hc that during the 7yg kristoph and trucy have a game called "nail salon" where kris does trucy's nails and she tells him all the hottest grade school gossip and kris is sincerely delighted by it all
trucy: -and then she saw brayden holding hands with EMILY!
kristoph: [overdramatic gasp] emily? i thought brayden was dating fatima?
trucy: brayden gave fatima a loom bracelet last week, but now he's saying it didnt mean anything! ugh, men.
kristoph, nodding sagely: men
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Is 9-10 am early enough for red rocks to get semi close to the front near the stage do you think for GA?😭😭 i’m traveling and that’s the earliest i can be there sighhh
Honestly I think you'll be good at that time, yeah. I know the first 7 or 8 rows are Restricted/VIP/ADA, so if you have a GA ticket there's no way to be at the barrier anyway, but also there are supposedly no bad seats in that amphitheater. Everything is tiered and set up so that you'll be able to see over the people in front of you and only the people on the very fringes of each row may have an obstructed view of one side of the stage.
My personal goal is to get right behind the sound stage pit, or maybe to one of the sides, because that railing would kind of simulate being at the barricade (nobody directly in front of you) even though it's not right up front.
If you can, bring a poncho, because I'm honestly more worried about the supposed forecast thunderstorm and cold weather than about getting super close to the stage (I am a desert girlie; I am not built for wet or cold lol). Hopefully it passes during the day so it doesn't rain on the audience while we're worshipping but the weather at Red Rocks is unpredictable at best.
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thinking about how phoenix wright had one canon relationship and one weird and offputting relationship that was never really explained (they were totally fucking) and both people were really toxic and also literal serial killers. having plenty of phoenix thoughts tonight. the character ever. hes so lame hes literally me
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I just think it’s so silly and funny that in ace attorney, the defendant can go “I’m fucking guilty” and the judge can be like “nice, we’ll put in you in jail then. BUT if any DELUSIONAL, I mean, DETERMINED defense lawyer wants to give it a shot despite the defendant’s plea, I mean we’ll hear them out.” It makes no sense, it’s not supposed to, and I love it. AND it happened twice with Lana and Miles.
Literally like this:
Defendant: I’m guilty.
Phoenix: nuh uh
Defendant: stop
Judge: wait let him cook though
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Grammy
Gojo x reader
Genre: Fluff
Words: 336
Synopsis: Gojo thinks he deserves a grammy
Masterlist
It was a rather quiet night at your shared apartment. You and Gojo Satoru had been dating for a while, and life was usually peaceful, except for one small, noisy exception. Gojo had discovered a hidden talent - or so he claimed.
Tonight, you were nestled in your bed, enjoying the blissful embrace of sleep. The room was dark, and the tranquility of the night surrounded you. Just as you started to drift into a deep slumber, a familiar, off-tune voice pierced the silence.
"Baby, baby, baby, ohhh!" Gojo crooned loudly, his voice cracking on the high notes. You groaned, burying your face in your pillow, desperately trying to block out the sound.
"Satoru, seriously?" you mumbled into the pillow, irritated by the interruption.
Undeterred, Gojo continued his vocal assault. "I'm the next big sensation, sweetheart! Move over, pop stars, THE Satoru Gojo is in the house!"
You threw a pillow in his direction, hitting him square in the face. "If you don't shut up, I swear I'll use my cursed technique on you!"
Gojo dramatically caught the pillow mid-air, holding it against his chest. "Ah, my adoring fans just can't get enough of my talent. Maybe I should start selling tickets to my nightly concerts."
Rolling your eyes, you sat up in bed, glaring at your eccentric boyfriend. "You're not talented; you're torturing me."
Gojo struck a pose, placing a hand over his heart. "Ah, but my dear, this is an art form. A masterpiece in the making. I'm like a phoenix rising from the ashes of musical obscurity."
You couldn't help but snicker at his theatrics. "More like a banshee screeching in the night."
He pouted playfully. "I'll have you know that my off-key singing is a rare and precious gem. I should win a Grammy for this. Move over, Adele! Scoot away, Beyonce!"
You shook your head, trying to stifle a laugh. "You're delusional, babe."
He winked at you, striking another pose. "Delusional or not, I've found my hidden talent. Grammy, here I come!"
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