has been resting at home following his heart attack on April 7 (the day of Light and L’s tennis match). The Japanese legend mentioned in the fic (The Fire Quest) is a real one. Sayu gets it mostly correct, but the traditional version in English is here: https://www.worldoftales.com/Asian_folktales/Japanese_folktale_49.html.
—–
Hideki Ryuga– L –was coming over tonight and Light hardly knew how to handle it. L, with his too-long fingers and his too-intense stare, his perfectly enunciated Japanese and teeth unrealistically white for an all-sugar diet, was coming to Light’s house for dinner and, purportedly, to study.
It was a lie, but that was their preferred currency when shifting closer. Stepping together to a stage, a classroom, a tennis court, a cafe– each time the way was paved with lies, petals they threw at the other’s feet and pretended not to notice. It made getting to the destination sweeter when the end was had only ever been death for one or the other. And still, they couldn’t stop. Light was so glad L hadn’t stopped.
L would be arriving any moment but Light couldn’t help but take out his Death Note from its hiding place, just to touch the pebbly leather of his ace in this game. The Death Note was no proper diary but the handwriting in it betrayed plenty about the emotional state and thoughts of its owner these past months. There was the first casually-scrawled name, jotted off like the joke Light believed it to be. Kurou Otoharada. A long, jagged pen mark bled across the rest of the page, a horizon of surprise when that first death dawned. The next name had been carefully written several times with the spelling slightly shifted, the last instances hurried and impatient. There was an exclamation point by the third experiment, exactly 40 seconds from when he’d inked the right combination. Takuo Shibuimaru. It had probably been added in shock, but Light chose to remember a different reason. I got it right, I won.
The names filling the following pages were unremarkable except that they looked exactly like the handwriting on Light’s homework. Studious, easy, and correct without the requirement of much thought. This was a different kind of work, performed as professionally as an accountant. A roster of the worst murderers of the world, the lowest hanging fruit, and Light plucked them nightly when he wasn’t sure how many more nights he’d have. Surely there had to be some price for what he was doing? Aren’t you going to take my soul? Ryuk laughed at him, was impressed by him, and that was a good sign for a shinigami; he would take something but not for a while.
It wasn’t until about ten pages in that things got telling again. A name written diagonally, frantically, and taking up nearly an entire page– Lind L. Tailor. Light’s adrenaline and fury and glee stained the paper as much as the ink had, from a pen that he didn’t use often and had grabbed as quickly as possible during L’s broadcast. Everything about this name was different, just as L was different from all those who had come before. This name was the hook that pulled Kira out of the shadows and thrust L into the light, a breadcrumb for both of them to devour and hunger for more.
This elaborate name was immediately replaced in Light’s mind by a single stark gothic letter, so much so that even when he looked back on that day, he didn’t recall a suited nobody slumped over a desk and dragged away on-camera. He only recalled ‘come find me, come find me, kill me if you can.’ Light was so accustomed to everything and everyone being boring and easy, to nothing getting to him. L’s challenge had wormed into his mind and he felt alive for the first time in his life.
Perhaps the smart thing to do would have been to go silent a while, wait it out until the heat died down and he could find out more about L and his methods. Light had tipped his hand a little but not enough to give the game away, only to set it in motion. Yes, he probably should have played it safe. But he couldn’t stop and he couldn’t help but taunt L further, just to keep chasing that new and intensifying feeling of being alive. The danger was part of their dance, and Light wanted to play with L for as long as possible before Kira killed him.
Lind L. Tailor. The ‘L’ had been darkly underlined, reminding Light of the dark half-moons shadowing the eyes of the real man when Light finally met him. The slant of Light’s scrawl, like the hunch of L’s back. The letter ugly and infuriating and fascinating and shouting at him from the page, drawing his finger to trace over it…
Light pulled his finger back like he’d been burned when he heard his mother calling up to him, heartbeat thudding as he bit his lip and grinned. He quickly snapped his Death Note shut and carefully placed it back in his rigged desk drawer. He’s here.
“Light! Sayu!” Sachiko leaned to call up the stairs from where she was washing her hands in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on their meal. “Would one of you get the door, please?”
She gave Soichiro a stern look as he shifted on the couch. “Not you, Soichi. If you insist on going back to work tomorrow I want you resting tonight.” Her husband had only come home from the hospital a few days ago after his stress-related heart attack and she was anxious about letting him go right back.
“Coming!” Light bustled out of his bedroom as the doorbell chimed again, nearly barreling into Sayu. “Whoa!” He gripped her shoulders to steady himself, smiling and flustered. “Don’t worry about it, Sayu. I’ll get it.”
“Oooo, who’s coming over tonight?” Sayu grinned up at her brother, noticing a rare faint blush on his cheeks. “You look so nervous! Is it a girlfriend?”
Ryuk floated through Light’s bedroom wall, chuckling at the insinuation. “Pfft, not exactly.” It hadn’t escaped Ryuk’s notice that Light had taken even more care than usual with his appearance tonight and that he’d been mulling over the Death Note in a rather odd way. “Ya do look a little flushed, though. Hyuk hyuk…”
“No.” Light rolled his eyes as he made his way downstairs, ignoring both his sister and the shinigami. Do I really look nervous? He smoothed his features and said, “It’s just Hideki Ryuga from Ecology class. We have a project to work on tonight.” His father was the only other person who knew who Ryuga really was. L, the infuriating detective spying on him at To-Oh. Ryuk knew even more than that; namely, that Light was the very person L was looking for, but a shinigami was the best secret-keeper.
“HIDEKI RYUGA?! Light! THE Hideki Ryuga?!” Sayu bounded down the stairs excitedly after Light, squealing with delight and clutching her hands over her heart. “I want to meet him, too! I’m his biggest fan! I know a lot about ecology and maybe I can help you–”
“Shhh! Sayu, please.” Light shot Sayu a good-natured warning look as he opened the door then forced himself to smile cordially at L. “Hi, Ryuga.” He heard a soft noise of disappointment from Sayu as well as peals of shinigami laughter. It would have been Light’s reaction if the movie star had actually been there instead of his rival.
“Hello, Light-kun. Good to see you again.” L was wearing his usual attire, a white long-sleeved shirt and baggy jeans, and he had a backpack slung over one hunched shoulder. He’d made a half-hearted attempt to brush his hair tonight, but the effort had been rewarded with a fluffy black halo that was even more wild-looking than his usual spikey bed-head.
“I see you managed to find the house.” There was a faint note of sarcasm in Light’s voice. As if L hadn’t gathered all the information he could about Light, illegally, invasively, or otherwise.
A small, wry smile tugged at L’s lips and he answered, deadpan, “Yes, seeing that I am here, I apparently managed just fine. Are you impressed?”
“Incredibly. Please come in.” Smartass. Light held the door open for L to enter and gestured to Sayu just behind him. “This is my sister, Sayu.”
Sayu had been peeking around Light, eyes wide with curiosity about the odd-looking person who was most definitely not the idol she’d been hoping for. She’d met lots of Light’s friends over the years but no one quite like this. “Wow…I’ve never seen anyone’s hair do that before. Where are you from? Are you older than Light? How does-”
“Sayu!” Sachiko rubbed her hands on her apron and sighed in fond exasperation. “Hideki-san, please forgive my child’s rudeness. She’s just excited to meet Light’s best friend at school.”
Best friend? L’s eyes cut to Light, who immediately looked away. It amused L to hear their lies mirrored by other people.
Sachiko bowed politely and gave him a warm smile. “You are very welcome in our home. I’ll be serving dinner in a few moments.” She arched a brow at Sayu, “Please go set the table, Sayu.”
L gladly toed out of his worn sneakers, padding along barefoot behind Light through the foyer and into the living room. “Your home is very cozy, Light-kun.”
Ryuk snorted, “Like he hasn’t already seen every inch of it on camera.”
Exactly. Light clenched his hand in his pocket but didn’t let his expression falter. “Dad, Hideki Ryuga is here for dinner. We have a project to work on tonight.”
Soichiro looked up from the newspaper he’d been reading on the couch and gave L a polite nod. “Forgive me for not getting up, Hideki-san, I’ve been confined to the couch until dinner on my wife’s orders.” It was slightly uncomfortable to have L here in his home given that he knew his son was under some suspicion. Soichiro dismissed those suspicions out of hand, but he dreaded that L might turn his searchlights on Light during family dinner.
“Please call me Ryuga.” L gave Light a crooked grin. “That’s what my friends call me.”
Sayu skipped into the living room with a fist full of chopsticks. “Mom says you can go ahead and sit down. It’s yakisoba tonight!” She grabbed the guest’s arm and dragged him over to the table. “You can sit beside Light, Ryuga.”
L blushed faintly but let himself be pulled along. “Ah…alright.” It was strange to realize that he’d never had a ‘real’ family dinner inside someone’s home before. Of course, he’d never had a family or friends, so perhaps not so surprising. He dropped his backpack to the floor and climbed into the seat beside Light, crouching as he usually did.
Light and Soichiro didn’t bat an eye at that but Sayu couldn’t help but gape at him. “Isn’t that an uncomfortable way to sit? My legs would fall asleep!”
“Sayu.” Soichiro sat down at the place opposite Light. “Ryuga is our guest, and he’s welcome to sit how he pleases.” He knew from experience that whether L, Ryuzaki, or Ryuga, the peculiar man would do things his own way.
Sachiko came in a moment later with the dishes for dinner, including yakisoba, miso soup, rice, and pickles. “Please help yourselves. We’re not very formal around here, Ryuga.”
Ryuk floated behind Light, one clawed hand curled around the back of the human’s chair. “Dunno why you humans go to so much trouble when ya could just have apples.”
“Hmm.” L peered at the various options, one finger perched on his lip. “I’ve never had yakisoba before. I admit I don’t eat many noodle dishes.” He’d brought some candy bars and a slice of cake in his backpack in case he didn’t like the food. Wammy had told him to at least wait until he was up in Light’s room studying to eat it, though. Apparently it was rude not to at least try the meal (although he still wasn’t sure if he cared).
“I bet you’d like it.” Light served L some noodles and then put some on his own plate. He whispered to L, “Don’t be difficult. It’s sweet.” He wasn’t about to tell L that he’d suggested yakisoba to his mother tonight for that very reason, or that there were vegetables hiding in it. Why in the hell do I care about pleasing him?
“Hmm.” L tentatively picked up his chopsticks and poked at the noodles, looking between them and Light. “Is it spicy?” It was also becoming clear that he’d never used chopsticks before and they kept slipping from his hand. Why hadn’t he asked Wammy to show him how to use them?
“No, it’s not–here, you’re not holding them right.” Light set his own chopsticks down and took L’s hand, gently molding the fingers into the right position to hold the utensils. He’d done the same thing for Sayu when she was small and learning, so the offer felt automatic. It wasn’t until he looked up and saw L staring at him that he felt self-conscious and pulled away. The gesture had felt too genuine and that made it suspicious. “Well, that’s how to do it. I know you’re a quick learner and will pick it up.”
L looked down and murmured, “Was that a pun, Light-kun?” He concentrated and managed to pinch a bite of yakisoba, quickly shoveling it into his mouth before it fell off. “…mmm!” He didn’t bother to completely swallow the mouthful before saying, “It is sweet. And quite good.” He picked up another bite with slightly more dexterity. “I like it.” Perhaps the cake in his bag could just be for dessert.
Light smiled across the table. “It really is good, Mom, thank you.”
“Oh, you’re always welcome.” Sachiko beamed happily as L quickly devoured his noodles and took another helping.
Soichiro relaxed a little, seeing as things were going more smoothly than he’d expected. “So, boys, what is your project about?”
“It’s for Ecology. We have to collect an insect and bring it to class tomorrow since the lecture is on local entomology.” Light took a sip of tea to hide his amused smile; L was handling the chopsticks perfectly now. Of course he’d be good at that, too.
“Eww.” Ryuk scrunched up his nose, he didn’t much like bugs and creepy-crawly things. “Hope it won’t be flappin’ in a box all night cause that would creep me out.”
“Not just on local entomology, Light-kun.” L chewed a few times, loudly, and swallowed his mouthful. “It’s also on insect phototaxis.”
Sayu, tilted her head and asked, “What’s that?”
L suddenly wished he hadn’t spoken up at all. “Well….” He looked down at his meal, stabbing at the noodles. “…an attraction to light. Some insects, like moths, use the moon to navigate and become confused by artificial light. That’s why they flap around outdoor lightbulbs at night.”
“Oh! Like the Fire Quest!” Sayu nodded sagely. “I know all about that.” When Ryuga just looked at her blankly, she added, “You haven’t heard that story? It’s a famous Japanese legend!”
Soichiro sighed, “I’m sure Ryuga doesn’t–”
“I have not heard it.” L set his chopsticks down and leaned forward in his crouch, hands on his knees as he stared at Sayu. “Please tell me the legend.”
“Sure! See, Light, I told you I could help with your project.”
Light grinned and laughed softly. “Just tell the story, Sayu.” Japanese folktales weren’t going to help them but he was happy to indulge his little sister.
“I’m getting to it!” Sayu sat up straight in her chair, trying to look and sound more official. “There was a queen of the fireflies who lived in a lotus blossom in the middle of a peaceful pond. She was so beautiful that all the moths, dragonflies, and other bugs who lived around the pond were constantly bothering her, begging to marry her. But she didn’t want any of them so it was very annoying.”
L nodded seriously. “Yes, I can see why that would present a problem. Did she tell them all to go away?”
“Oh, she tried! But they wouldn’t listen and there got to be so many bugs on her lotus blossom she was afraid it was going to sink. Completely messing up the whole peaceful pond aesthetic.”
Light snickered and dropped his chin into his hand, smiling at Sayu. “I don’t remember that little detail from the story.”
“Shhh!” Sayu stuck out her tongue at Light and continued. “Anyway, she thought up a way to get rid of them all. She told them that since she was a firefly, she could only marry the bug that brought fire back to her. Whatever bug did that was worthy to be with her forever.”
L gave her a lop-sided smile. “I can’t imagine that turned out well for the insect suitors.”
“Nope! But they couldn’t help themselves. They fluttered and flew around candles, torches, bonfires, all trying to catch the fire that the queen had told them to find but every one of them burned up instead. Nobody completed the Fire Quest and the firefly queen and her pond were left in peace.” Sayu smiled proudly. “The end.”
Ryuk had been hanging on Sayu’s every word, half-sitting on the table. “Hahaha! What a great queen!” He hadn’t been aware that fireflies were so sneaky but there was still a lot about the human world he didn’t know. “Now I wanna see a firefly!”
Light hummed thoughtfully, recalling the legend from his own childhood. Sayu had embellished a bit but it was mostly accurate. “Serves the suitors right, I suppose. They should have listened when the queen told them to go away.”
“The queen sent them on a quest she knew would result in their deaths.” L turned to look at Light, a small smirk on his lips. “Their annoyance hardly necessitates murder, Light-kun.”
“Murder?” Light laughed in a charming way but there was shrewd interest in his eyes. “She didn’t tell them to burn themselves up. They should have known better.” They couldn’t help themselves. Just like we can’t. “Anyway, it’s just a silly legend.”
Soichiro quickly changed the subject.
—-
After dinner, Light showed L up to his bedroom where they could catch an insect from his balcony. His mother had given them a large glass jar and he set it down on his desk, thrilling at having L so close to his secrets. “There’s a bright light on the balcony but it might take a few moments to attract anything.” He switched on the light, dimming the desk lamp so they could see outside better. He leaned against the glass door, watching L mentally cataloging the contents of his room. “I was surprised when you asked me to help you with this project, Ryuga. It’s not very difficult to catch your own bug.” I know you just wanted to see my room for yourself.
“I have never done it before.” L crouched in Light’s desk chair, opening up his backpack and taking out the slice of cake he’d stowed inside. Tonight had been full of firsts for him– chopsticks, yakisoba, legends, bugs. “I didn’t want to kill it since we’re supposed to bring it in alive.” He forked a piece of the strawberry cake, staring at Light while he ate it. Mouth full, he grinned and said, “Think we’ll catch a firefly?”
Light laughed softly and shook his head. “Not really the right time of year for them. They come out in the summer.” He gazed out the glass door, noticing a few flies and mosquitos starting to circle around the caged bulb. “Sometimes we see them in our backyard. Sayu and I would catch them when we were kids.”
“Pity. After hearing your sister’s story, I wanted to see one.” L ate the last bite of cake, placing the empty plastic box in Light’s trashcan (after glancing to see what else was in there).
Light asked over his shoulder quietly, “Don’t they have fireflies in England?”
L smiled slyly, getting up to stand beside Light at the glass door. He recognized the bait and only gave the line a tug. “They do, but doesn’t mean I was there to see them.” In truth, he’d been too wrapped up in his cases to venture outside much as a child. Such single-minded focus had benefitted him in some ways and set him apart from a normal childhood in others. “Perhaps Light-kun will invite me back in the summertime.”
“Of course, Ryuga.” Light smiled at him, catching his reflection in the glass. How long would their game go on? Into the summer, the fall? What season would see it end?
“Look.” L tapped the glass just over Light’s reflection, but what he was pointing to was on the other side. A large green-winged luna moth had landed on the cage surrounding the light bulb and was lazily flapping its wings and warming itself. “The first suitor has arrived.”
“Still haven’t learned the ‘murderous’ queen’s lesson.” Light laughed and grabbed the jar off his desk. “Lucky for them we have electric lights and not fire.” He unscrewed the top and handed the jar to L. “Cmon, you do it.”
L looked down at the jar as if it were Kira’s power instead just an old pickle jar. “The jar is too small.” He shifted to the other foot. “I’ll crush it.”
“No, I think it’s plenty big. We can put it in a shoebox after we catch it, anyway.” Light smirked at him. “You’re just making excuses. Or maybe you really can’t do it?” He knew L wouldn’t turn down a direct challenge.
“Alright.” L sighed and took the jar, frowning as he plotted his approach. Sliding the door open carefully so not to startle it, he crept forward very slowly until he was right beside it. Turning back to Light, he whispered, “Now what?”
“Just scoop it up in the jar. Try not to touch its wings, though.” Light watched as L brought the jar up to the luna moth, delicately prodding to encourage it to go into the jar by itself. Amazingly, it worked, and the moth calmly settled into the bottom of the jar.
“Light-kun!” L hurried back inside Light’s room, smiling broadly down at his captive. It looked like a miniature angel with its gracefully tapered wings and fluffy golden antennae. “It was easy after all.”
“Everything’s easy for you, isn’t it?” I know the feeling. Light screwed the top onto the jar, poking generous air holes in the lid with a pair of scissors. He held it up for both of them to see, L leaning in closely, chewing his thumb at the undamaged and placid moth. “It’s a nice catch, too. I bet no one else will bring in anything this big.”
L didn’t answer him for a long moment, just stared at the moth and the slow up-down, up-down of its wings. “What do you think would have happened if one of the suitors brought fire back?”
Light blinked. “Huh?”
“In Sayu’s legend. What might have happened if one of the suitors completed the Fire Quest and brought back fire to the queen?”
“I…I don’t know. I guess she would have burned up too if one managed to make it back to her. Would have been suicide.” Light gave L a puzzled look. “That’s impossible though. It never would have made it.”
“It might have.” L took the jar, setting it on Light’s desk and turning his full attention to his human specimen again. His hand fluttered from his mouth in a parody of a moth or a name written diagonally, frantically, and taking up nearly an entire page. “If he was a firefly, too.”
Light’s gaze followed L’s hand, those too-thin fingers that had gently ushered the moth to its prison. “So he would trick the queen and allow all the other suitors to get burned up instead of warning them?” He laughed a rare, genuine laugh. “Wouldn’t that make him as bad of a terrible, unfeeling ‘murderer’ as the queen?”
“It’s just a silly legend, Light-kun.” L stuck his hands in his pockets, giving Light a cryptic smile. “But he’d win, wouldn’t he?”
#fanfiction#submission#death note#Light Yagami#soichiro yagami#Sayu Yagami#Sachiko Yagami#l lawliet#l#lawlight#kiranatrix#baranedizille#Mello's Birthday Mayhem 2020
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Tips to Reduce Spending
I’ve never had a problem with my monthly budget, mainly because it doesn’t exist. I naturally spend less than I make, therefore there’s always some money for the bills and rarely some time spent managing my money. It’s not a good situation to be in, it’s not the worse by any means, but if you want to build your savings and retire earlier you need to be deliberate with your spending and savings choices.
This is traditionally done with a budget. Now I’m not going to lie, I’m terrible at budgets. I can create them no problem, but remembering to actually follow them? Good luck.
1. The first step to create a budget is to document your expenses. If you don’t know how much you tend to spend then it will be very difficult to create an effective budget. If most of your transactions are on debit and credit cards, then you can go back through previous months to track your spending. Or you can start tracking today so you have a better idea in the future.
2. Once you have a good idea of how much money you tend to spend on various categories you can start building the budget itself. (Don’t forget about annual or semi-annual expenses like car insurance). Make sure you are aware of the differences between needs and wants when you are budgeting.
3. Once you have a budget you aren’t done, you should continue to track your expenses and adjust the budget as needed.
So, now you have a budget. How does that translate to actually spending less money? Here are some behavioral tips to help spend less money:
· Now that you know about how much you spend on things start paying for them in cash. When you go to a grocery store with a $100 bill (or a $100 gift card) you are forced to spend less than that $100. You can’t go over, but if you had a debit card a $112 bill would approve even though it was $12 over your budget.
· Change your daily habits to avoid temptation. Does your route to or from home pass by a fast-food restaurant that you just love? Did you just notice that you actually spend $50 a month there on coffee and French fries? Try taking a side street so you never see the sign. Do you habitually order delivery through your handy-dandy phone? Try deleting the apps, not seeing them on the phone can reduce temptation and the extra step of needing to redownload every time can slow you down when you’re thinking about ordering. Even if you don’t want to delete the app you can hide in somewhere in the back folders of your phone so you don’t see the icon and thing huh, think imma get myself some pizza.
· If there’s a consistent ‘treat’ you like to get, think about low-cost alternatives. For example, I love pizza. Like, it’s not healthy, neither is my solution but we’re talking about money not fitness. I will often keep some tortilla shells, a cheese blend, and a bag of pepperonis on site. Then if I’m craving pizza, I can make myself a 400 calories pizza roll that costs less than 50 cents instead of spending the minimum of $10 (to deliver) which usually ends up being a $12 order which also has a delivery charge, tax, and tip and becomes something closer to $20 for a single craving?
· Consider how your spending habits change when you’re emotional, are you more likely to buy yourself a treat and how much does that treat cost a month? Make the decision before-hand to redirect emotional buying to other positive behaviors instead. Things like working out, calling a friend, drawing a doodle of whoever pissed you off then burning it in the sink, or meditating. Whatever you do, don’t open up Amazon.
· Ask yourself if you need something or want something before you buy it. Do you need those new shoes? Or do you want them? Taking the time to add one more mental step before actually spending the money can help reduce impulse purchases. My No Spend Year | Michelle McGagh | TEDxManchester is a great TED Talk on this topic.
· Forget trends. Don’t even bother trying to keep up with all the newest fads. And if a fad looks really cool? Take a step back and ask yourself if you really think that this new item is actually useful and will add joy to your life, or if you just think it is because of herd mentality.
· Don’t go into debt to buy things. This mainly applies to credit-card debt and doesn’t really apply to houses (especially if you plan on getting a duplex and renting out of it). If there’s something that’s really cool, it will still be really cool when you have the money saved up to buy it in cash. It might even be really cool and cheaper if a new model comes out in the meantime.
Pay down your debts. This is less advice to reduce immediate spending and more advice to avoid future spending on interest payments. There are two main schools of thought when it comes to paying down debt:
1. Start with the high interest debt. This makes the most logical sense as high-interest debt will end up costing you more in the long run.
2. Start with the lowest balance, regardless of debt: This makes the most emotional sense. People are human, and they like to see progress on their goals. The feeling of success when you pay off a debt completely can help spur you on to tackle the next debt.
Starting with the high interest debt is my preference. I want to save every penny possible, and that’s the way to do it. But if you know that you may have difficulty sticking to a plan, or if you want the satisfaction of paying off your debt then the second option is a fine one to take.
Changing your behavior and paying down debt are some of the harder steps to take when trying to spend less money overall. Here are some simpler, practical, pieces of advice:
· Buy in bulk. When you go grocery shopping do some meal planning first and buy in bulk. If you have a larger family then stores like Costco or Sam’s Club can be very useful to get some discounted prices. However, if you’re like me and live in a very small household then buying some items in bulk at a local cheap grocery store can be just as effective without cluttering up limited storage space.
· Explore secondhand shops for new appliances, clothes, furniture, etc. Online marketplaces like Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace can be great places to get good deals. There’s no need to spend $50 on a waffle iron when the Youth Ranch down the street or Bob around the corner is selling one for $5.
· Price-shop. Amazon won’t always have the cheapest prices, and while convenience is nice they aren’t the only home delivery store. Shop around to see where you can get the best price for your purchases.
· Don’t buy as much stuff, borrow it if you can. If anyone knows me then know how much I love books. I used to have multiple bookcase that I would move about once a year when I switched apartments. Over time I forced myself to give away or sell most of them, and now check the local library for my next read. And by now I mean pre-COVID-19. But post Covid I’m sure I’ll be back at it!
· Look for long lasting, high-quality versions of products. A nice pair of shoes can last you five years or more in my experience. If you can, save up for the longer lasting versions so you don’t have to replace them as often.
· Reduce any monthly bills that you can. If you consistently have rollover data that may mean that you should pay less for less data. If you’re going to the gym just to use the treadmill, consider walking around the block a few times instead. Decide if you really need all those streaming services that you pay for.
· Adjust the thermostat, especially if your home isn’t especially energy efficient. Keep the apartment a little colder in the winter and a little warmer in the summer for power savings.
Finally, this is all well and good. But how do you actually follow through? The best person to answer this is yourself, but here are a few options:
1. Get an accountability partner. You can go through each other’s finances to make sure you are hitting your goals. Having an extra set of eyes can be incredibly useful to not only spot places where expenses can be curbed, but to make sure that what’s on paper matches what you wanted there to be.
2. Pay for everything in cash. This is reminiscent of Dave Ramsey’s cash budget. But if you have an envelope of cash labeled food, and that’s all the fast food and grocery money you have for the month it will be difficult to go over the limit. There’s also something more visceral in giving up cash as opposed to sliding a card that may make you think twice about going through with your purchase.
3. Feel broke to be rich. Try opening a second bank account for your paycheck and bills, then set up a recurring transfer to your main checking account. If you never see the bulk of your money, and if your bank balance looks low every time you open the app to check it may be easier to avoid spending money. This isn’t a mindset that everyone wants to be in, but I’ve found that constantly feeling broke means I am far less likely to spend money on frivolities.
If you have more ideas on how to save money on a daily basis leave a comment below!
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Shara - The New Latexdoll
IMPORTANTE NOTE: Everything that appears here, in this story, only exists in my mind, anything that resembles reality is coincidence or fortuitous. . . ( hopefully there will be many of these 🤩, or not, who knows 😭 )
Damn! Where is the Zipper? - Movimento 1
( My gratitude to KunKlo , for his great job of correcting my English and expressions. )
Part 1
On an ordinary Friday afternoon, Shara, a clerk working as a secretary in an advertising company, was strolling around looking at the shop windows of the stores in the commercial district. Like every last Friday of the month, she had put on comfortable clothes that were easy to take off, so that she could easily give in to the temptation to try on a new dress or some other garment and maybe buy it. But what was typical of this day after getting her paycheck, was that today she was going to treat herself to a new pair of high heels.
She was addicted to heels, she had renovated her house to make a dressing room in which half of the space was just for her shoes. And she had her shoes sorted by day of the week, by heel height, by whether she wanted to be more or less comfortable. She had set aside a special place for her most expensive shoes and also her favourites for creating an impression. From that dressing room, without any friend or acquaintance of hers knowing, she had made a few videos for YouTube that she knew would appeal to lovers of heels and fetish fashion. Always avoiding showing her face or any detail that would make someone recognize her.
Today was one of those days when she hoped to be able to buy some shoes that were not run of the mill, that were extravagant, impossible looking, with which she would surely get more followers and thereby improve her earnings. And if she could also find some clothes to impress, so much the better. She even looked in costume shops for porcelain Venetian type masks, not minding if they were made of plastic. If she could further cajole her followers by letting herself be seen completely and still maintaining her anonymity, that would be great.
She wandered the streets of the shopping district, looking into the windows, hoping to see something that would catch her eye. Shara today was also hoping to find something nice to wear this weekend, to get really sexy and seduce again someone she already had in mind. For a moment while she was looking at a lingerie shop, she remembered how that person was running his hands over her skin. Those manly, strong hands, that knew so very well how to excite her body.
Shara walked down several streets, perusing all the shops for possible purchases. She had made a mental note of some of the clothes she had seen and which shops they were in. With the clothes she had some choices, but for now, she couldn't find what she had truly come for. After going into five shoe stores, she couldn't find a pair of shoes that were out of the ordinary. There were sandals of all kinds, shoes of all shapes, heels of all sizes. There were several models, that if you could combine them and create a single pair. . . she would have something worthy to use in her videos. But so, Shara was forced to keep looking, getting a little frustrated.
As she was about to return home, a shop caught her eye. She had never noticed that narrow alleyway in the cyberpunk clothing shopping district, where each shop was more outlandish than the last. If it weren't for the neon lights on the sign, “Your Sin”, she wouldn't have noticed that shop at all. It wasn't the first time she'd been in a sex shop, but it wasn't something she was in the habit of doing. At the moment she was entering, another client was coming out and he gave her a tremendous fright. He was the typical person who didn't care about the opinions of others, dressed in leather clothes, with his chest covered by a torn fishnet t-shirt and, for a man, made up too much, like. . . whatever urban movement he belonged to.
Shara stood watching the man leave, when the shop owner greeted her and invited her in. With some embarrassment she looked back and forth, in case there was another customer, but apart from the shop owner, there was no one else in the store. She took a deep breath and relaxed, and began to feel more comfortable knowing she was on her own. It wasn't her first time in a sex shop, but she didn't feel comfortable buying intimate things in person, preferring the internet. She always felt uncomfortable, when she felt someone's gaze upon her, thinking she knew what they were thinking about her when they bought something. For this reason, she never showed her face in the videos.
Now more relaxed, she began to look at the products on display, and the first thing that caught her eye, was a complicated corset, underbust, with a strap connecting to a collar that was the same shape as the corset. On the collar it said in dark gold letters "Sex Toy". Shara was impressed by the outfit upon closer inspection. Both the corset part and the necklace part had the same design, except for the detail that the neck corset had that characteristic witch's necklace design. Not very high, but high enough to cover the head from behind and limit the view from the sides. It looked like something out of a bad eighties epic-erotic fantasy witch movie, but with a careful and elegant design.
"With that you could charm any man right under your heels." - Shara suddenly heard behind her.
The young woman who was attending the shop, after seeing Shara, noticed right away that she was not a regular shopper in these types of establishments. So she had said that phrase to her, to get her mind focused on something that wasn't so embarrassing, and it seemed to work. Shara relaxed a little more and didn't look around herself so much. She noticed the amazing, shiny, pale pink latex Cheongsam dress with black lotus floral embroidery that the shopkeeper was wearing. She was also wearing a corset-like belt, much like the one Shara had been looking at, but without a collar. The whole outfit was very provocative, giving her a sensual and chic figure.
"Hi. I just wanted to introduce myself, honey. I am called Beky. I can see you're more of an online shopper, so I think I'll leave you a little bit to your own devices to familiarize yourself with the store." - said the shop owner, trying not to scare her.
"Look, down this aisle you'll find some cute outfits, toys are over there, leather clothes here and accessories and bondage items over there. High heels and stripper shoes are here and at the end of that aisle, you can find the most fetish like and the craziest shoes. Let me know when you find something that interests you." - Beky said, pointing down several aisles.
That last bit of information made Shara forget what she was currently looking at. She said thank you and went straight for the shoes. Her inner slutty self had always wanted a pair of stripper shoes to surprise a visitor. She already had more or less a picture in her mind of what she wanted. But when she reached the shoe rack she was overwhelmed by the sheer variety of rare shoes and boots on display. They were mostly available in black, white, red and transparent. The lowest heel was three inches and no platform. There were shoes with thin heels, wide heels, shaped figures, pony-boots and some that immediately caught her attention, the ballet-heels.
They were shaped like ballet shoes, but made of patent leather, on the instep there was a transparent sheet and two straps that crossed in "x" form , another one with a buckle that crossed the instep, and then a much wider strap on the ankle, whose closure had two small rings, to lock it with a small padlock.
"I love them." - she said to herself, marveling at the design and at the same time she was so excited to have found what she was looking for.
Shara had heard of them, and also, she had read comments coming from some of her fans. But until now she had had no interest, mostly because the ones she had seen as an example in a link, sent by one of her followers, was a rather horrendous design. But that pair was anything but hideous, she examined the shoe more closely and there was no doubt that whoever wore that pair of shoes would have to tiptoe like a ballet dancer. That shoe had caught her attention, they were perfect, with an elegant finish, just what she was looking for and she had to have them.
She picked them up and looked for the size of the shoe, and when she looked at the label, it wasn't her size. But then she saw something that further crushed her plan. To her big disappointment, right next to the size of the shoe, was the price of that shoe. It was totally out of her reach. With some annoyance she looked at the rest of the ballet-heels there. And she found some pink booties, vintage design. Shara took a closer look at the boot and the price seemed more reasonable than the shoe.
"It's not as pretty as the other one. . . but it will do." - She said to herself hoping it would have the effect she was looking for.
With the ballet-heels in hand she walked back to the checkout counter where the owner was taking a call. There was an open box next to her, while she was holding up a flesh-colored, see-through latex suit. As Shara waited for the girl to end the call, she couldn't help but overhear her talking about a "LatexDoll" model latex costume from something called "WomanDoll" that she had received. But only one had been delivered and she had ordered ten.
Shara visually examined the box the clerk had on the table. There were two things that caught her attention, right at the bottom of the box it said: "Designed to attract attention and not let anyone recognize you." Then Shara's gaze went to the top of the box, and that slogan captivated her: "Become your own Sex LatexDoll".
to be continued...
tumblr: Shara - The New Latexdoll (Part2) >>
DeviantArt: Shara - The New Latexdoll (part2) >>
Story by Rammaukin
Correction by KunKlo.
If you 😍 it, click on 💗, and we appreciate your comments 👍 , also the criticisms 🤬, although it may and is very likely that, we do not pay attention to them 🧘.
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Kboovo Review – Worth It or a Scam?
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Single’s Day
Summary:
You’re out shopping on Single’s Day and you’re worst fear manifests in the form of your ex-boyfriend Junhui at the register. But... Maybe it isn’t as bad as you imagined.
Author’s Note: in my Korean class my professor started talking about Single’s Day, and the part of me that in no way at all biases Jun was like wow, I should write a Jun fanfic about single’s day so here we are i guess.
You sighed as you loaded your shopping cart with a toaster, eyeing the contents of your cart as you did so. You had a pretty nice haul this year. A toaster, a few shirts, a new pair of sneakers, a blender and a few gifts for your family for the price that you were getting it for was quite the steal.
Still… You hated shopping on singles day.
You began walking towards the cash register, eyeing the products you were passing as you did so.
You hated shopping on Single’s day because it was just another reminder that you were single. Another reminder that you hadn’t had a boyfriend in the last year and that you were nowhere near having another one.
You scoffed to yourself as you got into the line, just staring into your cart. Suddenly you felt like you hadn’t spent enough. You glanced at the candy that lined the waiting line and you scrunched your nose.
Maybe you hadn’t gotten enough candy. You grabbed a few packs of chocolates, knocking them into your cart without a second thought.
You could afford it, you knew that was for sure, and any ounce of your dignity went out the door when you decided to come shopping out on singles day, so there was no point in denying the inevitable. You were pathetic, and unattractive and-
“I can take the next guest.”
You looked up, making eye contact with the cashier, and resisted the urge to drop to the floor and let the next person go to check out before you.
You were so unbelievably screwed.
You hadn’t seen Wen Junhui in over a year, and you couldn’t say that seeing him right now when you were at your lowest was a good thing. Not only were you buying an embarrassing amount of items (now including an unorthodox amount of chocolates) but you were dressed like a slob.
Hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, an oversized sweater and a pair of sweatpants that you were pretty sure actually belonged to Jun and you had just gotten after the breakup.
“Something to remember me by.”
“Yeah, I’m burning these as soon as you are out of my sight.”
You obviously hadn’t burned the pants, but you damn well should have.
“Ma’am, can you please keep the line moving?” The person behind you asked rather bluntly. You jumped back to attention.
“Ah, right, sorry.”
You took a deep breath and then slowly approached Jun’s register, trying not to show how freaked out you were to see him on today of all days but there was no point in that when Jun had always been able to read you like a damn book.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” Jun greeted, his eyes sparkling with glee. You looked away from him, opting to ignore him as he began to ring up your things.
Except that… He didn’t begin to ring up your things. He just stared at you, propping his chin on his register, waiting for you to give him a response.
“Jun I-”
He didn’t wait for you to tell him you didn’t want to have this conversation. He started to ring up your items, a smirk growing over his lips.
“And on Singles day too? What could you possibly be doing out shopping on singles day?”
His scanner beeped and he held up one of your chocolate bars with a raise of his eyebrow.
“Buying… Chocolate?”
“Well-”
“Oh, y/n don’t tell me… You’re still single?”
Despite how it seemed, you and Jun had split up rather amicably.
You two had actually gone quite well together. You both knew one another’s emotions well, you put up with him flirting with other girls and you were able to put up with the sass you got from him and the crazy attitude that he always adopted at the strangest of times.
In the end, you two had just taken a look at your relationship and he had decided he was too comfortable.
You wanted to be mad, but at the time you had known exactly what he meant. Maybe that was the worst part. Knowing that maybe… Just maybe you two were something akin to soulmates, and he just wasn’t ready for that relationship yet.
It had still stung to be alone for the past year though.
You missed Jun, even on days that you wanted to hate him… You couldn’t, you just missed him.
“Jun, can you just ring up my things and save me the embarrassment?” You asked him softly, still afraid to look at him.
“I could,” Jun replied. “But that wouldn’t be very like me, would it?”
You sighed. It wouldn’t.
He took your toaster in hand and rang it up, raising his eyebrows as he did so.
“You’re just now buying a toaster? How did you toast your bread?” He asked incredulously.
“How anyone would,” you replied. “I toast it on the pan.”
“One day you’re going to burn down your apartment making toast,” he mumbled. He hesitated after a second. “Are you… Still in the same apartment?”
You glanced up at him, surprised to find sincere curiosity in his gaze. You swallowed.
“Yeah.”
“Same loud downstairs neighbor?” He asked.
“Nah, he moved out,” you replied gingerly. “There’s a really nice lady who lives there now. She’s always offering to make treats and stuff for me and my boyfriend.”
You chuckled softly.
“And when I mention that I’m single she’s always offering to set me up with her grandson but…”
Jun leaned forward, the beeping stopping.
“But?”
“But… I guess I’m waiting,” you mumbled softly.
The beeping started up again, but it was slower than it had started off. You could feel Jun staring at you, and for once you wondered what was going through his head.
“Hey… Do you ever… Do you ever miss me?” He asked.
You glanced up at him in surprise.
“Wh… What?”
“Do you ever miss us?” Jun asked. He glanced down at your pants. “I mean, my sweats on you say yeah but you haven’t texted me since we broke up.”
He actually sounded a little hurt and honestly, that just made you miss him more.
“You weren’t ready for me,” you stated softly. “So, I didn’t feel like it was right to bother you. You’re probably way better off without me anyways.”
Jun scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“I hate it here. You would’ve told me, the minute I started hating this job that if I hated it so much I should just leave. You would tell me that I could get a better job in my sleep, that I have more potential then anybody in this store.”
You stared at him.
“You encourage me to do things that I never do. Without you I make bad decisions I don’t live up to the potential that you always saw in me…”
He set down the items he was ringing up and reached forward, taking your hand in his without warning.
“I let you go and that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
Your breath hitched in your throat… Surely, he wasn’t saying what you thought he was.
“Take me back… Please. I’ve been hoping every single day since the last time I saw you that I would run into you again,” Jun admitted. “I promise I’ll be a million times better then-”
You interrupted him by hesitantly getting to your tiptoes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. It made a smile grow over his lips when he watched you shyly pull away.
“You’re holding up the line Jun,” you murmured. “After work do you want to… Maybe come over?”
“I’d love to.”
You took your bags, after paying for your items, giving Jun one last wave as you walked out the doors.
Maybe Singles Day wasn’t so bad after all.
#Like#nothing against jun#he's a whole sweetheart#but also he's a gemini#i can't with gemini#AND I KNOW I'M A HYPOCRITE CAUSE I LOVE SOONYOUNG AND HE IS A FIVE TIMES GEMINI#but still man jun acts a lot like a gemini dude#but i still love him#i'd die for that lil man#junhui#wen junhui#kpop#kpop fanfiction#kpop fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#seventeen#seventeen kpop#kpop seventeen#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen fanfic#singles day#svt fanfiction#svt fanfic#svt kpop#svt#say the name seventeen#jun au#jun fanfiction#jun kpop
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Our New Pricing Is All About What You Care About Most: Converting More Traffic
Can you think of a great piece of digital marketing you came across in the past year?
Maybe it was a super empathetic email that made you say, “hot damn, this company really gets me.” Or it could have been a clever ad that reminded you about a product you were looking at and offered you a sweet discount. Whatever it was, chances are good that those marketers were using advanced tools to collect data and insights that helped them create a highly relevant experience for you—and that’s what made it stand out.
Today, it’s those incredibly personalized marketing experiences that are most effective at getting signups and sales online. The problem is the software that makes them possible is usually priced for huge companies with deep pockets.
As a marketer, you just want to be able to use the tools you need to be successful, regardless of your budget. And so you hope that companies price their software in a way that both makes it accessible and reflects the actual value you’re getting back.
Often, that’s not the case.
When You Use Marketing Software, What’re You Actually Paying For?
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of evaluating marketing software (/s), you will have seen some of the different ways that companies charge for their products.
For example, there’s cost-plus pricing, which is when a SaaS brand adds up all the expenses that go into supplying a product then slaps a margin on top. And then there’s competitor pricing—software providers using the price of similar products as a benchmark for their own. The trouble is these pricing models don’t have anything to do with the benefit you’re getting from the product.
Enter value-based pricing, which is all about understanding the quantifiable benefit of a product to the market (usually through a ton of research and customer interviews) and setting a price based on that value. Or, in shorter terms, giving you what you pay for.
Tying the price of marketing software to the value it actually delivers means the benefit you get should always outweigh the cost of the platform. It’s fair for everybody. Plus the SaaS has a huge incentive to increase the value that you get. When you succeed, so does the provider.
The Value You Care About Isn’t Landing Pages, It’s Conversions
Over the past year, Unbounce has really focused on fuelling growing businesses and empowering digital marketers like you.
Part of that is investing in our product to help you create the highest-converting campaigns possible. The other part is ensuring that you’re getting the most bang for your buck. Every time you evaluate Unbounce, we want you to feel your budget is being well spent—that you’re getting value.
Which begs the question: what’s the value of a landing page platform, really?
It oughta save you time—that’s a given. It should make it super easy to create pages that look like they were built by a time-traveling Michelangelo. But at the end of the day, we know that what you really care about is getting more conversions, whether that’s leads, sales, signups—you name it.
You’re not building landing pages for fun. You expect they’ll help you convert more of your traffic. Yet almost every company charges you based on things like the number of users on your account or pages you can build. (Hey, we’re not perfect. We’ve done this, too.)
Until now, no landing page platform on the market has aligned its pricing with the real value of its product to (ultimately) incentivize giving you more of what you want. That’s why, starting today, we’re offering new pricing plans that’re directly tied to what matters most: conversions.
Leads, Sales, Signups—It’s All About Converting More Traffic
Our four new plans are focused on supporting you through the different stages of your business’s growth, giving you the tools you need to consistently create incredible marketing campaigns. Each plan is designed to support a particular kind of Unbounce customer with conversion and traffic totals that make sense for you.
For example, when you’re new to Unbounce, our entry-level plan will help you learn to create attention-grabbing landing pages without a developer. Once you’re getting some traffic, you can upgrade to a plan with optimization features that’ll help convert more of your visitors.
But before getting into the details, let’s get a couple of things outta the way:
“Hang on—is this a price hike?”
Nope. (Our entry-level plan, Launch, is now actually less expensive than our previously lowest-priced plan.) This is all about giving you the flexibility to choose a plan that fits your business, which is why we’re introducing additional options to meet the needs of more of our customers as they scale.
“But can I keep my existing plan?”
Absolutely. We don’t think you should have to change plans unless you want to. (Although you might once you see the new ones.) If you’re happy with your plan, you can keep it.
There’s one small exception, and that’s customers who’ve been with us since 2010—the very beginning. We wanted to do something special for this group to show our thanks, so they’re being migrated to our super-exclusive Vintage plan that gives them a bunch of cool benefits at (or even less than) the same price they’re already paying.
Our New Conversion-Based Pricing Plans Support Your Growth
With that out of the way, we’re pleased to reveal Unbounce’s four new conversion-based self-serve plans: Launch, Optimize, Accelerate, and Scale.
As you can see, all Unbounce plans now come with unlimited landing pages, popups, and sticky bars. (Go wild, y’all.) Plans are tiered by the number of conversions and the amount of traffic you’re driving to your Unbounce pages based on your stage of growth, plus the number of domains you need. (You can check out the full breakdown here.)
Launch is for someone who’s just getting started with landing pages. The plan comes with everything you need to create pages fast (like our drag-and-drop builder and quick-start templates)—all without a developer.
Optimize is for marketers who are ready to start optimizing their landing pages and really crank up the conversions. This tier unlocks AI-powered tools like Smart Traffic (plus more traditional tools like A/B testing) that help you maximize every click.
Accelerate is for marketing teams and agencies who are growing fast and are looking for a lil’ extra juice. Get everything in Optimize, plus fast-loading AMP pages to ensure the best experience for every visitor.
Scale has the highest limits of any of our self-serve plans, giving you the bandwidth you need to reach even more people with your campaigns. Your landing pages regularly get tens of thousands of visitors? This is probably the plan for you.
Additionally, Unbounce has got a new suite of plans we’re calling Concierge, reflecting the hands-on training and support (plus flexible limits) these plans offer. You can learn more about Concierge here.
Not sure which plan sounds right for you? We’ve also got a nifty recommendation tool that’ll suggest a plan based on things like your expected number of conversions and visitors.
Everything You Need to Know About Our New Pricing
Unbounce’s new plans don’t just better reflect the value you’re getting from our product. Because they scale with you, you can actually see how Unbounce is supporting your business. Plus they tie your success to ours—if you’re not growing as a result of more conversions, then neither are we.
That’s not the only way we’re helping you grow in 2020. With Unbounce Conversion Intelligence, we’re harnessing machine learning to give you the insights and tools you need to create the highest-converting campaigns possible—the sorta stuff that used to be exclusive to the big guys. Smart Traffic is already helping more than 2,000 customers by automatically routing visitors to the page that’s most relevant to them. And we used our machine learning model to analyze 34,000 landing pages for the Conversion Benchmark Report, showing you how to build for your audience and out-optimize your competitors.
You can get more details on pricing and compare the plans on our new pricing page. If you have any feedback or questions about this change (or anything else going on at Unbounce), feel free to reach out to us at [email protected].
from Marketing https://unbounce.com/news/conversion-based-pricing-plans/
via http://www.rssmix.com/
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Berry’s Little Secret Ch 2
When Blue got back downstairs, he was shaken. He wanted to get down on the floor and cry, he wanted to hug his little brother and fall asleep in his arms, he wished he could take Sprinkle with him and run away, never having to see Nightmare again. But he couldn’t, he had to stay strong, he was a rabbit in a lion's den, and he had a child, living on death’s door, who needed to have someone who wasn’t a serial killer to trust.
Blue steadied himself, his posture perfect, breathing normal, and his smile wide. He skipped his way over to his husband and child, who were cuddled nicely together. It looked like nothing could tear them apart. Blue got on the other side of Sprinkle and got as close as he could, reaching his arms across both his child and Dust.
“Such a cute family.” Cross squealed as he watched them cuddle from the other room.
“Are you sure we can convince Blue to betray his friends, even more so than he already has, and publically support and or join us?” Killer said and Cross nodded.
“Nightmare is already going to kill that kid if Blue falls out of line, so all we have to do is continue with our original plan, and then dethrone Nightmare, and we’ll be good!” Cross said, his eyes turning to stars.
“I know. But we have gotten nowhere with it, honestly, I think we should just take Nightmare down right now. That way we can keep Sprinkle safe and get Blue is our debt. Then Stockholm syndrome our way to the most feared Sans on our side.” Killer said.
“We can get in touch with Dream. He’ll be ready to uncorrupt or possibly even kill Nightmare if need be.” Horror said, eating orange slices.
“Maybe. Though the hard part is getting to Dream and talking to him without getting beaten to a pulp or caught and then killed.” Cross said.
Little did the conspiring trio know, Blue heard everything. He was a master at not actually sleeping when he appeared to be and knew better than to sleep in his enemies’ base. He was not the idiot he often pretended to be.
Dinner was uneventful, aside from Dust nearly biting off Horror’s hand when he reached out to Sprinkle. When everyone was set to go to bed, Sprinkle and Dust decided to sleep with Blue.
“Scared I’ll kidnap him? Take him somewhere safe?” Blue said, smiling. But his eyes were blank.
“Whatever.” Dust said as he took off his shirt and threw it onto the floor.
In contrast to Dust’s pajamas, Blue had fluffy pajamas with stars and hearts on them, courtesy of his brother, and Sprinkle had a baggy grey shirt and black sweatpants.
“Why don’t you wear a shirt to sleep?” Sprinkle asked and Dust shrugged.
“My ribs need to breathe.” He said, gesturing to the scars and chips on his rib cage.
Blue sighed, cuddling Sprinkle and holding him tightly. The family got in the bed together and Blue had his back to the door, while Dust had his eyes facing the door, Sprinkle sandwiched between them.
As the night wore on, Blue thought about how he ended up in this situation. It had been nearly ten years since he had that one night stand with Dust, and though he loved his child, he wished they were not born into the world and circumstances they were.
Dust’s thoughts also drifted to when he found out he was pregnant, it was a shock to him. He had never thought about wanting a child, though the idea brought a warm feeling to his soul, and he was scared about what Nightmare would do. He had tried to hide it, and even telling Blue the next time they fought, and that was when they began to plan and plot a way to save their child.
“What do you mean you’re pregnant?” Blue said, Dust having dragged him off to an isolated part of the AU, away from the battle.
“I am. And I’m scared Nightmare might kill the baby.” Dust said, rubbing his arms in anxiety.
“Then leave! We will help you.” Blue said and Dust scoffed.
“No. I’m not leaving him! He’s the only one who's been good to me, and he reached out to me when I was at my lowest. I’m not leaving him.” Dust said, and Blue sighed.
“Yet you think he’ll kill our child?” Blue pressed, confused.
“He might, but I owe him everything, so I can’t leave.” Dust said and Blue growled.
“If the kid wants you to leave, will you?” Blue asked, and Dust shrugged.
“Maybe. Depends. Though Nightmare still might kill them, nowhere is truly safe from him.” Dust said, and Blue let out a small breath.
“That I can agree with. If you leave, Nightmare will find our child and kill them for sure, but if you don’t, there is still a chance.” Blue said, shaking. “We need an incentive to keep our child safe, something worth keeping them around.” Blue said, and Dust held his head low.
“Would you be willing to give us information? Small things to give us an edge, but not so big you would actually die or let him kill you and take over, making keeping our child alive useless.” Dust asked, holding a hand over his faint ecto, where the tiny soul was.
“Enough to keep them alive, if it comes to that. I want to hear any demands he has, I don’t want to give more than I have to, and I will never join you.” Blue said, and Dust shrugged.
“Sure. And the kid may be useful to him.” Dust said and Blue shuddered.
“Keep him out of your job as much and as long as possible, I do not want to have to fight my own child.” Blue said and Dust nodded.
That day, Dust came forth about his condition and Nightmare seemed calm.
“Who is the father?” Nightmare asked, his tentacle sharpening.
“A semi-consensual Blue.” Dust said, lying to make it seem like a more evil act and not a moment of weakness.
“I see. Tell me Dust, why did you fuck him?” Nightmare said, and Dust had to stop himself from shaking.
“I wanted to destroy his reputation as a pure defender. What better than fucking him?” Dust said, and Nightmare laughed.
“Great plan. Wish you told me, but, how do I know that child won’t get us caught? Or get us defeated? Children are very demanding after all.” Nightmare asked, smiling sweetly and he broke a steel pen in half.
“I feel that this is also an opportunity to get favors from him, using the child as a bargaining piece.” Dust said. “Blue is emotional, we know that, we can use my child against him.” Dust finished and Nightmare still smiled.
“As do I. I will contact him, are there any specific demands you want to make?” Nightmare asked.
“I think he should be able to see the child, let them bond and make it easier to demand something from him. I also think we shouldn’t change the deal, it may complicate whatever method of getting whatever demand from him. Also, we should let him get as much as he can without giving himself away, asking for too much may expose him.” Dust said, scared out of his mind.
“Alright. That’s the deal. If Blue gets us as much info as he can, he can see the child whenever he wants and I won’t kill them. Anything else?” Nightmare asked.
“Don’t have my kid be a part of the missions, it may complicate things if we have him fighting his own child.” Dust said and Nightmare nodded.
“Thank you.” Nightmare said, and he repeated the terms Dust had made,and when he made contact with Blue, nothing was added or altered to the deal.
Now, the deal remains intact, even written down on a paper hidden in Blue’s house. But as Nightmare makes his move, and begins to plot, the deal will begin to unravel, and Sprinkle may pay the price.
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#undertale#fanfic#Berry's Little Secret#underswap sans#cross sans#horror Sans#killer sans#dustsans#sprinkle#nightmare sans
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The Ultimate Straight Razor Shaving Guide
Applying one entails focusing to decrease the danger of cuts. Hydrate your face with warm water initially and employ shaving soap using a brush. You will want to pass over your face a couple of days and sharpen the blade prior to your brush. When you've mastered the razor, you will have the ability to provide yourself a much closer shave than you would ever get using a safety razor.
1. Have a hot shower and allow the water wash on your face for 5 minutes. You might also wrap a hot towel around your face such as barbers do to their clients. Wipe a little towel in warm water and then hold it firmly against your face before the towel dries.
2. Rub pre-shave oil on your face. Great pre-shave oil will make shaving easier. Search for products containing natural oils like jojoba, olive, coconut, or coconut. These oils help soften your own hair without quitting your razor.
3. Scrub your shaving brush in warm water. Fill out your shaving cup or bowl with warm water. Be certain that the water is warm so that it softens the bristles in your brush. Leave the brush to boil for a moment or 2. Then, pick the brush up and then flick your wrist to eliminate unneeded water.
The maximum quality shaving creams are made from badger hair. Boar bristle brushes are more economical, and artificial brushes have the lowest grade.
You can work the soap or lotion into your whiskers together with your palms, but a brush makes it a ton simpler. Put shaving lotion or soap on the base of your shaving . Dump the water out on your bowl or mug. Replace it with nickel-sized dollop of shaving lotion or the whole soap cake. Soaps would be the less expensive choice and are made out of a high fat, vegetable oil glycerine mix. Creams are very similar to soaps and also you ought to look for ones using organic essential oils such as coconut or jojoba oil. [4]
Prevent common shaving creams and foams. Even though you can use them, they will not give you as good of a shave as standard lotions and soaps.
I believed my shaves could not get any better once I updated from my Mach5 into an older school safety razor. I was incorrect. My wife noticed that the gap without me telling her what I'd done and announced it was the funniest she had ever seen. Thus make the switch into a straight razor.
Decreased prices. The upfront costs to begin using straight razor shaving really are somewhat on the costly side. But once you buy all of the equipment, you are set for lifetime . You will not ever need to purchase razor cartridges or double edge blades again. Only give your right razor a wonderful stropping and you are all set. The only cost you will need from here on out is a intermittent tube of shaving lotion.
Now's modern shaving racket generates needless waste. When you are done using a cartridge, then you need to throw it out. When you purchase new cartridges, you are left with a whole lot of packaging stuff. The just waste you will produce is biodegradable shaving scum.
Meditative. It is a craft that needs you to slow down and actually concentrate on what you are doing. Following a couple of days of shaving with a straight razor, then you might begin to find yourself entering a remarkably manly zen-like state.
You will feel like more of a poor ass. You're going to be shaving using a tool which could double as a deadly weapon. Putting razor-sharp steel beside your own neck each single day reminds you that you are alive.
Your main tool is the own razor. Do not find skimpy along with your razor and get the least expensive one. You do not need the lowest priced; you desire the very best. Poor razors wind up being more trouble than they are worth. They'll irritate skin and cause nicks and cuts which will irritate you so long as you use it. If well maintained, a fantastic razor will last for ages. Your great-grandsons may even utilize it.
It is possible to buy directly razors either used or new. It is possible to discover used directly razors on ebay and antique shops. Employed razors will probably have imperfections inside the blade which will call for expert honing. A specialist blade recovery will put you back about 30 bones, but it is going to save you from cutting off the crap from your face.
If you would prefer a new razor, then have a look at You can buy pre-sharpened blades which are all set to utilize the very first time you shave for approximately $130.
When Searching for razors, think about these variables:
A razor with great temper sharpens greater than weaker quality steels. 1 method to test when you've got a nicely tempered blade would be to grab the tip of the blade below your thumbnail allow it to slide off fast. If the blade provides a fantastic clear ring, then it is probably well tempered. If it does not, the blade has been probably tempered unevenly.
Most contemporary straight razors are floor using a hollow. Hollowing puts a concave on all sides of the blade which produces the nut lighter, sharper, and simpler to deal with. You are able to buy blades with varying levels of hollowing. While complete concaves will provide you the sharpest edge, it is not advocate for beginners. When this advantage comes in touch with a rigid beard, if you don't hold the blade quite flat on the surface, it's fairly possible to flex and spring, leading to a cut.
Also think about the blade's thickness when choosing a razor. Do not pick one that is too broad. Start looking for a 5/8 dimensions. It's simple to command and follows the face's contours more tightly than other blades.
Eventually, consider which sort of blade stage you desire. Blades come in rounded or sharp points. Sharp points have a propensity to cut and liquefy, so proceed with a round point.
When you examine a razor's edge beneath a microscope, you will notice that it is composed of several factors that resemble watched teeth. Honing a sword restores these teeth to their initial condition.
The 10 whetstone you use to sharpen your pocketknife will not function as a hone for the razor blade. They are simply too rough for shaving blades. We are in need of a quality hone with finer grit to find that sharp clean edge that'll make shaving comfy. A woodworking whetsone using a 4,000/8,000 grit mix will operate, and you may readily locate them at most hardware stores or online.
Another hone alternative is really a "barber hone." All these are little more difficult to find. Most are classic, and you are going to need to scour eBay or antique shops to locate one. Since they are less coarse than conventional whetstones, ceramic hones need more strokes to sharpen your own wig.
If you would like to discover a ceramic barber hone, look at eBay.
A sword taken straight out of a hone is left demanding and unfit to place on the facearea. This provides your right razor which keen edge which makes shaving a breeze.
The most frequently encountered strop is that the hanging strop. Hanging strops include 2 components: a single canvas strip and a single leather strip. Again, do not find chintzy with your strop. Cheaper models use rough leather and canvas. If you don't would like to mess up your razor, you shouldn't ever place it into such a sub-par strop.
Fromm Leather Strop
Brush. A brush helps moisturize the shaving lotion so as to produce a thick and rich shaving lather. With a brush up helps get the shaving lotion up beneath every whisker which leads to smoother, better shaves. Additionally, it just feels nice in your own face to gobble up using a brush.
Brushes are manufactured from boar or badger hair. Boar hair brushes prices significantly less, however they hold less moisture and thus make a bad lather. You may grab a wonderful badger brush in any given Crabtree and Evelyn or Art of Shaving. If you do not have these in your region, try Amazon.
Suggested Brushes
Shaving Lotion or Soap. You dedicate shaving sacrilege once you use a straight razor using an mass-produced chemical goop which gets passed away as shaving lotion. Purchase some quality shaving lotions and soaps. They may be more expensive compared to the crap you purchase in a can, however, organic shaving lotions and soaps nourish your face and force you to feel totally manly. Additionally, I have discovered soaps and lotions last longer than shaving creams, so you wind up saving money in the long term.
Honing a wig intimidates many guys. But, honing is not that difficult as soon as you understand how to perform it correctly.
1. Wipe the rock clean
2. If you are using a whetstone, then you will want to bring a lubricant into the rock's surface. Oil, water, or possibly a little shaving lather can get the job done. The lubricant serves two functions. It prevents the blade from heating as you scratch it across the rock. If the blade becomes too hot, it is possible to really cause some warping from the alloy that will destroy the blade. Secondly, lubricant melts any steel and rock particles that are made during honing. You want a clean surface to find the work done correctly.
If you are using a ceramic rock, you do not need to include lubrication.
3. Lay the rock on a level surface with the coarser side upward.
4. Set the razor perfectly horizontal on the hone so the backbone and border touch the rock. When the border just rolls, you're going to get a brief bevel along with also a dull edge.
5. Hold the razor from the shank and begin sharpening. Since the blade is more than the rock's width, you will want to brush the blade as you work, so that you sharpen the whole advantage evenly. Draw the blade to tip forward against the border, and with mild strain. When bolstering, the blade edge LEADS the stroke. This usually means the blade edge should point from the way you stroke.
6. Without lifting the blade out of the rock, turn the border up, so the razor rests on the rear of the blade.
7. Again, use moderate pressure.
Diagram of appropriate honing
8. Continue honing before the blade is adequately sharp. A fast method to find out if it's the blade is sharp is to draw the border (from heel to tip ) very gently, across a moistened thumbnail. If the blade digs to your thumbnail, using a smooth, continuous grip, your blade is sharp and is prepared for stropping. A dull razor will pass across the nail easily. An over-honed razor will stick to a own nail and generate a harsh, unpleasant feeling.
The time necessary to hone your razor is dependent upon your razor's illness. When it's in great shape, 8 10 strokes in each management must do the trick. In case you've got many nicks from the pill, you will want to put in longer time. In case your razor is in very poor shape, then send it to an expert cutler to get it correctly ground.
Many men avoid direct razor shaving since they believe that they'll need to sharpen the blade whenever they shave. In fact, if you maintain your blade dry and correctly stropped, you won't need to hone it often. Most great blades may go 6 to 8 weeks involving honings. You will know you want to hone it since stropping will not sharpen it .
To find the most comfortable and effective shave, then strop your right razor each time you shave.
1. Hang your strop out of your toilet drawer together with the hook one end of the strop.
2. If you are stropping shortly after honing, simply use the strop's leather aspect. Between shaves, start off using all the canvas side before utilizing the leather.
3. Holding the grip in the strop's underside on your left handpull on the strop tight. When the strop is loose and you also simply take your blade over it, then you might get a curved, dull border, so you are going to need to hone it frequently.
4. Unlike bolstering, the razor's edge will TRAIL, rather than direct the strokes. When you are stroking the razor TOWARDS you, then the blade edge should confront AWAY from you.
5. Draw the blade towards you (again with border pointing away from you), constantly keeping the heels of the razor ahead of the tip of this razor.
6. When you get to the strop's finish, rotate the nut onto its rear before the un-stropped side comes directly in touch with the strop. The razor's edge should confront TOWARDS you currently.
7. 15-20 strokes in each way on the strop need to make your blade sharp and nice. If you are first starting out using straight razor shaving, then consider slow and even strokes. Develop speed slowly. As soon as you get the hang of it, then stropping a razor should not take over 30 minutes.
For first-time direct razor shavers, a significant question looming in their heads is:"How in the hell do I hold this item?" Ask five distinct right razor aficionados how to maintain a straight razor and you are going to get five distinct answers. Advanced right razor shavers change up grips based on if they are shaving across, or contrary to the grain or whenever they are shaving a particular portion of the face. For the novice, we propose that this Simple grasp:
Put your thumb over the face of the blade close to the center. This grip provides you nice charge of this razor. You might need to fix it once you shave various components of your face, such as your upper lip or your own jaw. For more examples of how you are able to hold a wig, have a look at the Straight Razor Palace Wiki.
Everybody has their own preference when it concerns the method they use using a straight razor. Here we provide a proposed approach to shave. As you get expertise wielding a straight razor, then you will end up shifting things up to match your taste. If a specific means to shave with a straight razor functions for you, then take action.
Soft whiskers cut easily than dry whiskers. The warmth and water mix softens your beard and leaves it ready for shaving. You may replicate the barbershop experience by soaking a towel in warm water, wringing it out, and putting it on your head for a couple of minutes.
If you do not have enough time for this luxury, simply brush once you escape from a hot shower. If you'd like a really soft beard, then rub a hair conditioner in your beard before you begin showering and wash it out once you are done.
Put a nickel-sized dollop of shaving cream in your mug. If you are using shaving soap, then set the soap at the base of the mug. Scrub your brush in warm water. Flick surplus water from the brush. Together with all the brush, combine the cream/soap completely, with a joint stirring and churning movement until a thick lather appears.
Put on the lather to a face with your brush from swirling motions. Make sure lather gets up beneath each and every whisker. When you have covered your face thoroughly, have a few strokes to even out everything.
Hold the blade in a 30-degree angle. Anything more and you risk cutting ; anything less and you also won't reduce the whiskers. Allow the razor perform the job! Pressing down on the razor is only going to trigger cuts.
Reach over your head with your left hand and then draw upward the skin with your palms, thus creating a smooth shaving surface. Shave down before you clear about half of the ideal cheek. Twist the left hand further until the palms rest in the center of the cheek. Pull the skin up. Keep on shaving until you shave the whole right side of their face.
After shaving the proper cheek, then proceed to the ideal jaw. Tilt your head back and forth to the left, exposing skin beneath your proper chin. With the fingers of your left hand, then draw skin tight beneath the jaw. Shave down if the blossom grows in this way.
As for me, I really don't expect the dexterity and signature in my hand to make the switch.
Put the fingers of the left hand facing and just above the ear. Pull up on the skin in order to draw skin tight. Together with the razor on your hand, toe pointing upwards, hit across the face, and shave down. Walk your hands down since you reach the lower portion of their chin and cheek. Keep pulling the skin tight.
Tilt your head back and forth to the right, exposing skin beneath your chin.
Shave the Top Lip
Draw the top lip down as far as you possibly can tighten skin. Shave downwards.
Draw your lower lip as far as possible. This may pull the skin tight, which makes it much easier to shave the whiskers under your lip and onto your chin.
Throw back your head and lift the chin. Together with your left fingers, draw down skin. Take additional care as possible shave. The skin below the neck is significantly more sensitive and vulnerable to cutting.
Important Notice: Always put on a sweet vest when shaving with a razor.
Can I really do multiple passes?
If you want to have that smooth as a baby's behind appearance, you are going to need to do several passes with the razor heading round and against the grain. For the novice, I recommend just going on your face again using a downward stroke.
When you get some experience with your right razor, then you can try adding a round the grain and from the grain . An across-the-grain pass is if you brush in the direction perpendicular to what the blossom grows. If your whiskers grow down in your cheek, you're shave round your cheek from right to left or left to right. It is essentially the opposite of shaving down.
If you Opt to do multiple moves, the arrangement goes thusly:
Shave upon the grain.
Shave from the grain.
Before every pass, clean your face away and re-lather.
Scrub off your face with cool water. Splash a manly smelling aftershave in your face. Aftershave helps reduce skin discomfort and leaves skin looking healthy.
Cuts and nicks occur for Many reasons, for example:
Employing a dull razor
Holding the razor
eyebrow with a razor that is overly hollow
eyebrow in too great a rush
Shaving against the grain
When you initially begin using a straight razor, then you are certain to cut your self. Do not let this dissuade you. Cuts have been the top barbers.
You are able to prevent most small cuts and nicks simply by pressing on the cut together while incorporating pressure. If this does not work, have a syptic pen into the cut. Should you reduce your butt, well, you are kind of screwed. Therefore don't do this.
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I'm Not Over You //Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 3)
Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you two met in university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when the two of you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.
A/N: I forgot to add that the reader desires to take up a career in medicine outside the country (say Spain ) while working to save up for tuition fees and loans. But better late than never, right? (I'm such an idiot for nearly leaving this out urrrrgh-) I honestly feel like a horrible writer 😂
Word count: 2947
Warnings: Fluff and angst. And one mention of drinking...again.
Tags: @queen-turtle-boiii
Let me know if you wanna be tagged too, I'll go on vacation for a bit :)
Instead of the waking up to the blinding glare of the sun peeping through the curtains, your eyes shoot open as the sound of a notification from your inbox pops up. You didn't exactly fall asleep in an easy position, thus making you sensitive to the slightest touch or sound.
You sit up immediately, yawning as you turn to the bedside table where you've left your laptop running all night. Cracking your knuckles as you shift towards the edge, you shake your head slightly and squint at the screen to open your inbox.
It's a response email from the medical school you took an entrance exam for.
"This early?!" It came out as raspy squeak than anything. You had taken the exam weeks prior and in the lowest of hopes, thought that you wouldn't make the list. Yet with a sliver of hope, you click on it, feeling your heart beat in an irregular pattern. The email loads open and you go through the first lines, your fingers tangling themselves roughly in your hair in anticipation.
Just seconds into the email, you feel like pelting yourself off of the bed from the relief and happiness caused by your acceptance into the school. A little skeptical, you give it a second look and gape at the line of your acceptance just to reassure yourself of the truth.
You actually did it.
Without tethering anything back, you collapse back onto the sheets and give out a whopping "woo-hoo", pumping your fists and kicking your feet in the air knowing that your hard work finally paid off.
You're going to study medicine outside of the country!
You still can't catch your high and so you grab a pillow to shriek into, feeling like a school girl who just got her crush to ask her out. After doing so, you calm down with an ear-splitting grin lingering on your face, touched and giddy with the news. You can't wait to tell everyone.
And of course, you want to take it easy in giving the news away, just one person at a time. You roll off the bed and get ready for work with a congratulatory smile, still maintaining your balance on cloud nine.
(Time skip to the moment of your dismissal)
It had started to rain heavily the moment you left work and luckily, you happen to be prepared. Standing under a canopy of a coffee shop, you open your umbrella and take cover as you begin treading down the street home.
About your acceptance, you've called your parents about it and they couldn't be any more prouder than they already are. You got to Joe next and though he was in the middle of having brunch back in California, he was close to spitting out his tea on purpose for the sake of exaggerating, but of course he was proud of you too.
You roll up the sleeves of your coat as you make your way through the narrow sidewalk, avoiding splashes caused by the passing vehicles. You stand before the pedestrian lane and wait for the traffic lights to flicker red so that you can cross. In the middle of waiting, you hear the faint shrill of your phone ringing from the inner pocket of your coat. You smirk as you fish it out, your breath falling at the name of Ben spelled out as the caller.
Hmm, what does he want?
You waste no time in answering him, putting up the phone to your ear. "Hey!"
He seems to answer your gush but all you hear in the line is unintelligible mumbling. The patter of the rain masked the volume of his voice and so you ask for him to repeat what he said.
"I said hey! Are you free right now?!" He yells through the line, the volume of his voice penetrating through the sound of the rain. You wipe your cheek and respond in the same volume. "Yeah, I just got off work! Why?"
"I got news for you! You wanna meet up?"
That's great, since you plan on telling him about your acceptance. Under a gloomy overcast, the smile on your face could alter the weather as you think about it. "Definitely cause I got something to tell you too!"
He laughs heartily through the line. "Great! My place sounds good? I could whip up something warm, you sound like you're in the streets."
"I am. I'll see you?"
You swear you could sense his lips curl into a soft curve upwards and the image spurs a blush on your face. "Definitely. See you here, Y/N." He says calmly and you hang up, hailing a cab straightaway in the eagerness to tell him the good news.
You climb in quickly and close your umbrella, giving the driver Ben's address as you slam the door close. You're certain of him being happy for you. He always did support you in your dreams, and ambitions, and this is one he'd hold you high up for.
As the cab comes to a halt across the street, you hand the driver your payment and step out of the vehicle, opening your umbrella in the process. You close the door and breathe in as you cross the street to Ben's place with great caution. By the minute you reach his door, you close your umbrella and flick water droplets away from your forehead, knocking on the door thrice.
You hear light, padded footsteps shuffle from inside and the door swings open, revealing a fresh-faced Ben reclining against the frame. The guy's huggable factor just went up with his striped hoodie on.
"Damn, you okay? It's really cold out." He takes you by the shoulders in concern as he notices you shiver and you chuckle, patting his arm lightly in reassurance. "I'm fine. A little chilly but fine."
He presses his mouth together and like a worried mother, shakes his head at the sight of you cold and quite damp. You don't really feel either with how you're overdressed, you left for work aware of the forecast. Ben leads you in and closes the door behind you. You set your bag down on the couch and he offers to help you out of your coat.
You nod and let him. He hangs your coat on the rack, sighing softly with his hands rested on his hips. "I made hot chocolate by the way." He reminds you, cocking his head to one side.
"You're like a mother today, are you alright?" You comment playfully, taking small, leisurely steps along the spiffy living area. A huge contrast to how the place looked like last night from the party.
He rubs the base of his neck, evidently stifling a smile. "Oh I'm more than alright, Y/N."
"Didn't get a hangover or anything from last night?" You ask jokingly.
"Don't worry, I was perfectly sober," he looks down and shrugs, "semi-sober."
You shake your head, bemused and not surprised by it. "I'd love a cup though."
"Great. Come on." You swear, he looks real elated at the moment. It's not new but it's the most giddy you've seen him. Even more so compared to the moment you gave him his gift.
You don't know what's causing it yet you have to admit it's infectious. You follow him to the dining area and he pulls out a seat for you. You go around and decide to poke him on what he wanted to tell you, because you couldn't contain your own news any longer.
Ben returns from the kitchen with two,steaming cups of hot chocolate in hand. You save him the possibility of tripping on his own foot and stand up to take your cup from him, "I'll take that, thanks." A light chuckle slips past his lips as you both settle down on your seats in unison. No matter how strong the rain is outside, it just compliments the lovely space between you and Ben.
You miss this, your small meet-ups and talks that somehow always unmistakably lead to bigger plans. However irrelevant to what's currently running in your head, Ben's radiance under the gloaming mood is mesmerizing. He's a walking carnival price; one you badly want to tackle down and cuddle close.
Sadly, that would never be the case.
"Eager now, are we?" Ben's gentle voice coaxes you out of your trance and you collect yourself.
You wave your hand vaguely in mid air, giving the drink a quick blow before tipping it to your lips to drink. "You sounded excited about your news, and I feel the same about mine."
He brings his cup to his mouth and sips a little. "I can't contain myself so I suggest you do the talking first."
"No, you do it."
"Please, by all means, ladies first."
"Quit with the formality and talk." A chuckle could no longer be contained between the pair of you.
He rubs his hands together and brings them close to his lips, clasping them and apparently giving in. "Alright. It's only fair," he purses his lips amusingly, "since I'm the one that called you in."
You cross your arms in triumph and he pauses to form the words in his head correctly. "Remember what we talked about last night?"
As if on cue, a bit of that memory flashes in your mind and you nod. "Yeah, what about it?"
He inhales and looks at his fingers standing up and taking small steps towards you, his action confusing you. You knit your brows together as he suddenly gets down on one knee, and as if programmed to work during a moment as this, your blood rushes rapidly through your veins and you become aware of how fast your heart is beating.
Ben had asked you about your thoughts on him being a husband and you had the impression that he'd propose to Rosy but whatever he's doing now, you're certain it isn't what you had in mind.
You finally gain the gut to speak up, in a breathy voice. "B-Ben?"
He looks deep into your eyes and takes your hand gently in his, and in doing so, you mentally shut down.
Is he doing what you think he's doing?
You're not sure but your subconscious wishes otherwise. His pupils seem to dilate to the point of overshadowing his green irises as he begins to talk.
"I did it." He says softly, the sincere smile on his face still present.
You snap out, quizzical. "Did what?"
"I proposed...to her."
His words have registered into your mind but it takes you a couple of seconds to react. You feel your shoulders slacken and chest tighten on their own. "You have?" Your voice couldn't be any more smaller than it already is.
He nods gleefully. "Yes! Can you believe it," he springs up from crouching and runs his hands through his disheveled, blond hair, his expression teeming with genuine happiness, "I thought I couldn't push through but I did! And she said yes!"
Wordless for a few moments, you rise up with your head still hung low, in a brief battle to fight back the burn. The sick, petty burn you feel everytime you hear something progress between Ben and Rosy. You keep it at bay for the meantime and finally look up to meet his green eyes.
"When did you do it?" You try to sound interested.
He hums, still elated. "Last night. After the party."
You dreadfully bring yourself to smile at him, hoisting the facade that you're truly happy that he's finally going to be a hundred steps farther. And to think you nearly thought he was going to propose to you.
Now that was a priceless assumption.
What if you hadn't left so early?
You swear internally at yourself, overcome with guilt that you're somehow acting like a bitch towards this. Ben is happy, he's finally happy, and you would never wish unfortune upon him and Rosy. He's always been supportive of everything you do and he's always displayed it genuinely. They're both happy, you want to live it with it...but you couldn't. You can't. You don't want to.
But you have to.
"I'm," you know you couldn't bear the thought of a life without him close by. This is really it. This is where you draw the line. And it's only going to take you five, simple words– four, now that you've weakly said the first, "happy for you."
You swear you felt your heart knock over your rib cage as you said that.
Reluctantly, you put your shaking hand on his shoulder, gathering the last of your strength to look him straight in the eye without faltering. "Know that I am."
The gleam in Ben's eyes brightens even more as his chest relaxes from the small tension he's just had from telling you about his engagement. The grin on his face widens and he pulls you into his arms, as a sign of thank you.
"You're the one that made this all happen you know. I couldn't have done it without you," he hums over your shoulder, "I really don't know what I'd do without you."
You swallow hard, trying to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. It was you who encouraged him to go on with his proposal to Rosy when he felt like gelatin from all the worrying. You've made him really happy but it cost you your happiness. What if you had left him to think about it?
Thanks to you, you've lost your best friend to someone else.
You bring your arms around him and take advantage of the embrace to really feel him close, as if it's the last you'll ever get. "...anytime, Ben. Anything for my... best friend."
Anything. Anything.
He sighs deeply and pulls apart slowly, his gesture acting symbolically as the end of it all for you. "So now we've got my news out, what did you want to tell me?"
You stare blankly at him for a while before shaking your head, dismissing it. You've lost your appetite for it. "Eh...it's nothing compared to yours."
"Y/N, minutes ago you were gushing about how excited you were. Come on, whatever it is I'll be proud either way." He assures you sincerely. Now that you think about it, how would he really react to you going away to study for years?
You don't know and don't want to assume but this is one thing you want to keep from him on purpose. He's going to get married anyway, right? So he wouldn't be hanging out with you anymore, your friendship wouldn't be one of his top priorities. And you need to focus anyway, and what's the perfect distraction from heartache than a mind set on fulfilling one's dream?
"It's just...a promotion. I got promoted at work!" You splay your arms out wide with a grin, lying and he beams back. "See? Still a proud bloke for you. They'd be stupid not to promote you."
You feign a hearty chuckle and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I think so." You suddenly feel like leaving. The atmosphere between you and Ben just feels one-sided unlike how it felt moments ago. It seems pathetic of you to repeat the same thing last night but you just can't stand it.
How can you be satisfied feeling deflated in front of Ben?
"Let's catch up and finish our drinks, shall we?"
"I'm sorry, Ben but I just remembered that I have to do something." His expression falls upon hearing you, "Again? But we barely even-"
"I know. It's always an unfortunate turn of events, but my work gets in the way sometimes." You rub your forehead and walk to the living room to collect your bag. Ben strides slowly towards you, eyes hooded in dismay and lips formed into a hard line, scanning you intently as you rummage through your bag and put on your coat.
He's always knew you were expressive and colorful but the way he's observing you now feeds him something he's unfortunately never noticed.
"You really have to go?" Ben couldn't keep the discouragement out of his tone. You whip your head to him and shrug apologetically, and with that he finally catches the thing he's never noticed.
The sadness in your eyes.
You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Maybe we can hang out sometime, yeah?"
His brows furrow a little yet he nods, gazing down at you. "Hopefully without any more distractions. From either parties."
You put your hand up to his cheek, squeezing his supple skin gently even with the hurt still coursing through you. "Will etch that on a stone." Withdrawing your hand from his skin, you turn, only to be drawn back to his muscular arms. It stuns you completely and you question him for it, but the only response you get is a slight nuzzle against your forehead.
Ben doesn't know what's causing your downcast but he hopes a hug would suffice. He decides not to ask since he knows you're in a hurry to go.
You want to hug back but...you can't bring yourself to.
"Ben, you can let go of me now." You whisper sadly, feeling the need to push him away just to downgrade the pain. He declines quietly and in doing so, tears begin rolling down your cheeks and staining his hoodie.
You just can't hold it in for long.
"Hey," he mumbles against your head, aware that you've tensed up, "what's wrong?" He clips your chin between his thumb and index finger gently, tipping your head back for you to look up at him.
You'll miss this. Having his green eyes enthrall you effectively as they see through all your pain. All your insecurities. You don't seem to mind him seeing you tear up a little. As long as he doesn't know why.
"I'm just really happy for you. You'll make each other so happy. " I will try to be, Ben.
He stares down at you fondly, feeling his chest rise and fall with moderate breaths against yours. His heart seems to be throbbing too fast and close to yours as well.
"Thank you, Y/N. I love you, always." In retrospect of all the times he's reminded you of that, it now stings differently.
"I...love you too, you idiot." You definitely do, on all levels including romantic. He releases you and you leave, closing the door slowly on your way out. Picking up your umbrella which you've left to dry in the porch, you hold it over head and walk away, finally surrendering to the burn that threatened to break you back there.
And to the disappointment of letting your hot chocolate go cold.
What's going to happen next for you?
Part 4 will be up when I return
#ben hardy imagine#ben hardy#ben hardy x reader#borhap cast x reader#borhap imagine#borhap cast#borhap#queen
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Psychopaths walk among us. Here's how to resist their evilness.
How do the Dems try to manipulate?
The psychopath patient believes military is nothing more than a strong-arm to subjugate other countries or peoples. They don’t get that we defend what we’re proud of.
Our country cheered yet another stellar jobs report released by the Bureau of Labor Statistics. And unlike the sluggish expansion of the Obama years, the lion’s share of this labor market strength benefits middle-income and previously ignored workers. For example, non-managerial wages accelerated at a 12-month rate of 2.7 percent, the highest in a decade. The jobless rate for non-college graduates fell to the lowest level since 2001. Even for those who did not complete high school, good news abounds, as the jobless rate for that working-class, underdog population has now been below 6 percent for the each of the past five months… .
They use ways to convince. "Gaslighting is a manipulative tactic that can be described in different variations of three words: 'That didn't happen,' 'You imagined it,' and 'Are you crazy?'" Therapist explains. "Gaslighting is perhaps one of the most insidious manipulative tactics out there because it works to distort and erode your sense of reality; it eats away at your ability to trust yourself and inevitably disables you from feeling justified in calling out abuse and mistreatment."
How can you fight back? "Ground yourself in your own reality--sometimes writing things down as they happened, telling a friend, or reiterating your experience to a support network can help to counteract the gaslighting effect,"
The psychopath patient believes military costs too much money. How can they put a price on reforms?
With Pres. Trump all the minorities are gaining. These reforms represent a particularly powerful tailwind for Hispanics, statistically by far the most entrepreneurial demographic in America. Speaking of Hispanics, the labor market news for them has been stellar. In U.S. history, there are only eight months where Hispanics report a jobless rate below 5 percent, and an incredible seven of those eight months have been in the last year alone under Trump’s growth agenda. The news is similarly strong for blacks, where the gap between black and white unemployment shrank to the smallest disparity on record. If President Trump is a racist, as his media critics constantly (and unfairly) allege, then he is remarkably bad at it!
They use ways to convince. You know when toxic people claim all the nastiness that surrounds them is not their fault, but yours? That's called projection. We all do it a little, but the narcissist and psychopath do it a lot. "Projection is a defense mechanism used to displace responsibility of one's negative behavior and traits by attributing them to someone else," notes the therapist.
The solution? "Don't 'project' your own sense of compassion or empathy onto a toxic person and don't own any of the toxic person's projections either," The therapist recommends. "Projecting our own conscience and value system onto others has the potential consequence of being met with further exploitation."
The psychopath patient has conspiracy beliefs. Example. It can be said that a co-worker sometimes fails to consider the long-term ramifications of certain financial decisions. The office psychopath claims you called him "a loose cannon." You noted the deal could possibly go south if X, Y, and Z conditions occur. Your narcissistic colleague tells the boss you said the deal is "a disaster."
What's going on? It's not just that your nemesis didn't understand what you said. It's that he or she had no interest in understanding.
"The malignant narcissist isn’t always an intellectual mastermind--many of them are intellectually lazy. Rather than taking the time to carefully consider a different perspective, they generalize anything and everything you say, making blanket statements that don't acknowledge the nuances in your argument or take into account the multiple perspectives you've paid homage to," The therapist says, summing up this behavior.
To counter it, "hold onto your truth and resist generalizing statements by realizing that they are in fact forms of black and white illogical thinking."
The psychopath and Dems want to take it all away with tax hikes. But Pres. Trump keeps delivering in spite of not one media good report.
The psychopath patient doesn't like the military since it acts as an arm of the U.S. government in other countries where the immediate benefit to the U.S. is not always evident. They believe the military needs to stay at home and let the other countries deal with their own problems.
"The abusive narcissist and sociopath employ a logical fallacy known as 'moving the goalposts' in order to ensure that they have every reason to be perpetually dissatisfied with you. This is when, even after you've provided all the evidence in the world to validate your argument or taken an action to meet their request, they set up another expectation of you or demand more proof," says the therapist.
Don't play that game. "Validate and approve of yourself. Know that you are enough and you don't have to be made to feel constantly deficient or unworthy in some way," The therapist advises.
The DEMS want all nations to stand down - to let the UN run the world - this can never happen, right?
Healing Horses
The psychopath patient sees the armed forces as destroying the environment with pollution, chemicals and products of the nuclear age.
Switching conversational topics sounds innocent enough, but in the hands of a master manipulator, a change of subject becomes a means to avoid accountability. "The narcissist doesn't want you to be on the topic of holding them accountable for anything, so they will reroute discussions to benefit them," the therapist notes.
This sort of thing can go on forever if you let it, making it impossible to actually engage on the relevant issue. Try "the "broken record method" to fight back: "Continue stating the facts without giving in to their distractions. Redirect their redirection by saying, 'That's not what I am talking about. Let's stay focused on the real issue.' If they're not interested, disengage and spend your energy on something more constructive."
The psychopath patient sees the armed forces as those types that have joined the military, but have become disenchanted for some reason or another. They may not have gotten the position or training they wanted, didn't like the structured environment or got into trouble. These are the men and women who lived it for awhile, but couldn't adapt, so they become fanatically anti military.
There are other ways a psychopath can manipulate:
Smear - "When toxic types can't control the way you see yourself, they start to control how others see you; they play the martyr while you're labeled the toxic one. A smear campaign is a preemptive strike to sabotage your reputation and slander your name," the therapist explains.
Sometimes true evil geniuses will even divide and conquer, pitting two people or groups against each other. Don't let them succeed. "Document any form of harassment," the therapist advises, and make sure not to rise to the bait and let the person's horribleness provoke you into behaving in just the sort of negative ways they've falsely attributed to you.
Devalue - Beware when a colleague seems to love you while aggressively denigrating the last person who held your position. "Narcissistic abusers do this all the time--they devalue their exes to their new partners, and eventually the new partner starts to receive the same sort of mistreatment as the narcissist's ex-partner," the therapist says. But this dynamic can happen in the professional realm as well as the personal one.
Simple awareness of the phenomenon is the first step to countering it. "Be wary of the fact that how a person treats or speaks about someone else could potentially translate into the way they will treat you in the future," the therapist cautions.
mean jokes- The problem isn't your sense of humor, it's the hidden intention of that cutting joke. "The covert narcissist enjoys making malicious remarks at your expense. These are usually dressed up as 'just jokes' so that they can get away with saying appalling things while still maintaining an innocent, cool demeanor. Yet any time you are outraged at an insensitive, harsh remark, you are accused of having no sense of humor," the therapist says.
Don't let the office abuser gaslight you into thinking it was all innocent fun--it wasn't.
Triangulation - One of the smartest ways truly toxic people distract you from their nastiness is by focusing your attention on the supposed threat of another person. This is called triangulation. "The narcissist loves to 'report back' falsehoods about what others say about you," the therapist warns. To resist the tactic, realize that the third party in the drama is being manipulated as well--he or she is another victim, not your enemy.
You can also try "reverse triangulation," or "gaining support from a third party that is not under the narcissist's influence."
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A LONG ASS LIST OF TIPS FOR HIGH SCHOOL: FRESHMAN TO SENIOR YEAR LETS GO
Disclaimer: This is just from my experience, so these might not all apply to you!
Freshman Year
ok, ok, freshman year can be scary but don’t let that get to you
dont worry about upperclassmen being rude/teasing you
it’ll most likely happen, but I’ve never seen an upperclassman tease a freshman with the intention to really hurt them
one day you’ll be them so dw
on the topic of upperclassmen, make some older friends!!! (through classes, sports, etc.) it’s so nice to have someone give you tips and help you through high school
dont expect your friend group to stay the same lol
BUT ITS A GOOD THING I PROMISE YOU
I was scared of changing my friend group, so even though I wasn’t being treated too well, it wasn’t until senior year when I really made a change and I wish I did it earlier
be open to meeting new people, everyone is scared just like you and looking for more friends
I don’t think its neccessary for freshman to become sUPER involved in clubs and all that but at least get a feel for whats out there
try out for a sport if you play one!
this goes for all of high school, not just freshman year, but I regret not being as involved as I could’ve been
Go to school events like football games and dances! School spirit is considered weird in middle school but its cool in high school
take your classes seriously, your teachers are right - high school is much harder than middle school (but it’s not too bad if you stay organized!)
my freshman year GPA was my lowest like english really caught me off guard (properly formatted, 5 paragraph essays being 50% of your grade??? a concept.)
so my cumulative GPA was brought down
I think most freshman don’t have access to AP classes to boost your GPA or anything, but if you’re looking to push yourself take an honors class or 2! (if available)
Sophomore Year
wooohooo ur no longer a freshman
I’d take at least 1 AP class if you can
my sophomore year I took AP Human Geo - which I really loved, and it also wasn’t too hard
a lot of sophomores take AP World which is a BITCH of a class
BUT I wouldn’t recommend taking Honors World because you don’t get the GPA boost, you don’t get college credits (unless you take the AP Euro test or something), and it’s almost just as hard
this is a bit random - but when you’re taking Algebra 2 (which was my sophomore year) PLS PAY ATTENTION math builds on itself don’t fuck yourself over
take the PSAT if you want (I honestly don’t remember if I took it freshman year too but eh), but seriously its not required
start thinking about college (I know it’s the last thing you want to do)
just little things like
when do I want to take the SAT/ACT?
would I like a small school or a big school?
What will I be able to put on my college applications?
like if you do community service through a club/church/etc then great!!! sports? YEs
can’t think of anything? Join a club! Try out for a sport (it’s not too late) Find something that interests you
you’re probably pretty situated socially now but never be afraid to get to know those classmates/”school friends” better!
Junior Year
so junior year is commonly thought of as the hardest year of highschool
which is partially true (we’ll get there later)
but anyways, seriously buckle your seatbelt and get ready to work your ass off because THIS YEAR COUNTS, LADIES AND GENTS
Take AP classes if available
I took AP Psych (WOULD HIGHLY RECOMMEND) and Honors PreCalc (coming from regular Algebra 2)
Psych gave me college credit and a GPA boost
HPC gave me a GPA boost for UCs
It was a bitCH of a class but it made AP calc a breeze
If you haven’t started already, start prepping for SAT/ACT and then take them
tutoring is very helpful, but it can be expensive
I’ve seen studyblrs post about free prep through Kahn Academy and other stuff, so you might have to do a bit of digging but there are tons of resources out there
TAKE PRACTICE TESTS
take one of each first - then focus on the test you did better on
one of my biggest regrets is taking SAT prep instead of ACT prep because my ACT (which I didn’t do specialized prep for) ended up equivalent to my SAT (which I did prep for)
the more you take em the better you get
Studyblr is gr8 for finding test taking tips
If you’re not happy with your score, just take it again! I only took each one once but most people improve their scores if they take it again
I recommend visiting a few universities when you’re on break! Get a feel for what you like and what you don’t like (size, location, public/private, etc) and what kind of school you could get accepted to
you don’t want to end up applying to a billion schools that you wouldn’t even want to go to
private schools like it when you express interest by visiting
so if you’re visiting, make sure you check in so you can be in their system
END OF JUNIOR YEAR - ASK FOR LETTERS OF REC NOW! BY THE FIRST WEEK OF SENIOR YEAR A LOT OF TEACHERS ARE ALREADY TAKING ON TOO MANY LETTERS!
Senior Year (buckle up this section is the longest)
but YAY UR A SENIOR
DO FUN SENIOR YEAR THINGS like my school has all kinds of events for seniors and it’s so great
Remember when I said junior year is the hardest? Yeah well no... 1st semester senior year is SO MUCH WORSE ur in for a lot of fun
Ok seriously - don’t let senioritis get to you first semester
Still take challenging classes! Schools are looking for progression in difficulty
Those mid year transcripts REALLY DO MATTER!
College apps, man
Make sure you’re communicating with your counselor to make sure you have everything ready and on track
like file the FAFSA and CSS (used for lots of privates)
tbh I didn’t think it would help me a lot but it (the CSS) actually did so just do it even if you think you’ll get nothing
Ok so hopefully at this point you have a feel for what schools you are interested in
Things to consider: location, price, size, public/private, difficulty of the application, ranking, program/major you are applying to, campus, overall vibe
I didn’t do any interviews but maybe look into it
Don’t get too comfortable and set reasonable goals - apply to several safety schools, a few good options/could go either way schools, but also a few “reaches”
ESSAYS
I’m no college counselor, but don’t just wing your essays without having an adult/professional look over them
I got lucky - my mom is a professional writer so my family didn’t pay for a counselor
Do your research - you can find so much information about what schools are looking for in essays
If an essay is “optional” DO IT it’s really not optional lol
Keep in mind - these essays are nothing like what you’ve been taught. You don’t have to (and often SHOULDNT) write a 5 paragraph essay with topic sentences relating back to the thesis and evidence, etc. its much more free
think “What is the story I am going to tell?”
get creative - this is hard and takes some time
Think: How am I going to separate myself from thousands of applicants? What is a story that ONLY I can tell?
DO EARLY ACTION FOR AS MANY SCHOOLS AS POSSIBLE!!!
such a relief to knowing you got in somewhere in like,,,, november
acceptance rates are higher for EA
the order from highest to lowest is ED > EA > RD
Early Decision scares me (schools will say they give equal scholarship consideration but lol thats a lie)
but if you have your heart set on a school go ahead
apply to other school just in case, you don’t want to get stuck starting all your apps when a lot of students have already turned them all in
Now that you’re done with applications (whew), the acceptances (and rejection) will start coming!! yay!
ok first for acceptances
those first acceptances are so cool like YAY YOU GOT INTO COLLEGE IM PROUD OF U
as soon as you get your first acceptances really start researching the school more and deciding if you’d REALLY want to go there or not
i know this is hard bc you haven't heard back from all your schools but it’ll make choosing a school so much easier
sadly, not all acceptances are happy tho
like I got accepted to my #1 school but they gave me no money so it was impossible to go
I was so emo for a couple days there
BUT! If you’re serious about it, try appealing for financial aid but keep your expectations low
ok now waitlists
these can be a bit nerve wracking
PLEASE apply for the waitlist right away
at some schools if you dont within a couple days, your application might get thrown out
aaaaand rejections
i dont have a lot to say about this but please dont be too hard on yourself
sometimes its just not meant to be and thats ok!
NOW PICKING A COLLEGE
def the most difficult and mentally draining part for me lol
make sure you really map out everything to consider
net cost (tuition, room & board, books, travel, personal expenses, etc.), size, location, etc.
I personally had this idea that I’d end up at a big school far from home but I’m going to a small school close to home and I’m still super excited!!! So make sure you give every school a second look
APPLY FOR SCHOLARSHIPS!
the essays aren’t usually too bad and sometimes you can just rework your college app essays
you can find them online, your school might have some (like PTA scholarships, band scholarships, etc.)
ok this is the time everyone really gets senioritis
i almost didn’t get senioritis at all lol just because slacking off stressed me out
but please be smart about it dont get rescinded
and lastly have fun! high school really does fly by, it’ll be over before you know it
#lol the senior year part is so much longer than the others#studyblr#high school#high school tips#study tips#studyspo#study motivation
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2020 DNC Candidates’ Answers to the Healthcare Crisis
The conversation among 2020 candidates surrounding the future of American healthcare has been confusing, convoluted, heated, and all over the place. I’ll try to be as succinct as possible with my points so as not to add too much to the noise. I mostly want to draw attention to the differences and similarities between the healthcare strategies of Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren.
The important difference has been in the specific wording of the discussion, so I will boil the two messages down with relevant, specific wording: Bernie Sanders’ stated goal is to remove private health insurance companies from our healthcare apparatus, replacing the current system with what is known as a Single-Payer system, as is currently in place in Canada, the United Kingdom, the Nordic countries, Spain, Australia, and South Korea, among others. One of the reasons the conversation around Bernie’s plan has been confusing is that people run into the discord between the idea of his goal and the idea that Medicare as it currently exists now would hypothetically be extended to everybody, a case which would not effectively be a single-payer system.
The name of Sanders’ bill is “Medicare For All”, but the plan includes a lot of restructuring that most importantly removes premiums and co-pays from the current Medicare system, instituting a full single-payer system, i.e. Medicare currently has some of the sticky pitfalls of the current system he seeks to replace, but Sanders’ final intention is that if you, a patient, go to your doctor, or the emergency room, or a specialist for any treatment, you simply receive the treatment and then walk out of the building straight to your car in the parking-lot and drive away without having to mess with any financial details (that isn’t to say the service is “Free” as some detractors might believe or mislead you to believe -- it is simply that the rigmarole of finalizing payment is handled wholly by the gears of the system in the background instead of handled personally by the patient, i.e. it’s not free lunch so much as bureaucratic shuffling around of paperwork).
Sanders’ reasoning for switching to single-payer is essentially that the profit-motive as an operating concept, ethically speaking, does not belong in the healthcare system, i.e. the model similar to Coca-Cola or Ford or Apple where the overall goal is for the company to make a financial return on investment: Ford’s bean counters, marketers, and product development teams come together to design and manufacture a product, they calculate the cost of the product, then they price the product higher than it cost them to make it so they can end up with more capital than they started with. Sanders believes on principle that if it costs $40 to fix a broken arm, then the bill for fixing the broken arm should come to $40, and further that the person with the broken arm should not be bothered with the paperwork relevant to this cost on their way out the door -- this vision is impossible if there are corporations like Ford or Apple or Netflix in charge of handling the bureaucratic ins and outs of processing healthcare costs, because there is always a middle-man-entity with a board of executives whose primary concern is making a return on the investment, and these institutions as they exist put the bureaucratic load on the patient in terms of handling the details of cost and payment, i.e. writing checks, handling invoices, making phone calls to finalize and organize the details between institutions, etc.
I want to start discussing Warren’s approach with spelling out her stated goals and how the wording specifically differs from Sanders’: whereas Sanders’ goal is to institute a single-payer system removing health insurance companies from the process, Warren’s stated goal is: “Universal coverage at the lowest possible cost.” If you are already familiar with some of the differently-worded strategies, approaches, and plans for addressing the healthcare crisis, this fundamental difference may already show important ways the two candidates are taking different approaches, but don’t worry if it isn’t obvious as I will elaborate why the wording is important.
The discussion around Elizabeth Warren’s approach to healthcare has been confusing for several reasons, but one of the main reasons is that she has stated she supports Medicare For All when there are some gotchas in the fine print that call into question what exactly this means. We will come back to why this isn’t as simple as it sounds, but first I will take a slight detour explaining why this is relevant to another candidate: Kamala Harris does not currently support a single-payer system like Sanders and does not support removing private insurers from the system, even though Harris was a co-sponsor on Bernie’s original bill. Compared to the rest of the candidates, it has been particularly confusing pinning Harris’ campaign down on what she really believes to be the way forward because Harris has answered one way and then contradicted herself in subsequent interviews answering differently the next day, for various reasons that may or may not be her fault but instead due to confusion in the way candidates are asked questions about their plans. Harris has since clarified her approach by officially proposing her own plan that is different from Sanders’ single-payer plan, keeping private health insurers in the system, but she introduces extra confusion in calling it a “Medicare For All” plan. So Sanders was previously able to set himself apart as a candidate with a unique approach, simply pointing prospective voters to his Medicare For All plan, but now that situation is more complicated, because Harris can look in the camera and say confidently, “I support Medicare For All” or “I support a Medicare For All system” when it technically means something completely different when she says these words. This could be misconstrued as being even more confusing by accusing her of hedging bets on two different approaches, but this isn’t really the case as it is important to note since Bernie’s original bill will not be passed, in a sense it’s irrelevant who has co-sponsored it, and so we can defer to where candidates stand currently--and specifically where Harris stands currently with her own new plan--as canceling out previous support/co-sponsoring for Sanders’ single-payer approach.
Warren has stated for the record that she supports Medicare For All. Looking at the case of Kamala Harris, we can see why saying such a thing does not necessarily translate to sharing Sanders’ goals. Like Harris, Warren was also a co-sponsor for Sanders’ original Medicare For All bill, but again, looking at the case of Harris, we can see why this doesn’t translate to Warren literally sharing Sanders’ exact goals. In discussions that I’ve seen in the media and on various social media platforms, this is where a lot of confusion, arguing, name-calling, and hostility arise: there is a contingency of voters who support Sanders’ goals who want to know definitively whether Warren shares those goals or might instead be led to diverge with more moderate proposals that are similar to those of other moderate candidates.
Some heated comments read like this: “Why are Sanders supporters either daft or intent on sowing discord: it is clear that both Liz and Bernie support Medicare for All. Their plans are the same. Stop pretending like his plan is somehow better when she has said on record that she supports Medicare For All.” -- For reasons already stated, you can see why this statement is problematic, either misunderstanding or misconstruing the conversation as it relates to their approaches.
If stating support for M4A wasn’t a confusing enough issue, Warren unfortunately confuses the matter further by consistently stating, regarding her stated goal of “Universal Coverage” that “there are many paths to get there.”
An interviewer specifically asked: “Is there room for private health insurance in your vision of the ideal American health care system?”
She answered: “Our obligation is to make sure that everybody gets coverage at the lowest possible cost to all of us. So what does that mean? Right now, it means fighting the Republicans who are trying to sabotage the Affordable Care Act. So job number one is to defend the Affordable Care Act. ...Job number two is to make changes where we need to make them right now: changes to hold insurance companies accountable and lower[ing] the cost of prescription drugs. ...And the third: how do we get universal coverage? Medicare for all. Lots of paths for how to do that. But we know where we are aiming: every American has health care at a price they can afford, and that the overall costs in the system are held as low as possible.”
Rightly not getting the impression that Warren had satisfied his question directly, the interviewer asks again, “But right now, your vision for Medicare for all, would it all be a public option, or would it also include private insurance?”
She answered, “So right now, there are multiple bills on the floor in the United States Senate. I’ve signed onto Medicare for All. I’ve signed on to another one that gives an option for buying in to Medicaid. There are different ways we can get there. But the key has to be always keep the center of the bulls-eye in mind, and that is affordable health care for every American.” This answer similarly evades the actual question as it was worded.
As someone who supports Sanders’ vision of instituting a single-payer system in America, and someone who is very much interested in supporting any/all candidates who display a similar willingness to fight for the well-being of citizens over corporate interests, I am NOT trying to paint Warren into some kind of wily “gotcha” corner in a clumsy attempt to discredit her or sabotage her campaign -- I simply feel: 1) she has been consistently, purposefully evasive in signaling whether or not she would fight as hard as Sanders for Sanders’ specific gold-standard, 2) this evasiveness, while strategically understandable, is unnecessary, and 3) the resulting confusion in and of itself is not only damaging to her campaign in muddying the healthcare conversation but also calls into question her overall integrity as it relates to any other given issue or plan in any other area of policy. If she is someone who wants the bar raised as high as Bernie’s aims and is also willing to fight for it as hard as Bernie, then I want to be able to shout from the rooftops my support for her as clearly and fullheartedly as I do for Sanders’ campaign, but I am frustrated by the consistently misleading media narrative that they are two peas in a pod on this issue when there’s obviously room for contention between the goals and approaches of the two, and I honestly cannot tell whether or not she will lower the bar mirroring the incrementalist approaches of other moderate candidates.
When Warren says, “Universal coverage at the lowest possible cost,” it could be the case that she doesn’t include a single-payer system within her idea of what is “possible” -- if the “lowest possible cost” in her view is the cost we can achieve by introducing a Public Option instead of instituting a single-payer system, then it is the case that her views differ considerably from Sanders’. If Warren wants to then argue as many other candidates have argued that the lowest cost we can “possibly” achieve is via introducing a public option into the current system, the problem is two-fold: 1) the math will always prove this argument as technically wrong, since a single-payer system would hypothetically always cost less than the current system, ergo 2) the argument essentially comes down to what is “achievable” or what is “possible” within the American political system, which is a rhetorical point that merely comes around to what people are willing to fight for, in other words, how high we are willing to set the bar; to argue that setting the bar as high as single-payer is not achievable is a self-fulfilling prophecy and a rhetorical point that merely reveals the mettle of the politician fighting for their preferred reforms.
There are some Warren supporters who prefer her approach over Sanders’ because it seems that she might be willing to take a more incrementalist approach such as a public option, that she might be willing to postpone universal coverage (indefinitely?) as she considers it “Job #3” after Job #1 of restoring ACA and Job #2 passing other pieces of regulatory legislation. The worst case scenario would be that she 1) deprioritizes “Universal coverage” as a long-term-nice-to-have, and 2) that her definition of “Universal coverage” is the same as Obama’s (Romney’s?): an individual mandate for every citizen to sign up for something within the current broken system. If this is the case, how is her healthcare approach any different than Buttigieg or Biden? and how do the supporters and talking heads get away with suggesting that Sanders and Warren have solidarity on the issue? And how do the Warren supporters that believe Bernie and Warren have identical approaches manage to miss the Warren supporters that prefer her approach because it’s not the same Bernie’s?
My intent is not to debate single-payer vs public option. I don’t even discredit altogether the notion that a public option could be construed as a “step towards” single-payer (though I think this is extremely problematic, it’s a whole different discussion). My intent isn’t to paint Warren in a negative light, or sow division among democratic voters, or institute a “purity test”. If where Warren’s head’s at right now is, “I’m not sold on fighting for single-payer,”...I just want to know. If where Warren’s head’s at right now is, “I’m not sold on fighting for single-payer, and as a strategy for my presidential run I want the record to be a little muddy right now because I believe it will help me secure the nomination as well as a victory against Trump”...then I not only disagree, I respect her a bit less. But my point is: I don’t know where her head’s at...nobody seems to know...because that’s just where the conversation is right now...and I find it frustrating.
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