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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months

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i dream, now, of a normal life with you ; suguru geto

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content.

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways.

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk

you: …… um. you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug.

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes.

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics.

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds.

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here!

and there he is.

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor.

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence.

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky.

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it.

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder.

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now.

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes.

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely.

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…”

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss.

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm.

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental.

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers.

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ��don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours.

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat.

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real.

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat.

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.”

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears.

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough.

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him.

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend.

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day.

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?”

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever.

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace.

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more.

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more.

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you.

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming.

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved.

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about.

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him.

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are.

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever.

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him.

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue.

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling.

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat.

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take.

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind.

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead.

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable.

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover.

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done.

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise.

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face.

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement.

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks.

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you.

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause.

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork.

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking.

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever.

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently.

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend.

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know.

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

#finalllyyyyyyy took the time to finish this r u proud of me 👉👈#im very very soft for this sugu in particular :< kinda takes place in the same universe as the breakfast sugu fic !!!!#he’s ur smitten husband-to-be <333 i love to see suguru geto thrive and be happy i think being a househusband could save him #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #jjk fluff #geto fluff #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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thatgirlonstage · 1 year

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Re: whether or not Miles actually has the real Mona Lisa: while it being the real thing does provide greater commentary I propose to you that the painting being fake unlocks the potential for a short film about the horrified and pissed off Louvre employees who can’t believe they’ve been asked to turn over The Mona Lisa to this guy scrambling to put together a fake and hide the real one. In terms of the commentary, you can even have your cake and eat it too, if the French government agrees to loan it out bc billionaire corruption and so it’s the average museum employees lying through their teeth to the government and risking felony offenses to protect the art.

My proposed cast of characters:

1. The elderly curator who’s forgotten more about da Vinci and renaissance art than most people learn in a lifetime, was mentored by a dude who smuggled art out of France to hide it from the Nazis and the second he sees the request from miles is like “M. Laurent did not get shot in the leg by a Nazi shithead for me to simply hand over Joconde to this idiot, he would crawl out of his grave and murder me himself and he would be right to do so”

2. The art conservation and repair expert who has worked on the Mona Lisa personally for the past decade, knows her better than just about anyone else in the world, one of probably like three people alive who’s allowed to actually touch her, comes across as high strung and business like but has the deepest and most genuine love for the art pieces and is fiercely dedicated above all else to the idea that art belongs to EVERYBODY, that her job is not the preservation of art for art’s sake but the preservation of art for future generations to see and fall in love with just like she did

3. The 18-year-old who was supposed to be here on an internship except The Covids Happened and now they’re in a bizarre employment limbo where they are sort of still interning but the actual job is not at all what it was supposed to be. Enthusiastically anarchic and socialist and almost concerningly Down For Crime

Together they have to team up for a mini heist-like adventure to convince Miles Bron and the French government that they are handing over the real Mona Lisa while engaging in shenanigans to keep the real thing safe and hidden

#knives out #glass onion #glass onion spoilers

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vashtijoy · 2 months

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have you seen the commentary from the p5r artbook going around? the shuake part of my dash is losing it a bit at the implication that their wishes were mutual!!! that seems to be what some people are getting from the commentary at least… amy insights?

Hi! I have been through the artbook. It's great, isn't it? :D

The image above is called "One Ending", and the creator caption (by illustrator Akane Kabayashi) reads:

When I think about how Akechi's wish was to play chess after school with the protagonist, I almost want to call him out with "You liked him after all, didn't you!"

Look at that. We're told about Akechi's wish, and what it included. We're as good as told outright that he likes Joker—and this isn't the only time, there's also this:

—There are a whole lot of things we can imagine, based on how the protagonist was depicted as someone special to Akechi. Those are more or less the exact emotions represented during Akechi's confidant. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)

"someone special" here is 特別な存在 tokubetsuna sonzai—literally "a special presence". It means a special person, and more than that; it describes someone you find compelling, someone you can't look away from, someone who becomes one of your most important people, the centre of your world. It's another term that is often romantic, but isn't necessarily romantic.

(In the same way, I think Kabayashi's suki jan! is more tongue-in-cheek than it is a cast-iron confirmation that Akechi was canonly in love with Joker. The language there is teasing, it's ambiguous, it's baity; Kabayashi is joking. This is a rank 6—as they say, if you know, you know. But it is of course ultimately up to all of you.)

There's another mention of this image, down in the creator interview:

Out of all the Maruki ending illustrations, it was Akechi's that stuck with me the most. It made such an impression to see them opening up as friends, having a fun, peaceful time together like high school students should. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)

What really strikes me in all of this is the emphasis the creators put on the fact that this is Akechi's illustration, Akechi's wish. Because I've thought for a while that we know Akechi has a wish. You can see him struggling with his refusals to Maruki in the first week of January. And you can hear his wish spoken—when Maruki repeats it back to him, during the boss fight, on 2/3:

Maruki {F1 81}君たちとなら、君も過ちのない道を歩めるかも知れないじゃないか！ {F1 81}-kun-tachi to nara, kimi mo ayamachi no nai michi o ayumeru kamoshirenai ja nai ka! If you're with {F1 81}―kun and his friends, you could begin to atone for what you've done! Think about it! With [Amamiya]-kun and his friends beside you, you could choose a path with no mistakes as well!

So this wish has several parts. First, there's that kimi mo, "you also"; it's tempting to read this as Maruki also wanting his new world to erase his past mistakes. Second, there's the first part, "if you're with [Amamiya]-kun and his friends". Where to even start here?

Being with Joker and the others is a prerequisite for the second half of Akechi's wish. It doesn't just coexist, it enables the rest of it. Just like his words in the engine room, "I wonder why we couldn't have met a few years earlier, [Ren]..."

Remember, Akechi's whole arc is about his rejection of trust and friendship, and his insistence on doing everything himself. This is precisely what Futaba calls him out on—"you trusted no one", or "you played life in single-player mode". This is what he unlearns at the climax of the engine room, when he realises he isn't prepared to let the others die—and follows through to save them.

Akechi is nothing without others, and he knows it. Without their support, which he believes he has no right to, he has no hope of living a better life, even were he to be given the chance—and he knows that, too. He has learned, and he has grown—and yet he knows the things he needs and wants so badly are forever inaccessible.

And his wish is about all the Phantom Thieves, not just Joker. There are many tiny references to this end—not least the original Japanese rank 10 line for his confidant, where he sacrifices himself for all of you. Joker is his compelling presence, his someone special, but he's formed small bonds with the others too, God help him.

and then there's the crime thing

The localisation frames Akechi's wish in terms of atonement, but that's not what's on offer. You cannot, after all, atone for things you never did. We see Akechi's wish put into practice, in the Maruki ending, where he appears with his friends beside him, wholly innocent and with unstained hands. And we see it in the first week of January, after he has finally met Maruki and spoken to him:

Akechi: Ah, that reminds me—there was one more thing I wanted to tell you. Akechi: About the reality Maruki's put us in... Akechi: It seems that Okumura and Wakaba are both considered alive by all accounts. [Ren: They're not dead anymore? / What do you mean?] Akechi: They aren't mere illusions, or cognitive beings—they truly are alive and existing in this world. Akechi: In fact, their deaths seem to have never taken place at all in this reality. [Ren: What happened to Shido?] Akechi: Shido was the only one arrested on the crime of attempting to overthrow the government... Akechi: It seems the Phantom Thieves were causing a stir in this society as well, but there's no record of your arrest now. Akechi: Basically, in this reality, you and I haven't committed any crimes.

While Akechi still remembers his crimes, they never took place. They have been undone, and only his lingering memory—and Joker's, at this point—speaks to them. He objects to this on countless levels, he summons all the strength he has to refuse it, but don't make the mistake of thinking that means he doesn't want it. This is Akechi's wish in action.

People are often very certain that Akechi's resolve in the third semester is like iron—that he rejects Maruki's offers right away, is never tempted, never wavers. But that can't be true. We know he's afraid to die. We know about the bad end where you don't complete the Palace, where Akechi says nothing and stares at the floor, seemingly blaming himself internally while all the others blame themselves aloud, for being unable to say no to Maruki's temptations. We know how he responds to this assertion of Maruki's—Maruki, who has perfectly summed up what we know all the other PTs wanted, and who (even if Word of God hadn't just confirmed Akechi's wish) we have, honestly, no reason to doubt.

Because Akechi never refutes this wish that Maruki describes. He never says he doesn't want it. He just rejects it—like all the others, who so desperately want what Maruki could give them. Futaba's mother, Haru's father. Akechi's life, and his innocence. And the people who might have been his friends, if he could dare, one day, to ask.

Akechi is tested just like the others, and the price he pays for his defiance is perhaps the highest of all.

and finally

[The Maruki ending illustrations are] of Maruki's world, where everyone's wishes are granted and they seem happy. The scene shows their actualised wishes, which were never granted in the real world. (Mumon Usuda, chief designer)

We shouldn't forget the price Akechi pays for his impossible wish. Sure, the vision of himself being altered like Sumire clearly haunts him, and I'm sure it made the choice easier—but I don't think it made it that easy. Instead of taking the dream Maruki offered him, Akechi chose to face up to what he'd done, and who he'd become; at the very end, in the third semester and in the engine room, he always makes the right choice.

And that choice was taken away from him. Agency over his life and death, his own acts, and who he would even be—Joker and Maruki take it all away from him and make him a puppet, just like Shido.

Maruki's ending isn't pretty.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2024/03/29)—first published.

#asks #persona 5 #p5 meta #things i translate #japanese language #word of god #shuake #goro akechi #takuto maruki

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saviorpilled · 1 year

Text

genloss being a commentary on streaming/content creation is so fucking cool to me and its. really making me just look at the internet a little bit differently like

ive dreamed of being a streamer and/or youtuber since i was like six years old but only now at eighteen am i really seeing just how like. dirty and imperfect this industry is.

hetch not allowing ranboo to remove their mask because it would end the show, people only indulging in the mystery of what ranboo looks like underneath. if the mask comes off that means hes fulfilled his role and people have their answers. theyd turn off their tvs and move on now that their mystery is solved. its even more wild when thinking abt that and then going to tiktok or twitter and seeing people freak out over seeing just a bit of his cheek through the hole in his mask during the finale

or how we saw people streaming out of FAST FOOD RESTAURANTS in a mall food court. yknow. places where food is made quickly and cheaply on demand. charlie's stream to me felt like a combination of a few things: mockery of youtuber apologies/the insincerity behind a lot of creators who do bad shit, the need for money (he was asking for subs a lot and asking people for money essentially) bc content creation is NOT always a stable job, and he was literally reacting to colors. its a show of how people will tune into anything their favorite streamers do just because

AND. the people that made appearances? THEY WERE CAST AS THEMSELVES. in the second episode their descriptors were literally things that define them as creators (niki's being "nice" and austin's being "gay"). they were taken from their lives, stripped of everything other than a few barebone traits, and forced into the show. its how creators are so often dehumanized and seen as nothing but entertainment for their audiences

i feel sick /pos ranboo is fucking incredible.

#bowieposting #genloss #generation loss #ranboo #long post #sorry i keep thinking abt this its so fucking insane #ranboo is such a talented person

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k0juki · 29 days

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Hiii!!

Could you please do a one-shot with jealous! Kimi? Maybe during an interview, he's already had enough and wants to leave, but after seeing a journalist or somebody else trying to flirt with his gf (they both agreed to keep their relationship private), he loses it and once he goes up to her after telling that guy to get lost, he physically relaxes and basically melts to her touch...forgetting that they were surrounded by cameras that had just recorded every second of the exchange.

I'd like to imagine how the other drivers and the fans in general would react to that :))

Thanxx <3

Yur!!!🧊 Sorry it took me too so long...school is pain.

His girl

Kimi Räikkönen x fem!reader

English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!

More stuff here!

Words: 573

---

It wasn't strange to see Kimi annoyed. Most people that worked with him knew how he could get and this was no different. But what annoys him the most are only two things.

Firstly, not winning the race and media being dick about it and secondly, when anyone flirts with his girl. Of course nobody knows that you are together, but still, it makes his Finnish blood boil.

And let's just say that today wasn't his best day at all. Not only he fucked up the rece, but as the interview progressed, Kimi patience wore thinner with each passing question. He'd had enough of the same inquiries, the same stupid questions and the same attempts to extract emotions from him that he preferred to keep hidden. Yet, he maintained his ice cool demeanor, answering tersely but efficiently.

However, his face cracked when he caught a glimpse of someone leaning a bit too close to his girlfriend, Y/n, who was standing just a few feet away, watching the interview with a supportive smile that he loves. She is his safe place. When something happens, he knows that he can go to her. To make him feel loved.

And when he heard the journalist's flirtatious tone and lingering gaze he held on her, made Kimi's blood boil beneath his calm exterior. In a rare moment of unfiltered emotion, Kimi abruptly ended the interview, muttering something about needing a break and with determined strides, he made his way over to Y/n, who looked surprised at his sudden approach.

"Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, concern evident in her voice, but Kimi ignored her question and pulled her into his arms possessively, caging her in and casting a sharp glare at the journalist who had dared to encroach on his territory. His girl.

"Get lost" he growled, the words were laced with a dangerous edge and it almost sounded like a threat. Once the unwanted intruder had retreated, Kimi felt a wave of relief wash over him. His tense muscles gradually relaxed as he buried his face in Y/n's hair, inhaling her familiar scent that he loves so much.

The anger started to melt away and was replaced by a sense of calm and contentment that only she could bring him. Unbeknownst to Kimi, their intimate moment had been captured by the surrounding cameras, broadcasting his uncharacteristic display of jealousy to the world.

Among the other drivers, reactions varied. Some were surprised, having never seen this side of Kimi before, while others like Sebastian just gave a knowing look, he understood the depth of Kimi's feelings for Y/n. As for the fans, social media and everyone else erupted with speculation and commentary.

"I think everyone knows that we are together now." You murmured against him. His strong arms still wrapped around you.

"Yeah, but at least they won't be flirting with you before my eyes."

---

In the days that followed, Kimi and Y/n found themselves surrounded by an outpouring of support and affection from fans, friends, and fellow drivers. Despite initially feeling exposed by the public display of their relationship, they soon realized that it had only brought them closer together.

As they retreated to the quiet sanctuary of their home, Kimi and Y/n reveled in the simple joys of each other's company. They shared laughter, tender moments and whispered words of love that were meant for each other's ears alone.

---

Requests are open!

Don't copy or translate my work! Also the picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!

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kintatsujo · 9 days

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I stg the reactions I keep seeing to the Dungeon Meshi "What else could you call the short-lived races" comic has me half ready to write a reading comprehension worksheet

Mithrun isn't being any more racist than any of the other characters in the short, and you could argue he's being the second least racist after the characters without speaking lines because he's not the one who was making fun of the idea of calling people what they'd prefer to be called

Dude literally got asked without context "what's another thing you could call the short-lived races" and said the quiet part everyone else was dancing around out loud because he doesn't have the capacity to be embarrassed about it; it doesn't actually have anything to do with how he actually sees tallmen, halfoots, etcetera.

Fleki especially is basically being your conservative coworker making fun of Juneteenth being a thing.

The reason all the other Canaries are shocked at Mithrun is entirely because they basically fucked around and found out that he doesn't have a filter the way they do anymore.

Anyway the point is, the comic is about a very specific phenomenon that white people do when they think no one in the room cares (and I assume privileged conservative types in other cultures do as well) it's not about specifically Mithrun being more racist than anyone else

(please note also literally fucking everyone in Dungeon Meshi has something they're casually racist about. Half the cast thinks Chilchuck is a baby. Kabru called demihumans "savages." This comic has a lot of social commentary dammit and the characters having bigotries they haven't examined is part of that.)

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #meta #Come the fuck on is it because y'all are teenagers and you've never heard break room bigotry? Please tell me it's that #Mithrun #note: I am a white people who has had to shut down this kind of shit in break rooms many times I know what I'm talking about

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jayflrt · 7 months

Text

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 28. 12th date’s the charm

YOU COULDN’T STAY CALM.

You were waiting for Saw X’s stupid post-credit scene to wrap up while your foot was tapping against the carpet floor anxiously. After you slipped up in the group chat, calling Heeseung your boyfriend, you could only wait and face the consequences after the movie. It was clear it was weighing on the others’ minds; you could see the corner of Sunoo’s mouth fighting to stay down, and although Sunghoon and Jungwon were high, you noticed them stealing a glance and playfully nudging each other.

But it was Heeseung you were the most concerned about.

His reaction was the most important one to you and, as if the world hated you, his reaction was the only one you couldn’t read. He sat completely still, staring ahead at the theater screen with his lips pressed together.

The screen went dark and the end-credits started rolling. Now, you had to deal with the aftermath of your text. It was one thing to let the word out loud, but over text? If you were able to unsend that message without anyone reading it before it went through, you would’ve.

Then, a horrifying realization struck you.

After you and Heeseung parted ways with Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo, you two would have to sit in a car together. Alone.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach.

It was clear that Heeseung had feelings for you. He was the one pining after you from the beginning, after all—having the entire workplace be aware of his (initially delusional) crush on you.

For some reason, though, you were still restless.

“I think I would just let my life end if John Kramer put me in one of those traps,” Sunoo blurted out as soon as your group exited the theater. You and Heeseung were finishing the last of your popcorn behind him.

“I’d survive it,” Sunghoon said. “I’m built different.”

Heeseung nudged you with his elbow, taking you by surprise. “Did you like the movie?”

You scrunched up your nose. “I don’t usually like gore, but I liked the story before they all started dying.”

Everyone turned their attention to Jungwon, who was strangely quiet. The guy was fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater, eyes cast down to the floor.

Sunoo asked, “You good?”

“He’s gonna get me,” Jungwon mumbled.

“Oh my god.” Sunghoon groaned. “For the last time, Jungwon, John Kramer’s a fictional character.”

“He’s real in my head.”

Heeseung let out a snicker. For every single date following your first failed one, Heeseung swore to stay completely sober so that his high wouldn’t interfere with your dates. You thought it was cute that he committed to it for you, but part of you also wanted to take care of him for once.

“Yeah, get this guy home. He’s gone,” Heeseung said, patting Jungwon’s back firmly. “Hoon, you’ve gotta stop spiking him.”

Sunghoon frowned. “Why do you think I spiked him?”

“Motherfucker,” Jungwon spoke up, raising his head with a sudden fire in his eyes, “I wouldn’t be this high right now if you didn’t leave your stupid cannabis-infused pretzels out on your table.”

“You also wouldn’t be this high if you didn’t steal my pretzels, so I don’t get why you’re complaining.”

“Didn’t he also accidentally drink your cannabis-infused coffee the other week?” Sunoo recalled, grimacing as he remembered Jungwon walking into Starbucks and attempting to order a cheese burger.

“Before that was the cannabis-infused Rice Krispy,” Heeseung mentioned.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop trusting whatever’s in Hoon’s fridge,” you told him, “or just anything that’s remotely edible around him.”

After some more commentary on the movie was shared, Heeseung made up some excuse about needing to get you home before it got too dark. The two of you had gone on dates that lasted well into the night, so your heart fluttered pathetically at the thought of him wanting to be alone with you.

You said your goodbyes to the three boys, reminding them to get home safe, and you and Heeseung parted ways with the group. It was cool outside, but you felt like your entire body was hot and buzzing as you remembered that being alone with Heeseung meant that he could potentially interrogate you about your accidental ‘boyfriend’ text.

He did nothing of the sort on the walk to his car. You and him cracked jokes about John Kramer all the way to the parking garage, and you started to feel the tightness in your chest unravel slowly.

That was, until you reached Heeseung’s car.

Instead of unlocking the doors, Heeseung’s hands slid into the pockets of his gray sweatpants as he leaned against the exterior of the car—right in front of the passenger door. You blinked at him, wondering if he was going to move, but he just held direct eye contact with you as the corner of his lip curled in amusement.

He cut straight to the point, saying, “So, your text…”

“My typo,” you corrected with an awkward grin.

He hummed. “No, you clearly typed ‘my boyfriend’ in the group chat.”

Your heart was racing. You could feel your pulse in your neck, your arms—every body part that was buzzing uncontrollably. This wasn’t how you wanted to confess to him. Not in a damn group chat, at least.

“Well, you’re not my boyfriend yet. You��re gonna be my passenger princess if you don’t hurry up and get in the car,” you started rambling faster than you could think, words spilling out before you were even able to properly filter your thoughts. “I’m gonna drive us home, then.”

As soon as you turned to walk around to the other side of his car, Heeseung reached forward to grab your wrist. With a firm tug, he had you stumbling right into his chest.

And, oh, you never realized just how big he was.

“H-hey,” you stuttered out, looking up to catch the smirk playing on his lips. “You’re not playing fair.”

“We never decided on any rules.”

Then, your back was pressed against the frame of the car, the cool metal chilling your flushed skin. You swallowed hard as Heeseung towered over you, his hands gripping your waist to hold you in place. Your heart was beating erratically at this point, but you didn’t want to budge and let him win just yet.

Heeseung dropped his head so that his lips were by your ear. You swore he could pick up on the way your breathing hitched because of his low chuckle.

“Come on.” His voice was silky and velvet as he murmured against the shell of your ear. “Just let me ask you out already.”

Although his words were irresistibly tempting, you were firm when you said, “No. I need to be the one to ask you out, and I didn’t wanna do it like this.” Your hand moved up to play with the loose strands of his hair at his neck. “Just wait a tiny bit longer for me. Please?”

Heeseung sighed, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, I couldn’t ever say no to you, anyway.”

He pulled back to look down at you, still keeping his hands firm on your waist.

You held up your hand, making a pinching gesture with your pointer and thumb finger. “Just a little longer.”

“Mmhm,” he agreed. “Can I kiss you, though?”

Your face burned with the heat of a thousand suns. “K-kiss?”

“Like”—he poked your cheek—“right here.”

“Oh.” Still blushing furiously, you beamed and turned your cheek for him. “Go ahead, sir.”

With a soft giggle bubbling from his lips, Heeseung cupped your jaw gently so that he could press a chaste kiss to your cheek. He was dangerously close to your lips, and you knew that he intended on teasing you as much as possible.

Afterward, he pulled away and fished his keys out of his pockets. “I plan on kissing you for real once we’re dating, though.”

With that, he unlocked the car for you and walked over to the driver’s side. You had to catch your breath to regain your composure before you were able to get into the passenger’s seat.

On the way home, all you could think about were how pretty the stars were and how much prettier Heeseung was.

And, man, you really, really liked him.

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

#hi guys im making u read today 🤗#enhypen #enhypen smau #heeseung smau #heeseung fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines #lee heeseung #enhypen social media au #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #heeseung drabbles #enhypen reactions #heeseung reactions #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

idk if u listen to taylor swift but her song mastermind (which is kinda like maneuvering things around to get together with someone) would be so cool to read with TASM! Peter !! Maybe the reader realizes Peter is Spiderman after recognizing his voice and then tries her hardest to become Peter’s friend in school and kinda puts all the pieces together herself (+ the line ‘to assess the equation of you’ is so peter coded) also I feel like smart reader deserves more rep 😞 like no way she wouldn’t recognize his cocky ass voice

Again this is just like. Me spilling out my random thoughts 🤭 -🍁 (sorry for spam)

Hi lovely! I didn't stick to this very faithfully, but it did inspire an idea that I'd be remiss not to give you credit for! It's established relationship, where reader has figured out Peter is Spiderman (I agree she's not dumb and that needs to be regonized). Thank you <33

cw: a whiff of harassment (more of an attempt really, but if that will upset you please don't read)

tasm!Spiderman x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

It’s hard to feel totally vulnerable walking around the city at night when you know you’re never really by yourself. Peter thinks he’s so stealthy, but he can’t always avoid casting shadows on the street ahead of you; you were bound to catch onto his well-intentioned stalking eventually. You’re not totally sure why he doesn’t just walk you home as himself (you’re coming from his apartment, it’s not like it would have been so difficult to ask), but your boyfriend seems to prefer stepping into his alter-ego when he thinks there’s any possibility for danger.

It turns out this time, he was right.

It’s not that you don’t see the man walking in the opposite direction of you (you’d have to be blind to miss the slow, performative up-down he gives you) or notice his mouth moving in your periphery, but you’re city-trained; you keep your eyes ahead, hoping he’ll see that you’ve got your earbuds in and leave you alone when he doesn’t get the attention he wants.

The man passes you, and you’re thinking you’re in the clear when there’s a forceful tug on your elbow. You very nearly pitch forward in your haste to get away from the unwelcome touch, but then the hand is wrenched away, and you turn to find the man stuck to a newspaper dispenser with one wrist covered in a familiar white filmy substance. A second later, and his other hand is webbed to the car behind him.

You pull out your earbuds just as Spiderman lands in front of you, the tilt of his head indicating that he’s looking you over for damage.

“Hey, what the fuck!” The man sputters. “I was just trying to pay the bitch a compliment—”

“Alright, thanks for that, pal.” Spiderman webs his mouth shut, and your harasser continues his muffled protests. “Maybe we just have different styles, but most of my compliments don’t start with unsolicited commentary on a stranger’s boobs.”

You curl your lip, and the man looks like a dog on its leash the way he’s tugging against his restraints. Your rescuer webs his feet in place, stopping their scraping against the sidewalk.

“You know,” he says, turning to you, and he’s not even trying to disguise his voice, “you should really have at least one earbud out if you’re walking by yourself at night. That’s just the first entry in the Pretty Girl Guidebook.”

You grin at him. “I think the first entry in the Pretty Girl Guidebook would really advocate more for playing damsel in distress to lure charming heroes your way. Walk me home, handsome?”

You start back on your way, and he follows you like it’s all he knows how to do. He’s quiet, and though you can’t see his expression behind the mask, you wonder if you’ve actually startled Spiderman into silence. If he expects you to be bashful and awestruck, he’s got another thing coming; you’re typically a bit shy around new people, but Peter isn’t new people.

“Yeah?” he asks after a second, and you wonder if you’d be able to detect the slight pitchiness to his voice if you didn’t know it so well. “So was that the plan all along? Get yourself attacked to get yourself rescued?”

“No.” You shrug, casting a disdainful glance back toward the man who’d grabbed you. “I don’t go out looking for trouble, but I know that if it finds me,” you say, looking up into the mask with a simpering smile, “I’ve got Brooklyn’s friendly neighborhood hero to protect me.”

You think he actually gulps. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, sweetheart, but you really should take some precautionary measures too.”

“Well, I suppose I could’ve asked my boyfriend to walk home with me,” you muse, “but he seemed like he was eager to have me gone. Better things to do, apparently.”

“What?” It’s a squawk, and then Peter clears his throat from behind the mask. “I’m sure if your boyfriend’s a sensible guy—which, I mean, anyone who managed to snag a girl like you must not be totally airheaded—I’m sure he didn’t mean to rush you off.”

“I don’t know.” You frown, looking off in front of you contemplatively. “He’s book smart for sure, but he can be kind of dense sometimes.” You can feel your companion’s hesitation like a prickle at your side, his uncertainty of how to go about this conversation with you, and it catches him offguard when you stop to look up at him with coy, wide eyes. “Do you think you’re a sensible guy?”

His voice is strangled. “Me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, slowly moving into his space.

“I—I like to think so, sure.”

It’s all you can do not to giggle at how easily his cocky persona has come undone. You’re having too much fun to even feel bad about the torment you’re inflicting upon your boyfriend. “Maybe I should be with you, then,” you say.

He actually takes a step back. “But—but—uh, listen, you’re really pretty, but didn’t you say you had a boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you say softly, batting your eyelashes up at him, “what about him?”

You’ve got your hands on his shoulders, lips so close to his face you can feel the warmth of his breath through the mask, and you actually think he’s going to do it. He’s going to let you kiss him. You shove playfully at his chest, unable to contain your laughter anymore.

“Pete, c’mon,” you say, careful to keep your voice low. “You must think I’m an idiot. You really thought I wouldn’t recognize you?”

There’s a few moments of wordless sputtering which you can’t really hold against him, and then Peter’s whisking you into an alley, pulling his mask off.

“Sorry for fucking with you,” you say while he’s still getting his bearings. He runs a hand through his hair, eyes wide. “It was just so easy to flirt back. You made it too much fun for me.”

“Jesus, babe.” Peter fists a hand in his hair, already fluffy from being handled so much. “When did you figure it out?”

“I mean, before today, but not very long ago,” you admit. “I knew something was up for a lot longer, but I didn’t put it together until you helped me with that mugger a few weeks ago.” You quirk a playful eyebrow. “You should at least try to distort your voice if you’re going to be Spiderman around people who know you in real life, you know.”

“Never had to with Flash,” he mutters. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

You turn a bit more sheepish, unsure if you should feel guiltier about keeping your realization from him. To be fair, though, he’d kept a whole crime-fighting secret identity from you. “Is there ever a right time?” you ask him with a little shrug. “I guess I eventually wanted you to tell me on your own. I get why you didn’t, but it’s not like you’re exactly choosing to trust me here.”

“I do,” Peter says immediately. He takes your shoulder in hand, like he needs to keep you steady to make sure you’re hearing him. “I do trust you, honey. It was never about trust.” He passes a hand over his face, shock melding into something more like dread. “It just, it could be dangerous for you, if you’re ever seen with me and it's obvious you know who I am, or something. I didn’t want to drag you into anything. There are…not everyone thinks of me as the friendly neighborhood hero you do.”

He gives you a little smile, and you return it, stroking his jaw in an attempt at comfort. “I know,” you say softly.

“We’re going to have to be careful.”

“I know. Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“If we’re being careful, you should probably put your mask back on.”

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justanotherfanartist · 2 months

Text

taps mic. ahem.

help a student write a dumb rvb research paper? pretty please?? for funsies???

This is exactly what it sounds like.

My current final of the year for my language composition class is a massive synthesis + argumentative research paper on any topic of our choosing, and Roosterteeth + RVB has too much messy junk going on that I’m knee-deep invested in mentally at this point to pass up the opportunity to write about it.

And yknow, I see a ton of media analysis posts coming out of the fandom all the time and I’ve always loved seeing it and reading into it and sharing ideas and whatnot and this feels like my way of doing that too.

Essentially what I’m reaching out for is for you guys to help me crowdsource resources and share your ideas with me to include in my term paper*.

things that would be wizard cool of you to send me are:

any interviews or behind the scenes with the cast and creators you happen to know of

your own analysis or hot takes of the characters or the show as a whole

what the show has meant to you

any clips of old Roosterteeth expos

for the older fans, a rough idea of what the release timeline looked like for the episodes and what the buildup and fan reaction was for each one

any commentary or hot takes on how the fandom has changed since you joined/that you know of

what Roosterteeth did wrong (writing wise and irl)

what Roosterteeth did right (writing wise and irl)

tropes within the show you noticed whether originated by the show or not

tropes within the fandom, things like similar portrayals or bad/good takes on characters or face canons that span artists

literally anything you can give me, media, commentary, or opinion wise

(not to say I can’t find things on my own, I already have, but this is also about varying opinions and the general outlook of the fandom as a whole and measuring the broader impact of a show like RvB and it would be incredibly cool of you to help me out even with just crumbs of character opinions)

The idea is to get evidence together from clips, personal anecdotes, and opinions so I can present an accurate read on the fandom, especially when it comes to fan interpretation of RVB vs Roosterteeth’s intentions for the show (and behavior as a company) and explore what the show was supposed to be, what it literally is, how people see it, what its impact has been, and a general overview of the it’s legacy and lifespan, that sort of thing.

My thesis is most likely going to end up something in the ballpark of “How Roosterteeth exemplifies the Franchisation of Indie Media” or “Why RvB is one of the most complicated/misunderstood/divisive shows in modern media” or “How Fandoms interpret and recontextualize media”

I’m going to guess that I likely won’t be able to post the finished paper up online without a solid buffer window to avoid the two mortifying scenarios that are (a) being accused of creative plagiarism and (b) having to tell my instructor that the tumblr account with a 100% match to my course final is, in fact, my tumblr account, are two things I desperately want to avoid.

However if I can, simply for the sake of contributing to the fandom and creating something for us to all contribute to and discuss and crediting various peoples’ help and input would be ideal and, if at all possible, that would be the end goal.

so yeah. if you’re up for it I’d love for you to dm me your thoughts or (more conveniently for the both of us) fill out this Google form down here!

*im not gonna, like, repost your detailed character analysis as my own or something. I’m just trying to find some good quotes, general opinions, and ideas from the fandom so that I can accurately represent them and do our little corner of the internet Justice. And also because the audience of a work is a massive factor in media analysis lmfao. and also to create a community sourced Fun Thing™️ we can all look at and bite the corners off of instead of watching Roosterteeth crash and burn in the backgroun

#rvb #red vs blue #roosterteeth #research #me and my dumb little projects #rvb paper

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wen-kexing-apologist · 1 year

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By god do I just need to scream into the ether about the Heart and co. confrontation scene.

First, the tension, incredible. Gemini and Fourth are phenomenal actors. Heart and Li Ming know they are walking in to a very emotionally fraught situation and their hesitation is palpable.

It's scene breakdown time babyyyy! Let's start from the beginning

For a boy who admitted last episode that he has no idea what he is doing, he sure keeps doing things right. He's letting Heart know he's going to talk. Now, granted I don't know what he is saying here precisely if he is just simply saying "I'm going to talk for us/first", "I'll interpret," or if he's saying "I'm going to talk?", I don't think his face moves in any way that would imply a question, but his face is partially obscured. Either way he is at the very least keeping Heart in the know, and at the most asking for Heart's explicit consent to lead this conversation. You can't see it from pictures, but I appreciate the fact that before they cut back to the wide shot, Heart nods, so we as an audience, and Li Ming as the speaker here knows that Heart is okay with the power dynamics at play, with Li Ming talking for both of them.

It's a blink and you'll miss it moment, thankfully I'm obsessed with this scene and therefore have been looping it endlessly, but I feel compelled to point out the way eye contact in this moment goes a long way in conveying how Heart's Mom and Li Ming view Heart. When Heart's mother points to her son she doesn't even look at him. The most she does is cast a downward glance at his bandage, and that's before she even points. And you can argue all you want that she doesn't look at him because she's specifically talking to and addressing Li Ming. But I call bullshit on that because Li Ming is specifically talking to and addressing Heart's mother, and he's looking straight in to Heart's eyes when he refers to and gestures towards Heart. I'm sure that both of these characters believe they love and care about Heart, but of these two characters which one actually recognizes Heart's personhood?

But uh oh! Li Ming stood up for himself and for Heart, and talked back to not just an adult, but a powerful adult. And now she's mentioning past debts, and now there will be more to pay as a result. And Li Ming can only work so much with school and life and everything. He clearly doesn't know what he's getting himself in to, or what he has gotten himself in to. Li Ming and Heart's Mom are both getting angry, tensions are rising, something needs to happen to de-escalate the situation or this might go wrong. Uncle Jim absolutely must intervene (I hope you can hear the sarcasm in my voice). Interesting note: Guess who else doesn't look at their child when making a decision for them. Jim does look at Li Ming directly after this though, but it's to ask him why he did it. It's to place the blame for the accident on Li Ming. "You Li Ming, why did you do it?" "Heart asked me to." "Stop saying that."

Jim is scared, Li Ming is pissed. "He was bored at home" "I said stop!" Jim is used to the way powerful and wealthy people can control and punish the poor. Jim and Li Ming have had conversations before that indicate this very mindset. Jim has mentioned power to Li Ming before and Li Ming's response has always been "what, so we just let them?" "He's a police officer so he can just do anything he wants to us?" to a young adult like Li Ming, this is an absurdity, to an older man like Jim, this is a reality. "he can just do anything he wants to us?" the answer is yes. Which is why Jim is so desperate to get Li Ming to stop talking here. But it just serves as a reminder to Li Ming that Jim thinks he's a child, and that he needs all his battles fought for him. If Li Ming doesn't keep pushing, nothing is going to change (social and political commentary anyone?)

"There you go again," Heart's mother says, and this is Li Ming's initial reaction. This moment of annoyance and anger that this woman who doesn't even know him is once again accusing him of something he didn't do. This woman who is pointing once again to her son without even a glance in his direction "You know that he's mute, so you can say whatever you want?" First of all, even people who are mute have ways to communicate, so it's not like even if he was mute Heart would be helpless. Hell, even if Heart was mute he still has fucking sign language.

The face of a woman who was, in fact, not aware that deaf people dislike being called mute.

GUESS WHO FINALLY LOOKS AT HER SON AFTER THAT!!!! Please please if the writers are kind and merciful, this will be the point in the show where Heart's mother does so deep deep introspection and realizes how much she has fucked up. "He's just deaf," Li Ming says, loudly, and he steps forward, to try to engage Heart's mom in further conversation, in more dialogue. And what does Jim do? Pulls him back, takes him off his even footing "I said stop,"

The face of a man who is very scared for the trouble his nephew might be getting himself in to, and the face of his nephew who is very disappointed that his uncle keeps not only backing down, but forcing him to back down as well. Who keeps asking him, in these small ways to lie instead of tell the truth. To remain quiet, to take the blame, to stick to the status quo.

And then the part I hate (emotionally) begins. Heart asks Li Ming to tell him what they're saying. And I hate it because Heart's parents refusing to learn sign language does not only hurt Heart but it hurts everyone around him, themselves included. But specifically here, it hurts Li Ming, because he has to be the one to look Heart in the face and repeat the words his mother said, knowing that to do so will hurt Heart. Knowing that he has to be the one to hurt Heart.

And this moment is also a great reminder for the audience as well that no one else knowing sign language creates really uncomfortable power dynamics between the person who is able to interpret and the Deaf person. Because Li Ming is hesitant to repeat it. Heart has to repeatedly grab his arm, repeatedly ask Li Ming to tell him what was said. Li Ming has absolute power over Heart right now, to refuse to say it, or to flat out lie. He doesn't, but it also should not be Li Ming's decision whether or not Heart knows, accurately, what was said. Even after we see it in his face that Li Ming agrees to translate, he still hesitates for a few seconds to move, to reach for the notepad, to have to write it down.

And once he writes it down, Li Ming's eyes do not leave Heart. He is honed in on Heart, on Heart's face, on his shoulders, hell even on the back of his head until Heart asks him to translate. And god as much as I hate this moment in the scene for the pain that it causes Li Ming, I hate it even more for the pain that it causes Heart.

He is fucking livid. Rightfully so, because HE'S NOT FUCKING MUTE, HE'S HAD LANGUAGE THIS ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME. He just wants to live his life like everyone else AND HE HAS TO TELL HIS PARENT'S THAT USING SOMEONE ELSE'S VOICE. Because they have refused to use his own. GOD. I'll be surprised if anyone makes it this far down in the post but I just...AHHHH I have no coherent thoughts about this moment, I just....Heart's parents do fucking better. Damn. And the worst part of this scene is yet to come because his Mom tries for like 0.2 seconds, but it looks like she's going to start signing something and Heart just looks SO surprised.

He's so focused on it, he's paying so much attention to it. Is this it? Is this the moment he finds out that his mother has actually been trying? That she has learned and is ready to start using sign language with him? To talk to him, to understand him?

No.

She can't do it. She doesn't know how to. And it's just..it's so easy to see how much hope he had for just a second, how much that one millisecond of effort obliterated all the logic in his head that told him they didn't know it, they didn't care. And how quickly that disappointed anger snaps right back in to place. So Heart starts talking, in sign language, like he has been able to do for years, and he speaks his mind, and his mother still can't understand him. And we see the same dynamic here as with the "mute" comment. Heart's Mom wants Li Ming to translate, Heart wants Li Ming to translate, Li Ming knows how hurt Heart is, and yeah, probably some of his hesitation in voicing what Heart said is because he knows what Heart said will hurt her. But more so because I think it hurts Li Ming to know how much pain Heart is in.

God, poor Heart, literally having to beg to be heard.

"He said you are ashamed of him being deaf,"

His mother shakes her head and says "Heart, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, dear," and therein lies the problem. She doesn't know what to say, she never has. She has never bothered to learn how to communicate with him since he went deaf. She has kept him locked away. And it doesn't matter if she thinks she did that to keep him safe, Heart feels like he's being hidden away. And she doesn't say "No. No I'm not ashamed. I have never been ashamed." she doesn't know what to say. Because she can't say that. She can't deny that, and it just confirmed everything that Heart has known. So he leaves, because that's too much to handle.

Bullshit 'he'll be fine, honey'. Your fucking son just told you that you never bothered to learn sign language in THREE FUCKING YEARS, and stormed away after admitting that he feels like you are ashamed of him, and you think no need to go after him, he'll be fine??? Fuck you. ACAB.

Does this...

look like...

he's fine, to you?

No. I didn't think so.

I don't really feel like I need to say much about this last shot. It stands on its own so strongly. Mirrors reflecting back, Heart and Li Ming only ever being able to see each other, to be seen by each other. Warm light at Heart's back, Li Ming in front of him, sandwiched between warmth in all of that blue, isolating coldness. All that evidence of how much time and the energy Heart has spent learning sign language. I don't know what the post-its say, I don't know that I want to know.

I don't know if they are notes Heart has written to himself when he was learning, and this is just what remains of his effort. Honestly I hope it's that, because if it is what I think it is, general, every day responses that he might have to give in reply to his parents that he can just pull off his wall and return, that is so much fucking worse. Because then its just the evidence of all the effort Heart has put in to communicate with his parents on their level when they have not put in the same effort to communicate on his. Even if it's something cute, even if it's all the notes that he and Li Ming have passed back and forth to each other over the last few months, serving as a reminder that someone cares, you still are left with the heartbreaking shot of two young men, desperate to be understood by their families, only having each other to hold on to, surrounded by reminders that they are the only two people that can understand each other. No matter how hard they try.

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whatdostarsdo · 1 year

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The thing about Star Trek Voyager is that even though it’s a bad show, you can very clearly see the bones of a good show. All the ingredients that are needed to make the show good are there except for good and consistent writing. Which is why it’s so infuriating and also so compelling.

The voyager cast incudes some of my favorite characters in all of trek. Captain Janeway? Tuvok? Chakotay? B’elanna? The Doctor? Seven of Nine? Harry Kim? They are all such compelling characters!!! The actors all put their heart and souls into the performances! It is so easy to make up good stories about these characters!

And then a lot of the plots are actually good and compelling they just tend to lose the thread halfway through the episodes! The premise of the show is FASCINATING and they underutilize it immensely! A lot of the things that Do get written end up serving as incredible commentary on the time and NONE of it is self aware at all!!! It drives me nuts!

Like. It is so easy to keep watching voyager to feed the good version of voyager that lives in your brain. It is an excellent exercise in critical thinking and seeing what works about storytelling. The sets, the make up, the sound design, is all Incredible and it’s so visually fun to immerse yourself in.

And like. It’s fun! It’s a fun show! They boldly go! They get into situations! They have really compelling character arcs! They pose interesting questions! Do they think any of this through or resolve anything? Hell no! But part of Star Trek is making you think anyway! And it is SO fun to think about voyager. It is so fun to be like ok this is what I would have done to make this episode work, or, what do you think they were actually going for here, or, this was accidentally a really good commentary on what it’s like to be biracial or traumatized entirely by accident how wild, right?

And like that’s why every voyager fan is so deranged yes (I include myself in this god bless) because it takes a certain kind of person to see this show and care about it and think about it. And it also just hits that perfect spot in the curve where there is so much potential and also so much content that was not delivered on to make it absolutely Perfect for fan interpretation and fan content.

Anyway reblog if you too look at voyager and go “I can fix him” lmao

#star trek #voy #Eris tag #I just #I think about it so much sometimes #there is the good version of voyager that lives in my brain and it is fantastic #though certainly I do consider a lot of seasons 4-7 Actually Really Good #in terms of writing and such #anyway I have Thoughts TM

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thesiltverses · 2 months

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A series of novels taking place in the same universe definitely worked for the welcome to night vale folks. I bet you have a lot of fan overlap too so you know it would appeal. If you did audiobooks do you think you would you have the cast narrate? Also for me the appeal to a collection of transcripts would be the kind of behind the scenes directors commentary aspect you get with the descriptions in the script of what a character is thinking or the tone that might be implied or sometimes just a clarification on what actually happened that you don’t always get from the audio. That’s why I read them. But having them in a book I could put on my shelf would be nice too.

We do already have those director's commentaries (from S2 onwards) on our Patreon if you're interested! But agree that they could be combined with the scripts themselves for ease.

Audiobooks read by the cast would be wonderful, I'm sure it'd just be a question of whether any prose adaptation sold well enough (if I managed to get it written and published in the first place! Lotta maybes) and how busy our cast are however many years down the line. Our actors are rightly seeing a ton of success in all their endeavours, exactly as they deserve, so I wouldn't want to assume.

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jq37 · 2 months

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The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 15

The Buddy System

Welcome back to Fantasy High where the Bad Kids are still fighting for their lives and, more importantly, their grades.

After a sterling start to their Last Stand exam, they still have a lot more test to get through before they’re academically out of the woods and they need a perfect score on the written portion to pass which is incredibly harsh but that’s Aguefort for you!

This is a very long episode where everyone gets to be so cool. Truly, you can see how competent all of the players and the characters have become as they carve a bloody path through wave after wave of enemies.

As usual, it doesn’t really make sense for me to do a blow for blow recap of this fight but it’s absolutely worth watching. It’s an absolute delight from Siobhan and Emily irl making up a limerick in tandem to pass the Performance section of The Last Stand to Gorgug rolling truly more Nat 20s than I’ve ever seen in my life and almost solo-ing a *Purple Worm*. There’s not really any commentary that I can add to improve on just how amazingly they do in the episode. They’re forced to use the auto-pass stamp twice but only on the two most unreasonable things Brennan asked them to do–write a 300 word essay longhand in five minutes and do a (gag) math word problem. With those two stamped, they get 100% on their written exam. They even get some extra credit (partially due to Siobhan’s IRL LOTR geekery).

Not only that, but Gavin (the proctor) only gets hit (I think) once and never actually goes down! None of the Bad Kids do. Hell, Adaine–their squishiest member–basically just sits at her desk the whole fight answering questions and slinging spells and she’s fine! Happy ending, A+s all around, roll credits, right?

No, of course not. Nothing is that simple–not that this was simple. They can’t just be the first party to ever pass The Last Stand without dying and have it be done.

During the fight, everyone–but especially Kristen–has been suspicious of Buddy. She does an Insight check and sees that he seems on the level but that’s not enough to quell her suspicion. Near the end of the fight, she eats the Vulture King eyeball (granting her a minute of Truesight) with the intent of seeing who Buddy really is–a reasonable instinct considering Ruben was in disguise at the festival.

She sees that Buddy is Buddy. She *also* sees Kipperlilly Copperkettle invisibly aiming a crossbow at Gavin. KP clocks Kristen clocking her, smiles, and lowers the crossbow, instead choosing to SLIT BUDDY’S THROAT. Buddy falls to the ground, absolutely DEAD. Not making saves. FULLY DEAD. A blue scaly hand touches her and they both vanish–Kristen can tell that the spell was Plane Shift (which is necessary for getting in and out of this testing pocket dimension). She frantically looks for a diamond to cast Revivify but her pockets have been picked and Buddy’s Revivify diamonds are gone as well.

They finish the fight victoriously but Buddy’s death casts a pallor on everything. This was supposed to be a fight to the death but Buddy was the one person whose death wasn’t figured into the bloodbath. Gavin tells them that they pass the rest of the year with A+s but is shaken and thrown off kilter by the seemingly random murder. Kristen tells him what she saw and Gavin says that he was observing so he can vouch for the fact that none of them had anything to do with the murder but this is a crime scene and they have to call the Fantasy FBI. The Bad Kids are all super worried about Gavin’s safety since Kipperlilly was going after him initially, but in the end they agree to take him to the Council of Chosen office in Bastion City so he can be under their protection and to leave Fig’s phone (juiced up by Gorgug) in the pocket dimension with Buddy’s body in case there are any shenanigans (you know, besides him getting murdered which was already a pretty big shenanigan).

The Bad Kids drop off Gavin and then take a bus back to Elmville with a new mission: CSI Elmville, let’s get this bitch arrested!

Editing to Add: This is a very cool post by @thisisnotthenerd that covers all the Last Stand Qs and monsters in the form of Gavin's proctor notes. Check it out!

Detention

Kipperlilly for Icing Buddy

This was gonna go to Brennan for making a bunch of stand up comedians do math under a time limit but I can’t not give it to Kipperlilly here. She smiled. She looked at Kristen, smiled, and slit Buddy’s throat. There was no gritting her teeth like it was a hard but pragmatic choice. She was about to take the life of someone who fully trusted her and she did it with glee. There is something *deeply* wrong with this bitch, and we knew that already but hoo boy this certainly clinches it.

Honor Roll

Gorgug for DESTROYING that Purple Worm

Everyone was in top form this episode but if I have to give it to one person, I’m gonna give it to Gorgug for single handedly holding back a Purple Worm, a monster so terrifying that there is an official D&D show where the premise is that all the players have to fight an OP monster they’re almost certainly gonna TPK against and the title is “Faster, Purple Worm! Kill! Kill!” Our boy didn’t even drop. That’s Maximum Legend Behavior.

Random Notes

Kristen has the thought that she interrupted a truly horrible thing that KP was about to do and wonders what the crossbow bolt was loaded with. I didn’t mention it in the recap but I wanted to call attention to it because Brennan called attention to it.

Also Riz got some footage of Gavin clearing them with his tie and Gavin sent their scores to the superintendent (not Jace to be clear–Tectonya Karkovnya who we met in The Seven).

Ugh I’m so annoyed because if KP and Oisin get questioned under Zone of Truth they’re absolutely gonna be dosed up with Devil’s Honey.

Buddy’s throat was slit and there’s no rune on his chest so presumably he can be revived if he’s brought to a hospital–hell Kristen could probably do it with a higher level spell–but I’m worried someone’s gonna slap that rune on him while his body is alone.

Do we think KP killed Buddy without a thought because she knows she lives in a world with revives and she knows it’s temporary or is she just like I truly do not care what happens to this (literally) corny ass cleric. I don’t know him like that.

Once again, I love Adaine’s div powers so much. “You crit actually.” What a legend. Also love Fig coming to her with doubt and her just being like don’t be crazy and slapping a reticle on the monster to help her aim. I really love their friendship.

Adaine is my favorite Bad Kid and I am first in line to throw down wrath on anyone who tries to mess with her. That being said, my favorite non-Bad Kid character is Aelwyn who has absolutely tried to kill Adaine and attacked her on multiple occasions and also is wanted for murders she absolutely did. My point here is that Oisin’s next moves will determine if he’s “surrounded by bad influences/I can fix them” material like Aelwyn or, “Throw out the whole man” material like that cop Antiope had a crush on. I am still rooting for the former but I will flip on a dime, do not doubt me.

I tried that essay writing task and with 25 seconds left on the clock (I stopped when I finished making my points) I was only at 174 words and my hand was seriously cramping. So I would say, valiant effort from the Bad Kids but that was a *rough* ask.

Kristen’s Bless really came in clutch! Honorary mention to her for that AND for having enough intuition to keep an eye on the Rat Grinder situation. I wonder if Brennan contemplated that might happen.

Fig bug zapping all those flying monsters was chef’s kiss.

Did Bobby Dawn fail Kristen specifically so she’d have to take the Last Stand? If so, he is indirectly responsible for his grandson getting iced. Hope that tastes bitter when he finds out but for all we know he’s one of those ends justify the means guys. Bleh.

This season really is a love letter to all that came before it. The questions, the pentacorn, Adaine’s go to move even magically just being making a fist and letting it fly. I really love how much love Brennan clearly has for this world. And the 100% score the players got on the test shows they obviously love it right back!

Loose Ends

It is Fantasy High tradition for us to get a huge lore dump near the end of the season that ties together a lot of disparate clues and I hope we’re getting there soon because there are a LOT of loose ends we have yet to tie. Here are as many major ones as I can think of right now in case it helps spark productive speculation amongst y’all.

Who killed the Loams?

Why the move to Loam Farm for Frosty Faire?

What specifically was Ruben trying to do with the symbol when he was playing at the festival? Presumably the thing Grix was trying to prevent?

Who killed Professor Badgood?

What were the exact circumstances behind Lucy’s death?

Who was able to put the rune on both of their bodies and what exactly was the goal there?

What is the Devil’s Honey being used for? What about the other things Aelwyn was getting for KP like Ambrosia? Why did she want a Cloud Rider engine?

How is Jace involved? Why is he manipulating Ruben?

How culpable is each individual Rat Grinder? Are they all in it together or are there varying levels of how involved they are?

Why were Ankarana’s domains wiped from heavens’ computers?

Why did Ankarna become corrupted and why was she forgotten? Were the celestial gods (Sol and co) involved?

How did KP find the rogue teacher?

Also what’s her damage? Why is she obsessed with Riz? What are her anger issues about?

What’s her current goal? Who is she loyal to (if anyone)? Why did she want to know about Kristen creating a god exactly?

Why did Lucy change her god and then change it back?

Why was Buddy specifically requested by the Rat Grinders?

Why is KP running for class president? And is Mazey being principal a purposeful machination or just a weird thing that’s happening incidentally?

What’s up with Spy’s Tongue Curse and Kalina only being able to say Ragh’s name? Is it related to that conversation between Kalina, Adaine’s mom, and Jace from SY?

Why wasn’t Ivy surprised to see Fig in disguise as Lucy who was at the time fully dead?

What’s up with the party vision that Adaine has now had at least twice?

Where is KP getting her money from?

What made the Rat Grinders become the Rat Grinders when they started as the High Five Heroes?

What's up with the shatter stars infecting the soil around Elmville?

Where exactly is Cass right now?

What does Ankarna want?

How does Ruvina fit into all of this?

Feel free to hit me up if there's something you think I should add to the list! Can't wait for next week. I'll see you then!

#Dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 #d20 spoilers #fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #spoilers #the report card

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