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#they said three lines at the end it's not a 'scene' to me
hannie-dul-set · 1 day
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EXTENSION: AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.
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p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno realizes his type in women after getting kidnapped by his celebrity crush. w — swearing, kidnapping, crime in general. 1.4k words.
note — part 2 to an unlikely fanmeeting. to the anon who said that they envisioned eric from tbz as the ex boyfriend, this one's for u. enjoy.
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a swoosh on the top. a loop at the bottom. two slopes intersecting before breaking of to scratch a little heart at the tail end. the ink is red. it’s always red.
“is this all?”
you remove the cardstock from the table, and with a sharp movement you snap your arm straight, presenting it to him. jeno looks at your signature— with the pretty loops and all, but he smacks his tongue in disappointment. there’s an impatient twitch on your brow as you eye him, waiting seated on the other side of your desk. jeno snatches the autographed card, “of course not," then tucks it into the chest pocket of his no longer damp shirt.
there’s a clench of your jaw, a tightening of your stare. your eyes stopped quivering even since starting the deal. a shame, because jeno had a lot of fun backing you into a corner.
still, he likes seeing you mad too— sharp gaze, knitted brows, lips on the verge of a sneer— almost foreign to the gentle and sweet expressions natural to your features. there’s no mix of melancholic blue like when you’re acting out a scene. this one’s impersonal, like you’ve got no shits to give. it’s red. all red.
jeno prefers red.
he leans a little closer. your annoyance shifts to suspicion. he rests an arm on your desk, shifting his weight to it. a single tap on the stack of blank cardstock. “i need a couple bit more,” he says, a quirk of the lips. “my boys like you a lot, too.”
a pause. then a sigh. you roll your eyes and shoo him off your personal space with a wave, to which he hums and obediently follows, and while the scratches of pen against paper fill your office space, jeno takes the once in a lifetime opportunity to snoop around a celebrity’s room.
the whole is flushed with dark mahogany, a singular lamp illuminating the area from the ceiling. there’s a case lined with countless trophies and plaques and certificates and awards. there’s a wall with a giant poster of your face on it. he flits his eyes over to you on the desk, blank faced as you sign each layer of cardstock one by one like a machine, then back to the bigger version of your face on the wall, smiley-eyed and innocent.
there’s a laugh trying to claw out of his throat. he spins his heels and returns to your desk.
“wait," he says, interrupting you from finishing the last card on the pile. your hand jerks to a stop. you look up at him, what now? on your expression. jeno is pretty sure he’s done a negative amount of good things to deserve seeing all these different kinds of faces from you. “can you put park jisung on that one?”
“what?”
“nice kid. a little clumsy. good with the bat,” jeno answers and you look like you could care less. “he cried three times watching sunwater. give him a little treat.”
you, once again, let out a exhale and continue writing with a rather aggressive scribble, ending the note with a pressure-pointed dot in the bottom right corner. “happy?” you deride.
he hums, “that’s not the attitude of someone who wants something from me,” and slides the stack of cards to his side of the desk, collecting it between his hands and slides them in between each other with a shuffle. “but anyhow, let’s get to talking.”
“finally.”
three loud taps on the table as he sets down the autographed cards. jeno takes the plush seat in front of your desk and drags it closer.
“you want us to abduct your ex boyfriend.” you affirm. “who is it? the eric sohn guy i keep seeing you on the news with?” a look of judgement overrides your expression. jeno simply shrugs. you can’t blame him for the fact that your face and name is everywhere.
“whatever,” you sigh. “anyway, yes, i want that bitch back here. he ran away to japan after i caught him fucking shin yona two days before our god damned anniversary.”
“damn. his loss.” 
“the fucker knows i can’t run after him because my schedule is packed this week. one of which is an ad shoot with the bitch yona, by the way. if she doesn’t pull out voluntarily, i’ll see to it that she does.”
you sure do swear quite a lot. “i think i’ve seen her before. was it firefly? i don’t know, that movie was crap.”
again, with the look of heavy judgement. makes him want to keep egging you on on purpose.
“i get it that you’re a fan, but this isn’t a god damned fanmeeting, you know.”
jeno looks at you, a ghost of a grin on his lips. “does your company know you act like this?” 
“of course not, how’d you think i stayed in the industry for so long if i don’t know how to act fake,” you roll your eyes. “back to the point. eric sohn. japan. can you bring him back here?”
“consider it done,” he says. his phone is out. you returned his shit earlier after wrapping things up in the basement. he then keys in a couple texts to a few contacts, eyes flickering between you and the screen. “and then what do you want? how badly do you wanna see him ruined? a few broken ribs and bruises? ‘til his face is unrecognizable? or—”
jeno closes his phone and drops it back into his pocket. he leans forward to get a better look at your face. 
his voice is low, quiet, and hushed, yet pulls down the air into the ground with a gravity heavier than that of the earth’s.
“want him dead?” 
silence permeates the room. he can’t read the thoughts running inside your pretty little head— save for the inkling that you don’t find his last suggestion the very least bit appealing.
“are you stupid? don’t you dare fucking touch him.”
your voice is aghast— offended. well, what did he expect. you might’ve acted the entire night like you had little to no regard to violence and the law— sending a bunch of men to kidnap him and all and waking up tied in a shady basement inside your own home, a few suspicious materials here and there, that’s got him thinking you’ve got graver intentions than a simple splash of water and a probably slap in the face.
“i only asked you to bring him to me and nothing more. don’t get ahead of yourself.”
but maybe there’s still a line that you you’re not willing to cross. 
“what’s the point if i don’t get to fuck him up myself?”
jeno feels a rattle in his bones.
he drills his eyes into you— your face, devoid of any jest or hint of hesitation. it’s all red and raw reprehension.
“what? the hell are you staring at?”
the words tumble out of his lips before he knows it.
“think you could let me watch?”
there’s a pause. it’s cold and quiet in your office. you’re looking at him like he just desecrated your parents graves. in jeno’s defense, you put the image in his head and his mouth doesn't have the safety on. when he doesn’t take it back, you sigh, place a set of fingers on your temple, and say, “get the job done first before making any extra requests.” 
well, that’s not a no at the very least.
“i’ve already made my payment so you better see to it that you accomplish your end of the deal.”
eyes flicker to the thin stack of autographed cards. he gets up from the chair with a rattle and takes it off the desk. “you sure about this, doll?” he asks, gaze flitting back to your face. “if word gets out, you’d be pretty much kissing your career goodbye, you know.” and after receiving your payment, he sets his arms down on the surface, leaning forward, grabbing taking out the red pen you’ve been using and scribbling his contact information on a spare sheet of paper.
he drops the pen with a clatter and takes a look at your expression.
“that’s fifteen years down the drain.”
you look like you’re tired of his shit.
“if word gets out that means you’re crap at your job,” you sneer, slapping your hand over the note as he finished writing. you slide it over to you with a screech. “didn’t you say you could handle this better than the incompetent fucks that brought you here?”
you’re looking up at him like you’re looking down, eyes snapped up, expectant and unforgiving.
jeno puts his hands up in a surrender, a sliver of a smile playing on his lips.
“you got it.”
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AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.
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brainwormcity · 1 day
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So, there are only three of the original six verses in Tori Amos's version of A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square, right? I was writing a scene from episode five, season 2, so for continuity's sake, I checked the approximate place the song starts up in the Bentley when Crowley starts the car in episode 6.
The song begins to play at around 1:09, just before the interlude and right before the last line verse two:
I may be right, I may be wrong But I'm perfectly willing to swear That when you turned and smiled at me A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square
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Out of curiosity, I went back to season one, and though it plays on through the credits, the actual footage cuts off right at the tail end of verse one:
That certain night, the night we met There was magic abroad in the air There were angels dining at the Ritz And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square
Let's imagine for half a second that since Neil and Tori Amos are friends and her version was recorded specifically for the series, each verse refers to a related event, i.e. Crowley and Aziraphale's season one end Ritz date.
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And that though things go entirely south during the following fifteen minutes, verse two perhaps refers to these moments preceding it:
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Then it's not out of the realm of possibility that the closing scene of season three could end with verse three:
The streets of town were paved with stars It was such a romantic affair And as we kissed and said goodnight A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square
If the established pattern of relating a preceding event continues, then maybe, just maybe, Crowley and Aziraphale will share a kiss- a good, sweet, happy kiss- just before the series ends for good.
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ciaonicole85 · 2 days
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Part 2: What Then?
I promise I have a life, but I couldn't help writing part 2 today! This takes place the same day as the "Development Day" when Syd and Carmy are thrown off by each other's answers during an ice breaker activity. Post-season 2. Feel-good fluff.
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Photo Credit @drrav3nb /  drrav3nb.tumblr.com
"So those are the menu changes for Chicago Restaurant Week. If you have questions, feel free to ask me or Chef Sydney. You should also have an email from Natalie by later today. Okay, let's prep for night service!"
Carmy closed the meeting, grateful that it was finally over. He was no longer afraid of public speaking after rising in the ranks of various kitchens, but his mind was not in this ever since the ice breaker. He, Carmen Berzatto, had made Sydney's favorite meal ever? The last time he prepared the pork confit and the Milk and Honey dishes she mentioned was several years ago. Back then he was at Eleven Madison Park, a rising star on the culinary scene, who chain-smoked, slept 3 hours a night, and was berated by the EC daily. It was a nightmare peppered with flashes of genius. He was dying to ask her about it, but before he could get her attention Sydney had slipped into the kitchen.
He stared disappointed at the window that separated the dining area and kitchen.
"Hey Bear, what's up with you?" Richie said sidling up to him trying to follow his gaze.
"Nothing cousin."
"Yeah, right. I missed when it happened, but it seems like you crashed and had to reboot during the meeting. Then you were lost in Sydney-land. Want to talk about it?"
Carmy rubbed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. When he used both hands, Richie knew without a doubt he had hit on something.
"First, cool it about Syd. That handout you gave us was really cute. And yes, there's something on my mind, but it's not for me to say."
Richie grinned and rubbed Carmy's shoulder.
"Fine, just get your head together because tonight is going to be loaded and it includes three anniversaries and a birthday. And second, you need to cool it about her or do something. It's like I'm living in The Wonder Years with Kevin and Winnie."
"What?"
"Oh, right. That's probably before your time. Kids!"
With that Richie sauntered over to the host stands to strategize with the wait staff and hosts.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sydney who had a thousand things to do, was adding at least a hundred more onto her plate. She didn't want to appear like she had a moment to spare. She and Carmy could talk at the end of the night as usual, without any eavesdropping. This would also give her time to think of an explanation as to why she never mentioned eating at Eleven Madison Park and that she wasn't a stalker who followed him to The Beef. To top off this awkward sundae, Carmy casually admitted his favorite part of the day was closing, the only time they are alone every day. She hoped no one else had connected the dots on that last part.
The afternoon and the night never went quicker to her chagrin. Even when one of the line cooks was sent home due to illness and a large group put in an order for 7 Fishes two minutes before tickets closed, she thought the night couldn't last long enough. Fortunately, Carmy seemed resigned to waiting and didn't look at her more than usual. In a flash service was over and no one was in the mood to hang around. By 11:00pm Sydney had cleaned her station for the third time and forced herself to go to Carm's office. He sat there pretending to do busy work, patiently waiting like a child who consoled himself that his parents wouldn't make him wait too long to open his Christmas presents.
"Hey Syd...it was a good night," he said softly not wanting to scare her away.
Sydney nodded and took a seat. Might as well get it over with it.
"Okay, yes. You made the best meal I've ever had. During a break at the CIA, I went to NYC and ate everywhere on my list, including Eleven Madison Park. It was a Wednesday night and I ordered several things including pork confit and Milk and Honey."
Sydney couldn't help closing her eyes and smiling at the memory. Her guard began to slip.
"Carm, it was like tasting my future and the best part of my past at the same time. I asked the waiter who made those dishes and he said Carmen Berzatto."
Carmen leaned forward on the desk. Whenever Sydney praised him, he felt like a cactus in an unexpected downpour. He wouldn't waste a single word. Her sunny existence and her belief in him sustained him during his dry seasons. He reached for her whenever he looked at the debt they still owed Uncle Cicero, when his mother finally visited The Bear and cried saying that he had erased Mikey, and even when their success seemed too good to be true. 
Sydney opened her eyes to find him looking at her in the way he had. It was terrifying because she had a very specific plan for her career. It also thrilled her, knowing the power she had over him. Five months ago, she had been begging for his focus and now she knew every her mood, glance, and word she spoke impacted him. Once for the fun of it during a slow night she stared at him until she drew his attention and smiled. He blushed, smiled back, came towards her without saying "corner", and crashed into one of the servers, sending three Michael cannoli to the floor. That was three months ago when she first realized something was going on with him. She'd refused to abuse her power since, going so far as to convince herself that she was overestimating his feelings. Then he said the best part of his day was closing. She hoped, well sort of hoped, that they could maintain this close, but not too close partnership and friendship without complications.
After a long pause Carmen sighed and sat back in his chair.
"So, how did you find me?"
"Well, like I said when we met, it was the job posting. I recognized your name and also The Beef from my dad taking me here."
She shrugged thoughtfully.
"It felt like it was meant to be. It gave me hope for the first time since Sheridan went under."
He nodded.
"It's really strange. You came here because I inspired you and the only reason, I felt capable of attempting something this big was because of you" he said gesturing to the ceiling.
"Yeah?" Sydney whispered.
"Yeah."
He stood up and walked around to sit on the desk facing her. Now, Sydney felt vulnerable looking up at him. It was so easy for him to unnerve her when he spoke this way, like under the table.
Carmy took one her hands and after a moment brought it to his lips.
"Thank you for telling me, Syd. It means a lot."
Sydney was unable to speak. Her throat had closed.
"Soon, is your one year work anniversary and I think we should celebrate."
She nodded.
Carmy set her hand down.
"It's late. I'll drive you home."
With that they left the office, gathered their stuff, and walked to his car in silence.
As they drove, Sydney attempted to talk herself down. Was that hand kiss, an Italian thing? Possibly. It also seemed like Carmy decided to do...something, but what? Worse, she was feeling like they had traded positions in mere seconds. She'd enjoyed having the upper hand. Oh, well. With a goodnight's rest she'd be back in form tomorrow. Maybe "accidentally" brush past him, or ask him to lift something heavy for her and comment on his strength. Then it would be game over for poor Carmy bear. For now, she wouldn't worry about the work anniversary. It was probably just going to be a cake Carm commissioned Marcus to bake.
Probably.    
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sonkitty · 21 hours
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Crowley S2 Hair Post #21
(For reference: The Sideburns Scheme)
Crowley, Good Omens 2, Episode 1, The Clue, your boss
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Sideburns Check
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The sideburns are long before Crowley fully crosses the threshold. They most likely lengthened while Aziraphale was touching the astragal and doorknob to his bookshop.
This shift suggests that the border is already expanding for entry compared to the previous episode. Aziraphale is looking at Crowley so has probably noticed.
Gabriel is on the first floor though not visible to Crowley when Crowley first entered. With both Gabriel and Aziraphale around, the sideburns stay long during the scene.
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When Crowley turns to Aziraphale and says, "Your boss said that to Job, do you remember?" is when it looks like the story itself most wants these long sideburns to be noticed. It's a strong right profile view of his face so gets a good look at the snake tattoo as well.
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Brighter Red Streak Check
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The more saturated red streak of hair can best be found when Crowley removes his sunglasses and approaches Gabriel. That matches what episode 1 showed. Such times are when it is most clearly visible.
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Hairstyle Changes
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The hair darkened and lessened in saturation. Besides those changes, the hair tilting to Crowley's right is a little lower for a stronger overall curl for the upper hair going to his left.
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Earthly Objects
(For reference: Earthly Objects)
Aziraphale is touching the doorknob for the outside part of the door and the astragal first. He shifts his touch, so that he ends up touching the doorknob on the inside as well.
He crosses the threshold first but doesn't actually fully close the door until after Crowley has passed him and even stepped down. As I've remarked many times, I've taken note of Crowley prioritizing being first when it comes to the Heaven elevator, but going over the story more closely shows it varies on who can be first in what and how. That confuses me, but I still think, on an intuitive level, it's supposed to matter for the Heaven elevator. This "first" thing is one of my top questions. At the rate I'm going, if it's one of the solvable puzzles, I don't think I can solve it.
I think the Tied Hands finish retying.
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Crowley's right thumb joint touches a jacket edge when Crowley is crossing the threshold near Aziraphale. Aziraphale used his index fingers several times while crossing the street, including one time where a thumb visually touched Crowley's jacket. Still, Crowley's right index finger can be seen "making a point" shortly after that thumb joint touch. It's not as clear as other times, but it's there and likely assisted from all of Aziraphale's index finger use.
The strands push off the apparel for a bit, lining up with Crowley's left arm, then making pockets with the door windows twice, as Crowley himself moves.
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When he keeps moving, his watch is also visible. As he's stepping down is the strike that I think is meant for a lapel edge as part of the retying process. He is making a pocket with his legs. This pocket is mostly his left leg, some books, and the bottom of the screen.
A little more happens with one of the strands shooting forward more than the other, so the tassel is quite loose. When it comes back to Crowley's chest, the strands collectively push off again to make a brief pocket before returning to their usual place on the shirt and vest.
With that, I think they are finally officially re-tied.
Crowley is quick to grab an earthly object himself. He picks up a Jane Austen book.
When Gabriel appears, he's holding books and shelving them.
Now it's time for the next touch of The Sunglasses Trick.
Here is a GIF:
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This time, we're at the first Single of a group of three Singles that become a Triple.
These touches are based mainly on Crowley using different sunglasses and hissing for each touch. They occur all in a row.
The different sunglasses are what help determine this group of three is the group of Singles that become a Triple.
The hisses are the commonality found between these touches that allow the switch to the Triple at all. By hiss, I refer to a subtle demonic hiss sound effect Crowley has when he removes the sunglasses. These things are not easily heard; it's something I learned about browsing Tumblr, listened, and eventually grasped when actually putting these pieces together.
These hisses are also, in my opinion, a hint about Crowley's POV on the story.
For these Singles, there is an extra factor of an earthly object is always "held".
The earthly object this time is the Jane Austen book. Up next, will be crows that are turned into goats, understood as a miracle hold of those animals. Third, will be a glass of wine. These earthly objects look to be an interesting requirement for this part of the Trick, given that the Threshold Tricks themselves are careful about when and how earthly objects are avoided. The Perfect Entrance Trick showed us they aren't completely avoided so much as they are managed with the game's mechanics—in that case likely neutralizing the window pane of the door.
So, if you want to get really silly on thinking that Crowley is just amazing and powerful, he's too powerful to hiss alone and needs the earthly object to control and lessen the impact of the hiss. Or something. Blaming pockets is usually a good option in the game too.
Now, did this Single have overhead lights? Probably, but I don't fully understand the finer mechanics of what's happening so can't explain it well.
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Crowley may have received overhead lights as early as when he grabbed the book, but we'll cover that part later with the story commentary.
Before Crowley walks closer to Gabriel, there are three lights to his left and above his ear. When he walks closer, those lights become blurry. He fully obscures one and partially obscures another. There are even more other blurry lights above his ear and to his left. There is a small set of three closer to the ones he's already possibly using. Then there are another two partly shown lights near a pillar. These lights look like they could be for Aziraphale since they are closer to him and to Aziraphale's right. The possible issue there is that Aziraphale's right ear isn't showing, and he's not capitalizing on the Metatron's mistakes, like he does in episode 6 for The Door Catch.
Another confusing factor for the overhead lights is that the next touch almost certainly doesn't have them during the actual touch because it's in the minisode. So, these lights could be like an extra reserve for that upcoming touch, especially since lights will again be shown with Crowley right before the minisode starts.
Since the Belt Head is ensured to be visible when the touch starts, that does suggest to me that these lights are relevant.
Another thing that happens is how amazingly fast the Tied Hands are retied after the touch. Crowley is making a point with his index finger while touching the book. That touch is still on camera when the sunglasses are removed from the face. He's making a pocket with his left jacket sleeve and left jacket torso. The clasp strike to a lapel edge most likely happens near the end of the cut. There's no visible thumb joint of his up to anything, but something can be found with Gabriel.
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After a few cuts, Gabriel's left thumb MCP joint can be found near his jacket—particularly, his jacket pocket. Meanwhile, the CMC joint is near the edge of the jacket itself. Aziraphale is visually pocketed between Crowley and Gabriel. So, by then, the Tied Hands are probably retied before the minisode actually starts. After this possible thumb joint assist, the Belt Head also gets an extra shot before the minisode starts.
That was plenty of pocket stuff, but let's go over the other pocket stuff not mentioned yet.
For some reason, there's a brief cut where Crowley is visually pocketed between Aziraphale and a pillar as he realizes Gabriel is there.
A notable pocket is that when Crowley stands on the rug, his leg, presumably, is making a pocket with an already existing shadow on it. I don't know what's actually casting that already existing shadow on the rug. This pocket remains for three cuts before Crowley removes his sunglasses.
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Additionally, when this shadow pocket is active, Crowley's right hand is rather particular about its position. The jacket sleeve, shirt sleeve partially out, and the right hand make a small brief pocket with the jacket lower right side below the belt. The pocket is shown again in the second cut, briefly obscured by Gabriel's left arm. When Gabriel talks about the people who were just in the shop, and Crowley slightly raises his head in interest, the pocket stays on for the full cut.
It's gone when Crowley finally moves to remove his sunglasses.
With the touch on the sunglasses, a pocket forms between Crowley's right hand, right cheek, and right shoulder. Yet another pocket forms between his left side torso of the jacket and left jacket sleeve. Still, a third pocket appears between his legs and the bottom of the screen.
When asking Gabriel what is the very first thing he remembers, a small pocket forms between Crowley's right arm, Gabriel's right thumb, part of his own jacket sleeve, and right index finger. As such, there's a pocket between Gabriel's right hand and the bottom of the screen.
After these pockets disappear is when Gabriel himself is visibly overcome, fluttering his eyes and tensing, before his eyes turn to a glowing purple.
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Before Crowley gets his overhead lights with the minisode about to start, there is a self-made pocket of hair that can be found. Since the area is dark or dim, and Crowley's hair is dark, it's actually found to contain some of the books from the upper floor to help make it more clear that it's actually there.
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Then Crowley gets those earlier mentioned overhead lights. It's a set of three with one partially obscured, so that's one for his regular head and one for his Belt Head, theoretically. He's going to be wearing a headband during the minisode. This part happens as the camera pans closer to him and Aziraphale with Crowley presumably the one meant to receive a stronger focus. Aziraphale is still on screen and will still be around when the incoming part of this minisode concludes. As such, this recollection of the memory will be shared.
Setting aside the pockets, something I find interesting with the earthly objects is that Gabriel had just finished putting books away when Crowley hissed at him with the sunglasses touch. As in, I think the reason it hurt as much as it did was because Gabriel wasn't touching an earthly object himself anymore. He'll receive another hiss later, but he will be touching an earthly object because he'll be sitting on a bed.
That hiss won't affect him in the same way though it will also be after the special connection between Crowley's and Aziraphale's homes has formed.
It's a small theory of mine that the earthly objects help the supernatural beings feel more strongly anchored while on Earth itself. Gabriel quickly reaches out and touches a shelf, for example.
This idea is part of what the Final Fifteen is about. Both Crowley and Aziraphale—on a layered level—know they shouldn't be touching earthly objects. They have to let go. They're saying good-bye for now, not just to each other, but to this special place, most of their shared home they established on Earth. They have to go because they have work to do.
The part of the shared home that stays with them is Crowley's plants and the maintained Green of the Rainbow Connection.
...
For my tangential reading in a desperate attempt to improve my play, I'm still re-reading the Good Omens book. Besides imagination, as noted in my pub visit post, there's plenty of mentions of memories and games. Agnes' prophecies are based on her remembering bits of the future. Anathema words things like so, "You see, it’s not enough to know what the future is. You have to know what it means."
Here's an excerpt about Adam and games:
Adam also had a small computer. He used it for playing games, but never for very long. He’d load a game, watch it intently for a few minutes, and then proceed to play it until the High Score counter ran out of zeroes. When the other Them wondered about this strange skill, Adam professed mild amazement that everyone didn’t play games like this. “All you have to do is learn how to play it, and then it’s just easy,” he said.
Ha! Well, Earthly Objects in Good Omens 2 definitely isn't easy.
Otherwise, I've also started on The Sandman Volume 3. Shakespeare has just shown up again. Something's going on with A Midsummer Night's Dream, so now I'm sad I've forgotten so much of that play. We performed it at my high school. I was just an extra. Still, I remember being quite fond of the play itself.
A quote from The Sandman Volume 3 that I've logged as something to keep in mind for Good Omens 2 is, "Dreams shape the world."
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Story Commentary
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When Crowley enters, he is given significant focus when he looks at the bookshelf to grab the Jane Austen book. He gets special music for looking at the books and a massive lighting hint to pay attention to him. He is almost a silhouette as the light from the windows surrounds him. It's a beautiful shot.
Well, we've already paid plenty of attention to him, but let's look again for anything else not already covered, especially in the cut itself.
He is pocketed between a dark horse statue and the bookshelf.
Another dark horse statue was important for being the earthly object he placed his sunglasses on in episode 1. He's about to do that first Single-for-eventual-Triple touch for the The Sunglasses Trick during this cut. The phrase "dark horse" has already been used twice in the show with Crowley specifically saying it regarding Jane Austen earlier in this episode. This statue disappears during the ball but is back in place after Crowley cleans up the bookshop in episode 6.
The window Crowley's in front of is important because it is broken during episode 5 and remains broken until he fixes it in episode 6. I suspect there is something important about it being broken while he's in Heaven, just intuition there. Another thing is that when that windows is broken, it has a role to play for The Pocket Trick's Single. For this cut, there are three lights visibly over Crowley's head.
As noted earlier, they could be an early link for overhead lights regarding the sunglasses touch(es), leading from one set to the next, managed by the book being held.
Speaking of the book, what about the overall group of books? Well, they're possibly in a book for this story. I know posts have been made about how The Final Fifteen is like proposals out of Jane Austen books, Pride and Prejudice in particular. It kinda is, but there's a special proposal that happens later this episode, in my own understanding of the story.
It's been a long time since I've read any Jane Austen books myself, and I don't remember them well so can't contribute much on that end.
Otherwise, hey, look at Crowley. He himself is important, especially this episode. He's conceivably best player in Earthly Objects. He's got his tactical turtleneck today, and he hasn't even started on The Pocket Trick yet. It's gonna be a big deal.
Alright enough of that.
...
The cardboard box can again be found without Crowley bothering to look at it in his line of sight during the scene.
...
This scene is interesting and open to plenty of speculation on what happens after Crowley hisses.
Crowley himself seems taken aback at Gabriel's reaction. Yeah, Crowley hissed, but he wasn't expecting that. "That" being glowing purple eyes with a quote from God to Job.
It's also part of the idea of compelling someone for an answer that I mentioned in the post about when Crowley first encountered Gabriel in episode 1.
The way Aziraphale looks at both of them and Crowley's own reaction to Gabriel struggling suggest that Crowley himself has been in a similar position to Gabriel.
As in, Crowley has also forgotten things, struggled to remember them, and had to mentally plow through the challenges to recover what he could.
Aziraphale has been around for that difficulty.
For Crowley's reaction, I'm mainly referring to that he seems to be breathing nervously as he watches Gabriel, while Aziraphale is glancing between both of them.
...
On the subject of the sideburns and rank, Aziraphale is still ultimately in charge of his own space. He's the one who tells Gabriel to go and have a rest. Gabriel pauses a moment to look at Crowley, as if for approval. With no sign of disapproval or Crowley trying to make him remember yet again, that's enough to go ahead and leave the area.
...
I can see the red on the back of the collar on Crowley's jacket in at some points in the scene though it's blurred:
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...
That's it for this post. Sometimes I edit my posts, FYI.
...
Main post:
The Sideburns Scheme
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death2you · 11 months
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just finished yakuza 0…
#flashing.#well not Technically. i beat the game like three times and it kept crashing at the credits so im giving up for today :thumbsup: but i saw#the post credit scene. with makoto and the watch😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 im fucking killing myself ... the fact that majima just had 2 give everything#up. literally everybody who cared or interacted with him died in some way and its like. 😟😟 bro what the fuck...#i understand why he felt some typa way toward sagawa and makoto but i feel like they could've done a little bit more with nishitani...#i liked his character though so i GUESS they've done their job but. i wouldve loved having more scenes w/ majima & nishitani before he die#yakuza 0 REALLY loves killing its characters though. nobody was fucking safe!! fuckin tachibana oda nishitani sagawa awano... FUCKING LEE..#i LOVEDDD nishiki though. every emotional scene he was in just slayed so hard. literally stole the show..#the scene in the forest where he tried to spare kiryu and the scene on the boat where he said that he wanted to cross the line together.#NISHIKIYAMA AKIRA YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!#the ending part where they tell everybody's futures really worried me though.. like 😟😟😟 what do you mean nishiki changes. what happened..#when i first saw that i instantly thought about the cliche in black movies where they tell every1's future at the end 😭😭#OVERALL. I REALLY REALLY ENJOYED THE GAME!!!! it wasnt too hard maybe a little bit easy toward the end but such a lovely cast of characters#& the substories and things you could do in sotenbori & kamurocho is really fun ^___^#after i try and Officially beat the game i wanna try and 100% everything.. i might not do Everything but most of it i wanna do#like the five billionaires/stars storylines & stuff... but thats if i can even officially complete the game...#oh god such long tags. anyway.#canon that majima has legendary pussy#95
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
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Title: Coveted.
Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader (+Yandere!Gojo) [JJK].
Word Count: 1.1k.
TW: Set Two or Three Years Post KFC Break-Up, Intimidation, Prolonged Stalking, Future Dub/Con, Mentions of Non/Con, and Unbalanced Power Dynamics.
[Part Two]
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“You’re Satoru’s date, right?”
The voice was masculine, deep and as rough as it could be without crossing the line into gravelly. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders and burrowing your nails into your palm as your eyes darted across the table – where a man with dark hair and an off-putting smile was currently sliding into the unoccupied side of your booth. He reached out, clearly planning to shake your hand, but when you failed to move, he only let out an airy chuckle, propping his chin on his fist as he went on. “I’m a friend of his – Geto Suguru. You can call me Suguru-chan, though. Has he already told you about me?”
He was dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed – his attire limited to a form-fitting black shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants in the same color, his hair pulled into a loose bun. His tone was friendly, light. You returned it with a dead-pan stare, hoping it conveyed the weight of your exhaustion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Is that what he told you to say?” Another laugh, somehow more blood-chilling than the first. Your attention shifted outward, to the late-night diner where Gojo had asked you to meet him. There were only a few other customers, the skeleton of a proper staff, but single other person would’ve been one too many. You didn’t need to make a scene, not again, not after last time. “That sounds like him. He’s always been a stingy bastard.”
With a pressed frown, you pushed yourself to your feet, but Geto’s grin only broadened. He snapped his fingers and as if it’d only been waiting for a queue, a shape manifested at the end of your bench. You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly at it, but you saw enough out of the corner of your eye; a bulbous torso, shrunken arms, too many eyes to resemble any living thing. Instantly, what little courage you still had was replaced with a knot of dread, a bolt of pure anxiety. You half-expected it to lunge, to bite, to attack, but it didn’t move, only standing guard at the foot of your table.
It didn’t move, but it didn’t have to. In a moment, you’d fallen back into your seat and shoved yourself against the wall, fighting not to shake. It was a sight Geto seemed to take a particular joy in, letting his head lull to the side as he watched you curl into yourself. “You can see them. I was starting to think I had the wrong person.” A pause, a glance towards his summoned monster before his narrowed gaze skirted back to you. “Don’t be shy, now. How much did he tell you?”
It took you a moment to find your tongue, another to swallow back the tremor in your voice. "He said he could protect me.” It was harder to admit than you’d expected – not so much that you needed protection, but that there was something you needed protection from. You’d spent so long writing off your monsters as hallucinations that it was still a struggle to act like they were anything more. But, for as unwilling as you were to confront your little monsters, the resounding ache in your right leg where that thing had dug its claws into you was impossible to ignore. “He… he didn’t mention anyone else, but we’ve only spoken once. He was supposed to explain—” You gestured to the monster. “—all of this today.”
A slight hum, a look of genuine surprise. “So, he’s got some self-restraint after all! I thought he would’ve cracked months ago, considering how long he’s been following you around like a lost puppy.” He must’ve seen your expression fall, your posture slacken, because he didn’t wait for a response before going on. “I mean, you must’ve known that, at least. Did you think he’d play knight-in-shining-armor for just anyone?”
“I…” You trailed off quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t care. As long as he can protect me, I don’t care why he’s doing it.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to say. You wouldn’t want to make Satoru feel so replaceable, now, would you?”  
At that, you met his stare. “What do you want?”
His eyes skirted towards the monster, who took an obedient step back. For a second, you considered running, trying to slip away before the man in front of you or your newly-realized stalker could make you regret ever showing up at all, but Geto was quick to cut off your escape route, filling the empty space beside you before you could so much as pick which door you would barrel through on the way out. “Well, now that we’re on the same page,” Unlike his monster, he didn’t give you the option of leaving him in your peripheral; settling close enough for his leg to press into yours. At this proximity, you could pick up the smoke on his breath, the scent of stale gore clinging to him like a second skin. As if he’d just stepped out of a blood bath. “I’d like to make you an alternative offer.”
“You’d protect me?”
“Oh, I’d do more than just that.” His hand fell to your thigh. “I’d have everything you’ve ever been afraid of bowing to you by the end of the night.”
You swallowed dryly. “You didn’t answer my first question. What do you get out of helping me?”
His answer was nonverbal, but clear enough. With that same idle grin, he nodded toward the streaked window, to the building across the street. Your heart fell into your stomach. It was one of those sleazy, by-the-hour hotels – the sign missing more than a few letters and the parking lot as empty as the diner. It was the kind of place that you only went to for one thing, and you had a feeling Geto hadn’t found some miraculous second reason to want to be alone with you in one of those bug-infested rooms.
You weren’t sure why you said it. Maybe to buy yourself time. Maybe because you couldn’t stand the idea of being left in silence as what was left of your rational mind screamed at you to get out of there. “I don’t have any money.”
“It’ll be my treat.”
“What happens I refuse?”
“I kill everyone here,” His nails bit into exposed skin. “And then fuck you on this table while their bodies attract flies.”
You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so tired.
You might’ve done anything, if you could bring yourself to care about anything but keeping those awful creatures at a distance.
Stiffly, with your eyes shut and your teeth grit, you forced yourself to nod. Geto rewarded you with an impossibly wide grin, a breath of a laugh. “Smart little thing.”
This time, he didn’t pretend it was an option; reaching out, taking your trembling hand in his own, and squeezing so softly, you could almost convince yourself he was being gentle.
“It’s only a shame Satoru isn’t here to join us.”
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 3 months
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Firsts
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pairings - Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
summary - Rafe was always there for your firsts.
warnings - drinking, drugs, language, fem receiving oral. (18+)
An/ I have other fics I should be finishing but this came to me this morning and I needed to write it!
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Rafe Cameron.
Rafe Cameron was your first everything.
First friend, first girl boy hug, first kiss, first touch, first time, you hadn’t expected him to be your first heartbreak though.
Having been friends with him the moment your eyes landed on the quiet boy who sat on the browning grass, staring out at the kids playing. You can still remember the slight scowl on his chubby little face, you took it upon yourself to be friends with him.
Surprisingly he wanted to be your friend just as much as you wanted to be his, from that moment on the two of you were inseparable. It helped that you moved in next door to him, your parents becoming fast friends.
Throwback to the ripe age of 18, the night he broke your heart. You weren’t together, you were just best friends. Best friends that shared each other's firsts and seconds and so on. Neither of you put a label on the love you shared.
You wished you had though, the moment your eyes landed on his hands laced through Rebecca Jones’s tiny delicate hand, you knew that was the end.
He didn’t greet you that night, didn’t pull you into his famous bone crushing hug or whisper about how annoying everyone was. Instead he ignored you, Rebecca and his friends followed behind him as though he was royalty.
He wore a frightening smirk on his face the whole night, shoved at JJ Maybank who was hired as wait staff along with a fair few other pogues. Made a scene and called them names, at one point his father even had to get involved.
You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of the man in front of you, no longer the person you wanted to share your firsts with.
Fast forward to 21, you haven't spoken to him in three years. You couldn’t deny you missed him deeply, his picture still hung from the thin string lining your bedroom wall. But it was only one photo compared to the 300 you had tucked under your bed along with other memories.
It was your birthday, your eyes skimmed the people in the garden setting up for your party. Your eyes shooting to the silk black dress that hung in the doorway of your ensuite, darting your eyes back over the lawn and up at the tall house beside yours.
Your eyes search for a glimpse of Rafe but no life was found in the windows or the balcony. Letting out a soft sigh, you pushed yourself to stand. You didn’t have much time to get ready, your friends would be here soon and would want to start drinking the moment they stepped into your room.
45 minutes later you found yourself on the back porch, nursing a pornstar martini that your friend Elle had made. People had started to arrive and the sun had begun to set, your eyes searching through the sea of people for Rafe. You knew he wouldn’t show, even though at the age of 12 he promised to throw you the biggest 21st, just like the people on tv.
“Hey!”
You jumped slightly in your seat at the brazen voice, eyes landing on your friends who stared at you with worry. “What?” You questioned, grabbing a napkin you dabbed at the liquid that ran down your chest.
“I said, Barry is waiting for you by the side gate”.
All you do is nod and stand, Elle passes you the envelope of cash and keeps her eyes on the people around her. Tucking the folded up envelope in your bra, you make your way to the side of the house.
The music is loud and everyone is having a good time, your parents have gone out for the weekend to give you some space. Your friends had decided they wanted to buy something stronger than weed but were too scared of Barry to organize it themselves, but you apparently had no fear these days.
“Princess”
You knew you made a mistake instantly, Barry lent against the fence in a wife beater and ratty shorts. Smoke surrounded his face, stepping out of the dark he stopped in front of you.
You stood at the same height as him, if you had opted for heels you would have towered over him. “That dress looks good on you”.
“Here’s your money”
He cocked his head and kissed his teeth, eyes roaming your body unashamedly. You take a step back but he’s quick to step forward, gripping your wrist that held the envelope. “How about I give you something that’ll blow your mind but you pay a different way”
You shook your head instantly, you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, the way his eyes darkened at the sight of you. “No I don’t think so… take the cash”
A throaty laugh escapes his lips and he tugs you towards him, your palm smacks his chest to keep you from falling into him further. You can smell the cigarette on his breath, scrunching your nose up when his lips ghost your cheek. “How about you get on your knees and put that pretty little mouth to good use”.
You tug on your wrist but his grip tightens, slipping his tongue out to wet his lips. “I have the cash, please just take the cash”.
His palm meets your shoulder, he uses all his strength to push your body to the floor and your knees hit the gravel. “Barry” you grit, your clenched fist meets his stomach and he doubles over in pain. “You bitch!”.
He coughs loudly and the little baggie falls to the floor, you're quick to grab it and jump up, throwing the envelope to his feet you step back but meet a hard wall. “Do we have a problem?”
All words that sat on the tip of your tongue vanished at the sight of Rafe, his eyes are hard and pointed at Barry. “I have the cash to pay him” your voice is just above a whisper, the skin of your bicep tingles at the feeling of Rafe’s fingers gripping tightly. “I don’t want the cash.. I want her on her knees” Barry growls, he stands up straight and steps towards you again. Pressing your back firmly against Rafe’s chest, he’s quick to pull you behind him. “She’s with me Barry”
“Oh shit man… I didn’t know she was yours!”
“She’s mine”
The goosebumps are back and butterflies swarm your belly, you zone out for what feels like a second but when you come back down to reality, Rafe is ushering you away from the scene, eyes cocking to see Barry hopping on his bike and the envelope you had for him inside his back pocket.
“I didn’t need your help”
You're not sure why you even said that, of course you needed help. There was no way you were leaving with anything unless you sucked Barry off. Rafe ignores you, pushing you forward by your lower back until you're back with your friends. Your fingers tighten around the baggie, hiding it from Rafe’s eyes.
You didn’t care that he knew you were buying drugs, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him snort lines at every party. It just felt strange, your first time doing something harder then weed wasn’t with him.
All your friends' eyes are on the two of you, mouths opened in shock. Before anyone can say anything he’s walking away, slipping into the crowd of people and disappearing. “What just happened?”
“Let’s get high”
The four of you lock yourself in the bathroom, opening the small baggie you pour the contents into your palm. “Did he say what it was?”
You shook your head, placing a small pill on the tip of your tongue. Each of their eyes watch as you swallow, holding out your palm for them to grab.
“I’m scared… I feel like we shouldn’t trust what he gives us”
“It’s fine, if it had been anything bad he would have told Rafe.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do Elle.. take the damn pill”
Each of them grab a pill and swallow, you put the rest back into the bag and hide it under the toilet sink inside your tampon box.
You're out the door before any of them can stop you, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the bench and heading back outside. Your feet take you further into the party, looking for Rafe. You hadn’t expected him to show up, your parents made you invite him since it would have been rude to throw a party next door without inviting your oldest friend.
You spot Rafe instantly, sipping on a beer and leaning against a pole. Topper and Kelce stand beside him as the two of them chat, Rafe’s eyes meet you for a brief moment before turning away from you.
Anger bubbles in your chest, storming back through the party. The bottle of champagne now half empty by the time you make it to your bathroom, the anger fuels the stupidity in your brain.
Grabbing the pills from the tampon box you take another, wanting the effects of the drug to hit you faster. But by the time you’ve taken the last step of the patio you're swaying, throwing your arms out to brace yourself. “Shit” you laugh, the empty bottle of champagne hitting the grass with a thud.
“Come dance!” Elle shouted, her tiny arms waving above her head. With wobbly legs you make your way to your friends, dancing wildly with them until a hot body comes up behind you and circles their arm around your waist, pressing you firmly to their crotch. “Hey”
You let the person dance against you, hands wandering your thighs and your stomach. The fingers of the stranger behind you brushes the underneath of your breasts before groping a handful, your mouth parts just a tiny bit and your ass presses firmer against him.
“What the fuck?”
Spinning on the spot at the loss of warmth behind you, the guy who had been dancing with you was on the floor. Rafe towered over you once again, his fingers grip your bicep and he’s pulling you away from the party. You notice no one watches the two of you, music drowning out any chatter around them.
“Rafe! What the hell is your problem!” You growl, wriggling in his grip only causing further pain to your arm. You give up rather quickly and let him drag you back into the house, pushing you through the door of the downstairs bathroom and closing the door behind him.
You press up against the bathroom sink and cross your arms, your eyes drift up and down his body. You can hear the harsh breaths Rafe was letting out, his forehead creased in anger. “I haven’t spoken to you in 3 years… you can’t just show up and manhandle me”.
His eyes meet yours finally and he takes a step closer, not close enough for you to touch him though. His cologne invades your nostrils and your cheeks heat from the memories of his hands on your body. “If you're not going to talk I’m leaving… it’s my birthday”.
His eyes finally drop from your eyes and he takes in your body, starting at your sneakers, drinking in the sight of your slender long legs, stopping for a tad longer on your breasts and then back up to your eyes.
You can hear your heartbeat in your ear, Goosebumps litter your skin and you have to brace yourself against the vanity table, legs wobbling from his gaze. “Happy birthday”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your shoulders relax at the sound of his voice. A voice you hadn’t heard up close in so long, a voice you dreamt about every night. “Thanks”.
The both of you are silent again, the sound of the party behind the door grows louder as the drugs start to lose their effect. “You look nice”
“Thanks”
He takes a step closer again, the toes of his shoes meet yours. The two of you look down briefly and then back at each other, you can smell the scotch on his breath, it's intoxicating.
“Rafe” your fingers touch his bicep softly, electricity flows through the tips of your fingers all the way to your heart. “I’ve missed you” he whispers seconds before his lips are on yours, all the memories you share together hit you like a tidal wave. Your knees buckle but he’s quick to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to his chest.
“Missed you so much” he grunts, lips peppering kisses against yours. Down your jaw until they meet the base of your throat and he sucks hard, a soft whine escapes your parted lips. “Fuck”.
He grips your hips and drops you on the vanity table, pushing himself between your parted thighs, the heels of your shoes press firmly against his backside, pulling him closer to you. “You taste so fucking good”.
“Fuck Rafe… just like that” you whine, his hips roll against yours. His fingers grope and massage the skin of your thigh, pushing up the length of your dress to expose your nude thong. Your arousal soaks the front of your panties, your knees try to lock together in embarrassment but his thick frame holds them out. “I still make you as wet as I did 3 years ago” he groans, with one swift movement he’s ripped them at the crotch. Your pretty wet pussy exposed to his hungry eyes, his large hands tug you closer to the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees in front of you.
The sight has you clenching around nothing, arousal weeping from your needy hole. He places your feet on his shoulders and situates himself between your thighs. “Be a good girl for me y/n… let me eat your pussy for your birthday”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod frantically, the tip of his nose brushes your delicate clit. Your hips jut up to his face, a wicked smile paints itself on his lips. His tongue drops out slowly, the sight of the wet muscle has you whining. “Happy birthday sweetheart”
His hot tongue glides between your folds, your head falling back against the mirror in pure delight. “Oh fuck” you cried, pressing the balls of your feet into his shoulders. His hands grip the outside of your thighs, pulling your legs further apart until he can see your cunt in all its glory, glistening from your arousal. He could see your inner muscles clenching at the sight of him watching you. “Please Rafe” you begged, his lips dropped back to your pussy. Sucking and licking your overly sensitive nub, two of his fingers slip between your opening. Your back arching as he tapped at your g spot, you're sure you can see stars as he works himself on your pussy. “Sweet Jesus… Rafe! Yes yes yes”
The grunt of his approval vibrates against your clit, grinding your hips into his face. Your arousal coats his lower half, nose red from pressing himself so deep into your cunt. “I’m close! Rafe… right there! Holy shittt” your screams can be heard outside the bathroom door, the grip on your thighs are tight as he holds you close to him. You ride out your high, a thin layer sweat coats your chest and forehead. The back of your head hurts from the brutal force of you pushing against the mirror to steady yourself, you watch in silence as Rafe pulls away from you. Just as you open your mouth there are loud bangs on the bathroom door.
“Rafe! Man! Rafe quick Rebecca is outside looking for you!”
He’s out the door in seconds, leaving you alone and feeling dirty. Pressing your thighs closed you let out a silent sob, tears stream your face as you clean yourself up and throw away the ripped panties.
You take a few moments to calm down and slap some sense into yourself, you should have known Rafe was still seeing her. You should have told him to leave the moment he turned up, he was the Rafe you knew.
You exit the bathroom quietly and rush back downstairs in search of a drink, grabbing ahold of the tequila bottle.
As you step onto the patio, your friends quickly greet you. Your eyes stay on Rafe though, ignoring the chatter behind you, your eyes fall to the hand of Rebecca’s, it lay upon his chest in a gesture of adoration. A beautiful diamond placed upon her ring finger, the butterflies in your belly all but die. The beating of your heart is the only thing you hear, he notices where your eyes have landed and he is quick to place his much bigger hand over hers, hiding the beautiful ring from your vision.
He’s engaged.
Rafe Cameron got engaged.
Rafe Cameron had his first engagement and it wasn’t with you…
“Come on let’s go dance” Elle says, noticing the way both you and Rafe stare at each other. You squeeze your eyes shut for a brief moment when Rebecca reaches up to kiss his cheek, bringing the bottle of tequila to your lips. The alcohol burns your throat in the most satisfying way.
Your eyes open to catch the worry that finds its way onto his features as he watches you throw back way too much alcohol for your small body.
“Let’s get fuck up” you exclaim, walking away from your friends and towards the bar your parents had hired for the night.
“4 shots please… actually nah, just give me that bottle of whiskey”.
🏷️ Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @maybankslover @h34rtsformilli @hallecarey1 @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @gabys-gabs @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @bbycowboi @jscameron @rafegirly @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @loverofdrewstarkey @ijustwanttoreadlols @spookyscaryspoon @ailee-celeste @ashpeace888 @xo-hayleyy-xo @ethereal0810 @tayygriffith @pankowperfection @oceandriveab @slut4ani @spideysimpossiblegirl @kamninaries @rubixgsworld @pickingviolets @wearemadeofstardust0 @one-sweet-gubler (if I have forgotten you please let me know)
2K notes · View notes
ma1dita · 3 months
Text
partners in crime
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luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader [the trouble!verse]
MAIN SERIES MASTERPOST
summary: few things are certain in this life as a demigod, but one thing is for sure— you can’t fight fate when it pulls you and luke castellan together, over and over again. two young people who hate the gods are more like them than they think, for better or worse. annoyances to best friends to lovers
things to know: dionysus!reader's nickname is trouble & most of these can be read as standalones!
here's a playlist (spotify & apple music links now available!)
child of dionysus headcanons!
trouble!verse moodboard 1 & moodboard 2 & college!trouble by the lovely @24kmar
deleted scenes from a different universe (AUs)
play the extended cuts (blurbs from in-between)
character study: luke castellan & trouble
any works, updates, thoughts, musings, etc about this series will be tagged under #trouble!verse !
key: fluff - ☼ angst - ☽ smut - ☆ jo's favorites - ᥫ᭡
[rewind to before] pre-established relationship
trouble always finds me (trouble!reader origin story) 1.7k ☼
The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. (You're an annoyance, but not an enemy)
entropy ☼
The one where you both blur the lines between annoyance and admiration. (the promise of becoming partners in crime)
buddy system 4.2k ☼
The one where he comes with you to rescue your younger twin brothers, Pollux & Castor. (this is as close to a real quest that Mr. D will give you--might as well take someone you trust!)
somebody's angel 4.4k ☽
The one where you convince him he’s pretty, even with a scar. (songfic - Die Alone - Finneas)
feed the fire 1.2k ☼
The one where his focus is not on spilled food, but on you. (Luke realizes this is more than playful banter)
bedtime stories 2.4k ☼
The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don’t mind at all. (the both of you have feelings you want to admit, but duty calls!)
crazy little thing 3.4k ☼
The one where he uses all his drachmas to make you smile on Valentine's Day. (the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite, sometimes)
anything you want 1.6k ☼
The one where you and him have your first kiss. (You've always loved teaching the story of Orpheus and Eurydice; except when your Orpheus runs away from you)
said he likes crazy 2.1k ☼ ☽
The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's avoided you since your first kiss. (For being a son of Hermes, he has a way of calming your nerves)
[pause and remember us like this] established relationship
play pretend 5.1k ☼
The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren’t exactly together yet. (Drunk words are sober thoughts. Your dad just wishes Luke told you instead of him)
a wish your heart makes 1.4k ☼ ☽
The one where you share dreams, burn cookies, and it still reminds him of home. (The dryads will probably ban you from the kitchen after this)
chance encounters ☼
The one where you both daydream about different lives. (You think you'd find him anywhere, by soul alone)
to see the chaos through ☽
The one where he remembers he was never a good guy, just yours. (Luke makes the ultimate deal with the devil in order to save you)
not your goddess ☽
The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. (songfic - Goddess - Laufey)
don't blame the kids ☼
The one where you both chaperone a trip to Mount Olympus. (the Olympians are bigger gossips than you thought they'd be)
trouble's coming for you 3.7k ☼
The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. (three times Percy is oblivious (and in the way) and the time he realizes you and Luke are in love)
now that we're older 3.5k ☼
The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. (Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl)
if you need to be mean (be mean to me) 1.5k☽
The one where he leaves before you wake up. (songfic - I Don't Smoke - Mitski )
[fast forward until we meet again] post-tlt
lovers, or partners in crime 2.1k ☽
The one where Annabeth and Percy think you’re guilty too. (the last day leading up to Luke's betrayal)
love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke 4.7k ☽
The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they’re still alive. (the five stages of grief after facing a loss)
to catch a thief 3.7k ☼ ☽
The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. (Your reunion with Luke isn't quite what you expected.)
solipsism 5.3k ☽
The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. (the four times Luke uses Backbiter to visit you during college ft. the first time you trust a god to help you)
angel with a broken wing ☼ ☽
The one where he falls from grace and still thinks of you. (the four women Luke Castellan risked it for and how it will end up killing him)
love me dry (LATEST ADD) 4.5k ☼ ☽
The one where he meets you at his mother's house, though both of you didn't expect the other to be there. (a glimpse into May Castellan's idea of a perfect day)
when the curtains close☽
The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Annabeth and Pollux find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.)
asking for trouble ☽
The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all)
as above, so below ☽ ☼
The one where you plead your case with the gods of Olympus. (The one thing the fates didn't expect was how much you'd both be like your fathers; in a way, you and Luke didn't see it coming either)
ask to be added to luke/general taglist 🥹
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list of things that made me scream in pjo episode 3
Percy picking grover because he trusts him not to betray him!!! THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS OK
Luke still comes off as so likable and inconspicuous that whole convo he had with percy and the shoes i just
GROVER AND THE CONSENSUS SONG I CANT
annabeth staring at the different flavors of candy in the gas station and not being able to pick and just buying all of them. Thats the annabeth we deserve
ANNABETHS KNIFE APPEARANCE ALERT and a fury is IMMEDIATELY killed
uncle ferdinand foreshadowing……………
When annabeth and percy start arguing in the woods and grover tries to change the subject by talking about his uncle and they both completely ignore him. I LOVE GROVER SO MUCH
the bickering in this episode is ON POINT by the way
like the stuff theyre arguing about makes sense. Yes i would be concerned about those things too
ESPECIALLY since theres such a focus put on trust (esp after percy learns that someone is going to betray him) and percy and annabeth are arguing about stuff theyve lied or havent told each other about???? Sorry that might be skipping ahead a bit but GOD is that the good stuff
i love that they changed how the three of them ended up going into auntie em’s because before it was a little concerning that none of them figured out it was medusa. Plus having a fury outside just adds to the tension a perfect amount i think, because it really traps them in there
all the discussion about the gods and what medusa talks to percy about in the kitchen - YES MAKE ME HATE THEM!! All of this is adding up to lukes motivations making so much sense in the end
ALSO!! Them harkening back to sallys line in the first episode when she tells percy that not all heroes look like heroes and not all monsters look like monsters - they brought it back so perfectly. Percy wanting to trust medusa because of what his mom said, medusa calling Poseidon a monster, ALL OF IT is so good
When theyre down in the basement and grover puts on the shoes and then just fucking. Flies away and disappears into the darkness yelling a little. and annabeth and percy just kind of helplessly watch him go before being like - welp i guess that plans not working. That was peak comedy
them using annabeths hat on medusa and then using it to kill alecto THEY WERE SO SMART FOR THAT!!! Also percy just the invisible severed head was a hilarious concept to me
when percy suggests burying the hat in the ground with the hat on to make sure no one bad finds it and annabeth just!!! Agrees!!! And then grover has to be like no that hats important to her its a gift from her mother!!! And then percys like well we’ll find another solution then. That whole scene was good yes i liked that
also annabeth revealing that grover was her protector too and percy asks about it and grover just changes the subject and doesnt answer. He is the KING of avoidance
also grover finally interrupting annabeth and percy when they start fighting and giving his whole speech about getting along. That wouldve felt a little cheesy and preachy and out of place from anyone else but considering grover tried to get them to sing the consensus song a few hours earlier i fully believe that he would say that
I AM IMPERTINENT
Why the fuck wasnt there a lin manuel maranda jumpscare warning. I couldve used one of those
but actually all the jokes in this episode were so on point. Like percy calling drachmas chuckie cheese tokens. And him arguing about voting on the bus. Anyways
10/10 episode i will be rewatching like eight times before next tuesday.
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ajbullet · 4 months
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My thoughts on episode 5 of PJO: spoilers (less points but more info on those points because OMGS)
-Annabeth knowing Percy is still alive when even Grover HIS PROTECTER wasn’t sure
-THE HUG! THE HUG! It wasn’t some awkward oh we have to hug in this scene thing like Leah went for that hug. Gripping his shirt, closed eyes, relieved sigh and all
- The fates were so cool to see. It was funny seeing just three old ladies in the mix of all the other people
- Percy being in shock the entire first part of the quest and now finally asking the important questions and feeling a tad overwhelmed. Such a realistic, delayed reaction to everything to has happened
- Ares. Not what I imagined, but bought into him eventually. It was a cool take on his character
- Not their heads popping up from behind that cement thing like whack-a-moles. Especially Annabeth
- Persassy and Sassabeth were not having it with Ares’ shit. Sassabeth came out of the gate swinging
- Grover staying behind????
- Oh my gods my percabeth heart was filled to the brim. I was on the edge of my seat for their every line to each other. I was INVESTED
- Annabeth hasn’t seen a single movie?? But why does that fit her character so well??? Post credit scene of episode 8 her and Percy movie date please?????
- WHAT IS LOVE BABY DONT HURT ME
- Not Percy using his powers for the FIRST TIME to save Annabeth’s life
- My girl is slaying with her braids and her tears. Love it
- “You’re better that this than me. You know it.”
- SHE. FUCKING. SAID. THE. THING. Where were you when Annabeth said Seaweed Brain for the first time? I was on my couch, crying and screaming and audibly gasping. Almost choked on my own spit (yes that information was necessary)
- He sacrificed himself for her again
- “I’m not leaving the Underworld without your mom” “I was gonna say come free me after the quest” Forgot the exact quotes but omg they know each other so well already
- Annabeth has come so far already. She sees the twisted, manipulative ways of the gods and unseats of accepting it and continuing it and ignoring it, she actively tries to put an end to it. Her friend isn’t “that way.” She is wise enough to know that she once was that way but wants to change. She is the best character not because she is perfect, but because she sees, acknowledges, and accepts her flaws and actively seeks to better herself. Every award to Leah im serious
- “Thanks for the emotional abuse and cheeseburgers” me to my parents 🫣
There’s so much more I want to expand on and point out and talk about but im probably just gonna make separate mini posts. Guys this episode was EVERYTHING
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luvvixu · 4 months
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how to tame your boyfriend
content: bf!gojo, mentioned of sex and sexual stuffs, 16+, fluff, drabble, does not contain any smut, i think gojo's like this can't blame me
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wanna know how to tame your annoying (and horny) boyfriend when your flight is delayed?
that's very easy. just buy him some lego and he would go on instant mute.
"i can't believe you really bought satoru—a full 27 years old ass man—a set of legos?" your friend from the other line, shoko, wheeze and at the same time confused for your action to tame your boyfriend.
sighing hardly while massaging your temple, you answered. "i had to, sho. he won't stop bothering me to have a quickie since our flight was delayed and he was bored."
your flight overseas was delayed for three hours because of some maintenance needed to be checked in the aircraft. now, satoru thought it is a good idea to spend those three hours having a passionate fornication.
of course you immediately dislike the idea even though you are tempted too. you value your morals, ethics, and dignity. unlike your boyfriend, he has no shame and would even proudly tell some random people that you are his by some marks solely created.
"could've played with his phone but seriously, why lego?" shoko was still laughing, now that you opened your camera and showed her your boyfriend who's literally sitting on the airport floor with bricks of lego on his hands.
satoru looked so focused and unbothered, which is an extremely good thing—like he couldn't stop whispers in your ears, whining about how needy he is right now and how badly he wanted you. but now he's occupied, it is the greatest relief for you.
"first, his phone is dead and was tempt to buy a new fucking phone just because he said charging using a power bank takes a lot of time. had to smack the shit outta him and force him to get out of the apple store."
yep, the idiot forgot to charge his phone before you left for the airport. now his phone is dead, the desire to buy a new one instead of waiting for his phone to be charged in a powerbank is crazy. although, money is not a problem for the head of the gojo clan—he got figures that cost more, more, more than your annual salary.
"second, lego made him focused and entertained on building it, not for having scandalous sex with me. i feel like he's being my child than being my boyfriend at this moment." you joked, lowering your voice so your big baby wouldn't hear you.
"you said it yourself that satoru is a full package." shoko rolled her eyes, but she's not wrong tho. satoru is everything, he could easily afford things and could even make some things impossible to possible.
"touché."
shoko let out a laugh. "anyway, gotta go now. got a client in an hour so bye my boo, mwa!" sending also a virtual flying kiss to your platonic friend, you both bid a farewell to with sweet smile on your faces.
as you ended the call, you turned your attention to your boyfriend who's now almost done on his lego that he's been occupying himself for like an hour now.
you made to take some photo of him and post it on your close friends in instagram because this scene of your boyfriend is literally a wholesome and definitely iconic. satoru glanced at you when he heard you giggle at some adorable shots of your boyfriend.
"what are you laughing at?" your boyfriend glanced up to you, confused and warily.
you shook your head, holding your laughter to not raise any suspicion. "nothing babe, just focus on fishing your lego instead of other things."
satoru showed you the figure "oh but i'm finished and we still have like an hour before our flight…" he paused. your mouth hangs wide, questioning about how the hell he builds almost five hundred tiny pieces in just an hour?! truly your boyfriend was really something but this is wild.
"how did you—"
"can we have a quickie now?" satoru smiles sheepishly.
your face turns more sour at his shameless request. although you understand that satoru is a man in need, but his neediness sometimes is really out of place and it took a lot of effort just to stop him from doing so.
"no, satoru. instead, we're going to have a quickie stop at the lego shop to buy you some more entertainment."
your boyfriend pouted at your answer like a hurdled puppy. "but i'm enjoying it more when i'm inside you."
that completely took you off guard.
"... tempting but no."
©luvvixu2023
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heyimkana · 7 months
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24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 1
Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The first episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Humor Word Count: 8K Warnings: whipped, clingy husband!Satoru, sassy!Y/N, shoujo manga inspired backstory, endless sex jokes, and overall cavity-inducing fluff with a little bit of smut at the end (no actual sex scenes...yet)
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Episode 1: Morning
06.02 AM
Your very much-needed sleep abruptly comes to an end the moment your husband’s alarm—not yours—begins to ring, his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his side.  You try to ignore it. You really do. After all, he just let you go to sleep three hours ago.
Granted, yesterday was Valentine’s Day and there was no way someone as insatiable as Gojo Satoru was going to end it with just one or two rounds of normal sex, especially not after he went out of his way, spending hundreds of bucks to buy you a set of lingerie that he’d been dying to see. He made sure to dress you up (you’re his favorite doll after all), his grin plastered ever so cheekily on his face. He held his phone steady in one hand, recording the way you not-so-gracefully stepped outside the bathroom in your new lingerie, dying out of shame because—“What the hell did you buy me?!” Which he casually replied with, “A bunny suit. Now turn around and let me see your tail.” To be honest, that wasn’t even the worst part.
(The worst part was when he said, “Now is my little bunny hungry for some carrots? ‘Cause I got a real nice and big carrot for you right over he—” He didn’t get to finish his line. You punched him.)
The alarm continues to ring, playing a song that you grow to hate more and more each day. “Ugh, turn it off.” 
Satoru doesn’t even stir in his sleep, which comes as no surprise. He’s still lying flat on his stomach, facing you with his cheek drowning in the comfort of his pillow. He looks peaceful. Innocent. Even when his parted lips are still somewhat smeared with the color of your lipstick. And he’s drooling—in an adorable way, of course.
“Satoru.” You nudge his shoulder. “Sa. To. Ru.”
No reaction. It’s like talking to a dead cow. You groan, your upper body pressing against his backside as you reach out to snatch his phone from the nightstand. With bleary eyes, you turn off his alarm before returning it to the table. You fall back to the side of your bed, flinching as your body still feels sore from last night. 
A smile forms on your face. Finally, it’s quiet again. 
You still have two more hours before you have to leave for work. I can still sleep for one hou—
The alarm starts again, playing the same damn song. 
Of course. How could you forget? Satoru’s the type who sets his alarm every ten minutes just because he’ll totally ignore the first fifteen times. Are you really this tired to not remember this? Yeah, probably.
You pull your blanket over your head. Maybe you can just pay no attention to it like your husband.
Just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.
Yeah, you can’t.
You toss away your blanket, frustrated. “Satoru, turn it off!”
Finally, the devil wakes up. He moans, his voice husky and heavy with sleep, sounding so effortlessly sexy but you’re just too irritated to acknowledge it that way. “What’s up with the loud noise..?” Sinking back into his pillow and tugging his bedcover up until it reaches his ear, he mumbles, “Honey, I’m still sleepy… Let’s fuck some other time…”
“Oh, we’ll fuck never if you don’t wake up and turn that damn thing off.”
“It’s your alarm.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes.”
“Toru, it’s literally Hatsune Miku playing.”
He giggles, still with his eyes closed. “I love Hatsune Miku.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” You repeat your motions, basically throwing yourself over him so you can reach his nightstand. Satoru lets out a little oof under your weight, groaning. “Babe, what—” You turn a deaf ear to him, making sure to sink your elbow into his back because he deserves it. Once you get his phone in your hand, you switch it off—the phone, not the alarm. “There. Done.” You slap back his device to the table. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”
You’re about to jump back to your side when a pair of strong arms tangle themselves around your waist, pulling you down until you land face-first on his bare chest. “I don’t think so, pumpkin,” he simpers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck. Suddenly, he’s as bright as daylight. “I can’t believe you’re being so aggressive this morning. Did we not do it enough last night?” He puckers his lips, baby-talking you when he says, “Is my little baby bunny still hungry for her carrot?”
“Satoru, I’ll say this as nicely as I can. Release me now or there will be blood.”
“How is that nice?” He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. He’s hitting thirty and he still thinks he’s adorable when he does that (he is, actually, but let’s not tell him that). 
Now, boyfriend Satoru would have insisted on holding you close, but husband Satoru? Oh, husband Satoru has gone through some pain. He knows better not to test you. He releases you with a sigh, his eyes drooping like a sad puppy as he watches you crawl back to your spot. “You’re so mean.”
“You love me that way.”
The corners of his lips twitch up again. “That I do.” 
Satoru turns around to his side, gazing at you with the bottom half of his face concealed by the blanket he shared with you. He doesn’t really tell this often, but he loves seeing you in the morning like this. That silky nightgown. Those kiss marks on your neck and shoulders. The way your hair is so messy from all the tugging and pulling he did last night. You’re his masterpiece.
“What?” You ask, unable to sleep with how he glues his eyes on you.
“Nothing,” he smiles to himself. “You’re so pretty.”
At this hour? “That’s bullshit.”
“It’s true!”
“Well, thank you for the praise, my dear husband, but complimenting me isn’t going to make me give you a blow job at six in the morning, so can you stop staring and let me sleep? I have work in two hours. One hour and a half now ‘cause you keep on yapping at me.”
To anyone else, you would sound vicious, but like you said so yourself, this is why he loves you. To Satoru, you look the prettiest when you’re annoyed, especially when you’re annoyed because of him. It makes him feel special in such a weird way. Having spent all his life being objectified by women—and men—for his looks, and treated with endless flattery because he came from a prestigious family, you, with your feisty attitude, appeared in his world like a breath of fresh air. 
(Or maybe he’s just a masochist.)
With lips curving in joy, he pokes your cheek. “Babe, babe.”
“Go to sleep, damn it.”
“I will after you answer my question.”
“Just one?”
“Just one. Promise.”
“Fine. What?”
“Do you remember when we first met?”
You open your lids, staring flatly at the ceiling above you. This dumbass is really trying to play his nostalgia card at six in the morning. You take a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He has stars in his eyes. Great. You know he’s expecting a long answer but it’s too fucking early for this. “Yes.”
“You do?” He props himself up on his elbows, his voice a pitch higher. He’s basically sparkling, giddy with excitement. “What was it like for you? What did you think about me? Did you like me from the very first start? Did the world freeze when your eyes met mine? Hehe, I bet you had a massive crush on me~ I see you’re not saying anything so is it true? You totally did, didn’t you? Oh my God, baby, that’s so cute!”
You just lie there on the bed, half-dead, half-deaf, zero energy and he keeps prattling in your ear. “You’re really not gonna let me go back to sleep, huh?”
“Nope,” Satoru replies, making sure to smack his lips in case he wasn’t irritating enough. “Hey, hey, answer me, answer me.”
Somebody kill me, please. “Okay, fine, you wanna know the truth? I used to hate your guts.”
“Eeeeeeeeh?” 
“Don’t eeeeeeh me.” You pinch his cheek, ruining his pretty pout. “We couldn’t stand each other during high school, remember?”
“I never hated you, though?” He’s sliding his arms under his pillow, hugging it close as he peers at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve always found you cute,” he confesses, followed by a girly squeal. Satoru buries his face in the pillow, his legs flapping against the bed. “Aaaaah~ Saying it out loud like that is so embarrassing~”
“I’m gonna punch you.”
“No, seriously. You’ve never heard me saying I hated you, have you? And you know me. I hold my grudges. If I hated you, I would’ve made your life a living hell. But I didn’t, right?” He takes your hand, his thumb gliding across your knuckles before he replaces it with his lips. “I made you the happiest woman in the world instead.”
“With your money.”
“With my love,” he corrects you, flicking your nose. “Do me a favor and try to remember the first time we met. Didn’t I show you enough how much I liked you?”
The first time we met?
Okay, a little flashback.The first time you met him, it felt like you were living the life of a shoujo manga protagonist. Remember all those corny stories you read back in middle school? When character A—a female lead who was so clumsy, it was a wonder she survived the whole trip to school—met character B—the handsome male lead who seemed aloof and mysterious but turned out to be nothing but a warmhearted kid with a traumatizing backstory—in front of the school’s gate where they exchanged long stares filled with yearning and affection even though they just met? It always happened in the spring, for some reason, at the beginning of a new term. There were cherry blossom petals fluttering in the background, the words thump thump and syalala~ scattered all over the page among her inner monologue that went something like, “What a handsome boy… He looks like Prince Charming… And he has such long eyelashes too… Oh no, what is this feeling? Calm down, my heart! At this rate, he’s going to hear it!” Remember those corny lines? Yeah, well, your story went down just about the same.
“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”
“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt!”
“You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”
“HOW DO YOU KNOW I’M WEARING POLKA-DOT PANTIES?!”
Okay, maybe your story didn’t go exactly the same. But it’s true that you first met him in the spring, at the beginning of the school’s term. There were no cherry blossom trees swaying in the background because God hated you and He wasn’t that fond of adding pretty things into your life. Gojo Satoru was pretty, sure, but only until he started yapping. And knowing Satoru, he’s always yapping.
You had promised yourself earlier that day that you’d do better. Be better. No more running late to school, no more procrastinating on your homework, and maybe even try to socialize more with people (you shuddered at the thought). You didn’t wake up late that morning, and you went to school just on time but there was a car accident on your way there, forcing you to take a detour, so—
“I hate my life,” you grumbled to yourself, staring tiredly at your high school’s gate in your fresh uniform that was no longer as crisp and tidy as it was from all the running you did. The huge wrought iron gate was closed and locked. The students were already sitting in rows inside the hall, sleeping through your principal’s morning greeting. You had your bag slinging on one shoulder, your short, pleated skirt swaying as it was kissed by the wind. Your hair was sticking uncomfortably to your skin, glued by your sweat. So much for wanting to keep perfect attendance, you thought. This is the worst.
Little did you know that God in heaven was like, “Worst? Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.”
Because there he was, a devil sent from the deepest pit of hell. Your ‘Prince Charming’, walking out of a fancy black car and kicking the door closed without even thanking the poor driver. Gorgeous silver hair. Electric blue eyes. Piercing in his right ear and a bubblegum lollipop in his mouth. 
Gojo Satoru.
He was a second-year student just like you but that was all you had in common. He was popular, so popular, and you didn’t have to think long to figure out why. He was a prodigy, excelling in both sports and academics, never failing to rank first in every exam, and it was so exasperating because he never seemed to pay attention to any of his classes. He was just born smart. And rich. Always carrying the new iPhone, never wearing the same outfit when he traveled outside. His Instagram was filled with photos of him taking trips to Greece and outer space (not true). His socks were made of rare breed silkworm’s saliva and his shirts were ironed by a dozen crying maidens (also not true). Apparently, his father was this big CEO who worked really closely with the government so you often heard his family name mentioned on TV. And, to top it all, he was handsome. Like unbelievably handsome. Even you had to admit that. Ridiculously tall, naughty smirk, pretty voice. He was the boy that Taylor Swift would make a whole album about.
Lucky bitch.
“I know,” Satoru said, noticing the way you were staring at him as he walked closer to your spot. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, gazing down at you (because, again, he was as tall as a tree) with one corner of his lips raised higher than the other. “I’m handsome.”
You weren’t exactly staring at him because he was handsome—okay, yeah, maybe you did. A little. “You’re late too?”
You had never interacted with him before and you were 99.9% sure he didn’t know your name, so maybe you should’ve started by introducing yourself to him. Or telling him not to be so cocky ‘cause who the hell started a conversation like that?
“Yep.” He plopped his lollipop back into his mouth, coloring his tongue blue. “But unlike you, I chose to be late. Needed my beauty sleep, you see, but you get that.” He stretched out both hands in the air, cracking his neck. A little strip of perfect fair skin was shown above his belt but you looked away, clearing your throat. 
“So,” he yawned. “Are you going to climb first or should I?”
“What?”
“The gate, genius.”
“You want me to climb up the gate?” 
“How else are you planning to go inside?”
“Well, true, but…” You looked around. Your usual school guard was nowhere in sight. Yes, the gate was quite high and you could hurt yourself making your way down but he could lend you a hand, right? It would be easy. You could stealthily slip yourself into the student’s hall after that. No one would notice. There would be no problem.
Well, aside from one thing.
“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”
“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt.”
Satoru arched an eyebrow before he chuckled. “You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”
You blanched. “How do you know I’m wearing polka-dot panties?!”
“Oh, I got it right?” He rolled his lollipop to the side of his mouth for the sake of putting his annoying smile on display. “I must be a psychic or something. On top of my good-looking face? God really does have His favorite, huh?”
“Probably 'cause He feels sorry for giving you such a shitty personality.”
His jaw dropped. He knew he had a shitty personality but he thought girls loved that about him. “Well, aren’t you feisty,” he muttered, and you were worried for a split second that you might have upset him—not that you cared about his feelings specifically, you just didn’t want to jeopardize your connection with him (He was rich, okay? It would be great for your future career if you were friends with someone like him). But then, Satoru stuck his hands inside the pockets of his pants, leaning close with his lips pulled back in a cheeky grin. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Wanna go on a date?”
Oh, that did it. Those little chances of you having a crush on him? Gone. “Gross.”
“Ouch, okay, that actually hurts,” he pouted, rubbing the center of his chest where you just shoved him. After taking a moment to examine your face—you really did look like you wanted to kill him—Satoru gave up with a sigh, shrugging. “Well, whatever. I’m going in.” He pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the gate. “I’ll see you never, Polky.”
“Wait!” 
He clicked on his tongue, turning around to say, “Yell louder, will ya? Our school’s guard is practically deaf but I’m sure people in China would love to hear what you have to say.”
“You’re annoyingly talkative.”
“Part of my charm,” he replied. “I feel bad for you for not seeing it, honestly. Now, what is it? First period’s about to start.”
You thought about it, your eyes flying back toward the double-door gate that was attached to the compound wall. It looked sturdy enough to maintain both of your weights. If you made the jump, you’d still have the chance of being the perfect student for the rest of the semester. But did you really want to ask for his help? He was definitely not going to let it go if that was the case. Oh, you knew he was going to be so annoying about it.
“Any day now, cupcake.”
Yeah, I’m not doing it. You weren’t the type who was so against swallowing your pride if the circumstances demanded you to, but if it involved him? You’d rather die. “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll just go home.”
“What?” He knitted his eyebrows, watching you spin around on your heels. You were truly a piece of work, huh? So stubborn to admit that you needed his help. Throwing back his head and groaning dramatically, he exclaimed, “Ugh, fine. Just give me your bag.”
“What—Hey!” 
With nimble hands, Satoru managed to snatch it away before you could let the thought sink through. He carried it with one hand, not stopping under your command. You chased after him, and you were so close to getting it back before he flung your bag to the other side of the gate—and so carelessly, mind you. 
You watched it land on the ground in horror. “Are you crazy?! I got my iPad in there!”
“Whoops,” he grinned, clearly didn’t feel sorry in the slightest. “Okay, your turn, Princess. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.” 
Ugh, why is this happening to me? Left with no choice, you made your way to him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He bent his body forward, exaggerating a bow. “I meant, it is now your turn, oh her Royal Highness of the Democratic Republic of Polkaland—”
You pushed him down by the shoulders. “Shut up and get down on your knees.”
“Oooh, so demanding~” he cooed, but his flirty tone vanished instantly the moment he felt your foot stepping on his shoulder.  “Whoa, wait—dude, your shoes!” 
Okay, that was your bad. Should’ve taken them off before you did that. Now his black blazer was painted with soil. “Sorry,” you winced. “I’ll help you clean later.”
“Yeah, yeah. You weigh like a ton, by the way.” Oh, you know what? He deserved it. Actually, he deserved more dirt. “Are you rubbing your soles on me?” He gasped.
“You wanted clean shoes, right?”
“Not by using me!”
You ignore him, curling your fingers around the iron bars. “I’m going up. Promise me you won’t look.”
Satoru sighed. “Like I said, I’m not interested in seeing your—aw, aw, aw, aw!” Tears emerged in his eyes. Not only were you stepping on him, you were also using his head to maintain your balance, gripping his strands a little too tightly when you felt that you were seconds away from slipping. “Fuck—Stop pulling on my hair!”
“I’m trying not to fall!” You regained your balance. Feeling a bit sorry, you placed both hands on the bars, gripping them firmly as you stood on his shoulders. You stretched out one arm, fingers clawing against the iron as you tried to reach the top. You got it. Now, all you needed to do was pull yourself up. 
On the count of three. One… Two… Three… Pull!
Eh?
“What now?” Gojo asked, his patience wearing thin. His shoulders were throbbing in pain. You weren’t actually that heavy for him. It was the way you were stepping on him, treating him like mud that’s the issue.
You felt your cheeks growing hot, your voice reduced to whispers when you answered, “I can’t do it.”
“What?”
“I can’t pull myself up, okay?!” You yelled in shame. You had calculated everything except for the part where you barely had any muscles in your arms to carry your own weight. “I’m too weak!”
“And you couldn’t have thought about that before you used me as your doormat?!”
“See, this is why I told you I was going home!”
“But your bag is over there—”
“WHOSE FAULT DO YOU THINK THAT IS?!”
Oh, both of you were giving each other headaches for sure. “Okay, let’s try another plan,” Satoru said. “I’ll go first and I’ll pull you up.”
“Can you? You’re built like a twig and you said I weighed a ton.”
“It was a joke, Polky, lighten up. And excuse me, I have muscles, all right? You just can’t tell underneath all these clothes I’m wearing.”
“It was a joke, Twiggy, lighten up.”
“Oh, you little—”
“Enough, we don’t have much time.” You climbed down his shoulders, exhaling in relief once you were back on the ground. “Want me to give you a push?”
“As much as I would loveto use you as my doormat, I got this.” He brushed the dirt off his shoulder and tossed his lollipop to the nearest bin. “You just stand there and look pretty,” he winked. “And try not to fall in love with me too fast.” 
Before you could land a kick to his shin, Satoru made his leap, making it look so easy that it almost convinced you to give it another go. He sat down on the top rail—thank God, this gate didn’t have any finials—with his legs settled on both sides to maintain his balance. He took a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure you were alone before he tossed his own bag to the ground. “Okay, I think we’re safe.”
Satoru returned his attention to you, and for a moment, you exchanged stares. “What?” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. He just grinned, flashing his teeth and you knew he was up to something again. “No,” you mumbled out as realization dawned on you. “You’re going to leave me here?!”
“Abandoning my princess? Of course not.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Say that you’ll go on a date with me and I’ll pull you up.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Am not.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Well, this is your chance to get to know me,” he smirked. “Come on, just one date. I’ll take you somewhere fancy.”
“Not interested.”
His smile slowly began to fade the more you rejected him. “You’re seriously saying no?”
“Want to hear it in German? Nee.”
“That’s Dutch.”
“Whatever.”
Satoru took a moment to himself, both confused and baffled (and a bit amused, actually). But surely, no one would reject the Gojo Satoru, right? Yet, there you were, glaring at him as you said so. “Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek. You weren’t sure whether he found you vexing or even more… interesting. He accepted his defeat with a heavy exhale, just for now. “Fine. Call me Your Majesty then. If you do it cutely, maybe I’ll pull you up.”
“Oh my God, why are you suchan ass, Satoru?”
“Oh, the princess knows my name!” He claimed in delight, already forgetting the shame from your rejection. “It’s about time you tell me yours.”
“Yes, it’s Miss Fuck Off from Class B. Now, give me your hand and pull me up!”
“Say the magic word then.”
Oh, this isn’t worth it. This is so not worth it. “Fine,” you said, and to his surprise, you whirled around and walked away.
“Wait, you’re leaving?” His smirk faltered. “What about your bag, Sweetheart?”
You didn’t bother to look back. “I don’t care. I’ll get it tomorrow.”
“That’s stupid!”
“I’d feel stupider if I had to kiss your ass.”
“Would you prefer to kiss my lips instead?”
“Goodbye!” 
You stomped away. For a couple of seconds, there was silence, and you thought, oh, I actually managed to shut him up. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back. You might not have your bag with you. Or your wallet. Or your phone. And if you were really planning to go home like this then you’d have to walk for five blocks, but! At least you got to leave him speechless. That was quite an achievement, wasn’t it?
“If you come with me I’ll pay for your iPad!”
You’re back at the gate. “Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand, your majesty?”
Satoru laughed. A genuine laugh actually came out from the devil’s mouth. It almost felt strange. Somewhere deep down, you imagined that he’d have a creepy laugh, or maybe even maniacal. But no. His laugh was so, so adorable. So boyish. So…heartwarming. It was the kind of laughter that would make you smile even when you were clueless of what he was laughing about.
“You’re funny, I like you,” he said, sending tingles to your cheeks which turned you completely into the typical shoujo manga protagonist. 
Eew, what the fuck, did my heart just skip a beat? Gross.
Congratulations. You just had your first shoujo manga-worthy inner monologue.
Satoru extended his hand. “You better hold tight, Princess.”
“If you let go, I’ll kill you.”
“I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Another smile, and there it was again. Your heart doing things inside your chest. You tried to find some excuse, blaming all of this on his looks.
Satoru pulled you up, holding you securely yet so gently by the waist once you reached the top rail. He held you close, noticing how you were shaking a little bit when you felt the fence rattle underneath your weight. This is strong enough to hold us both, right? You couldn’t help but worry. When you were finally sure you were fine, you began to notice the pleasant, intoxicating smell lingering on the little space between you. His scent… It was wonderful—sumptuous and warm, and you figured, that described him perfectly as a person. A mix of cedar woods and cypress, with a bit of sweetness to it. It almost reminded you of—
“The Last Day of Summer.”
You blinked twice. “Huh?” 
“My perfume,” he smirked. “The Last Day of Summer by Gucci. You like it?”
“What—no,” you scoffed. “I didn’t even notice it. You smell like sweat.”
“Is that so?” He was definitely not buying your bluff, but he played along, just for a moment. Satoru leaned in, his right hand moving from the dip of your waist to your wrist, his fingers covering yours. You could feel the tips of his strands tickling your cheek, your body freezing up the moment his breath grazed your neck. You found yourself holding your own, your eyes closing shut when he took a sniff at you.
Wait. Sniff?
Satoru pulled away, scrunching up his nose. “I think that’s you, Polky. Did you miss your shower this morning or what?”
“I will push you.”
“Aaw, but then who’ll help you get back down?” He tugged you toward him, his face hovering just a few inches above yours. He tapped his finger against your nose, matching the words he said, “Not. So. Smart. Are you, baby?”
“You—”
“HEY! YOU TWO!” 
The thundering voice of a man caused you both to flinch. Your gym teacher—Yaga Masamichi—was there, probably glaring from behind his sunglasses and fuming in his sweaty track pants. “What are you doing?! It’s your first day and you’re sneaking out already?!”
“Interesting point,” Satoru answered, unbothered. “We’re actually planning to sneak in.”
“Teacher’s office. Now.” He didn’t have the patience—or maybe the time?—to stay and lecture you both. He walked away, grousing under his breath.
You let out a heavy sigh. It was only ten in the morning and you already felt so tired. Unlike you, Satoru was still brimming with energy. If anything, he seemed even cheerier than before. “Well, it sucks that we got caught but we had fun, right?”
“Let’s just get this over with.”
“Okay, Miss Grumpy.” He so casually ruffled your hair as if you had been friends for years. “I’ll go first.” He hopped off the fence, landing back on earth almost as gracefully as a cat. You wished you could follow his lead but from that height? You weren’t so confident. “It’s all right, Princess,” he said, noticing your worry. “I’ll be here to catch you.” 
That was actually one of your concerns. Not because he didn’t seem like he’d be capable of doing so, but more of what would come after he caught you. 
You’d be… in his arms, right? And then what?
Fuck, it’s just Satoru. You didn’t even care about him until now. Just jump.
So, you did. Without thinking too much about it, you removed your hands from the railing, but you didn’t jump toward him as you were too stubborn—and embarrassed—to do so. The chance of killing yourself over this was close to zero, right? You’d be fine.
You could feel your feet touching the ground. You were okay. Or at least, you thought you were. Your shoes, unfortunately, weren’t made to do such a reckless stunt. Your soles were too slippery, and like stepping on ice, you lost your footing, your eyes burned by the blazing sunlight as you felt gravity pull you down.
Until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist.
“For God’s sake,” Satoru said, and you felt his words reverberating from his chest since you had your face pressed against it. He sighed, removing one hand from your hips to cup the back of your head. “You should’ve jumped towards me, you idiot.” You could feel his long fingers slipping between your locks, forgetting to breathe air into your lungs when he pulled away, gazing at you solemnly. “Look, it’s cute to be stubborn and not want to ask for my help, but what would you do if you got hurt?”
It’s corny to say this (actually, everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes was corny. You weren’t sure why your life—and yourself—had turned into this state. You were doing okay before he showed up in your life.) but you were lost in his gaze. The sky above you was brilliant blue, so breathtaking as it was painted by God Himself, and yet… When you compared that to his eyes... 
They’re so pretty… He has such long eyelashes too…
(You have got to stop reading shoujo manga. Seriously. Maybe head over to shounen. Blood, death, and eternal suffering—that would stop you from thinking about his lashes.)
Satoru was close. So, so close, that a butterfly awakened in your chest.And was it just your imagination or was he leaning even closer to you?
“Huh…” he mumbled out. Locking your eyes together, he gazed deep into yours, not romantically—though you were too consumed by his stare to tell the difference. It was more like… He was in awe. 
You fidgeted. “W-what?”
“Your eye color changes a little under the sun,” he smiled, sweet and youthful. “Pretty.”
Mush. There was only mush in your head. And Satoru. “You—You’re too close! Get off me!”
He giggled, easily catching your hand before you could shove him away. “You’re blushing? So cute~”
“Why are you two still here?!” Yaga, the same teacher from before, returned with a volleyball in hand. Apparently, he left earlier to get his equipment. “Didn’t I tell you to go already?!”
“We’re going!” Satoru released you, clicking his tongue in annoyance—maybe a habit? “I swear to God, that man needs to get laid.”
“I heard that, Satoru!”
“I wanted you to hear that, Sensei!”
“Are you crazy?!” You slapped his chest. “That’s a teacher you’re talking to!”
“Relax, my grandpa owns this school. He can’t touch me.”
Why am I not surprised? Biting back your sigh, you took a step back, only to realize, great, I bruised my ankle.
He noticed, even when you were trying your best to hide it. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” you said, doing as best as you could to walk without limping. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you never.”
He matched your steps. “Did you sprain your ankle?”
“Just a bruise.”
“We should visit the infirmary first, just in case.”
“We?”
“I can’t possibly let you go alone.” He sounded like you were asking a dumb question. “Half of this was my fault anyway.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you threw my bag—”
“Because I’m so handsome that you felt too shy to just jump into my arms,” he spoke over you. His lips curving. “Wouldn’t have injured yourself if you just did what I said. But don’t worry. I’m sure there will be another chance.”
I hope not, you shuddered.
“Seems like you’re in pain, Sweetheart.”
“I’m fine.” 
“Want me to carry you?” He beamed at you. “Piggyback ride? I can do it bridal style too, if you want. It will be so cute, we can head toward the sunset together after school.”
“I’d rather die. And stop following me. I’m heading to the restroom.”
“Running away from me? Coward.”
“You want me to pee on you? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”
“Kinky, but maybe some other time.”
Thankfully though, he listened to you this time, returning back the privacy you’d been craving since the moment he opened his mouth. He watched you walk away, his lips slowly curving back up as a new sense of excitement and joy filled his chest. “Hey, Princess!” He shouted, making sure that you’d hear his next words even with the distance between you. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”
“For what?!”
“Our date!”
“Oh, fuck off!”
And that was it. That was how you met your husband. To sum up, he had no sense of delicacy, he talked too much, had no respect for your personal space, and the way he snickered every time he saw you? Ugh. Yes, he was pretty. Yes, he made your heart race. But you’re not that shallow of a woman to be with someone just because of their looks so nothing ever happened. Not right away, at least.
These childish banters and unfortunate meetings kept occurring during your years in high school. And as if that wasn’t enough, God reunited you once again in college. You thought you were cursed. He thought it was destiny. You still remember how you used to hold yourself back from ripping out his hair whenever he walked up to you, grinning from ear to ear while singing—not calling—out your name. But then you had this one class with him during your final year and your professor put you two on the same project together. You started getting to know him better, and you found out that Satoru had more sides to him, more complex than just a little brat who craved your attention. You got closer. You stopped rejecting his calls. You missed his cheeky grins when he wasn’t around. And when he kissed you when you were crying because your dog just died? It wasn’t that bad. It was comforting. It was warm. And sweet. It was wonderful.
(Yes, out of all the times he could’ve picked, he kissed you after you buried the precious family member who’d wiggled his tail for you for seven years)
And before you know it, he asked you to be his forever and you said yes. Immediately. Undoubtedly. Wholeheartedly. 
“Earth to wifey~” Your husband Satoru pops his head back into your vision. The ceiling that you’ve been staring at for the last few minutes turns blurry behind him. You blink, placing your focus back on him. “You suddenly turned quiet. Is it really that hard to answer my question? Babe, if you tell me you forgot about our first meeting, I’m actually going to shed some real manly tears.”
You heaved out a sigh. “Actually, it’s the opposite. I remember it all too well.”
“Aaaw, baby~” He reaches over to kiss you, only to have you slap a palm over his face.
“Now that I think about it,” you say. “You were so annoying when we first met. And disrespectful.”
He blinks, sweating. “B-babe?”
“Not to mention narcissistic, selfish, impolite—”
“Wait, hold up—What’s going on?!”
“You called me Polky. You called me fat—”
“Wait, this is not the reaction I wanted—You’re supposed to fall deeper in love with me!”
“You threw my bag without permission. You never paid back for what you did to my iPad. You kissed me on my dog’s funeral—oh wow, you were a little piece of—”
“Okay, forget the past, forget the past! Remember that you love me!”
“I think you should go back to your side of the bed.”
“Babeeeeeeee, I’m sorryyyyyyyyy!” He whines, tackling you in a hug, and rubbing his face on your stomach. “You can have my credit card for today. Buy anything you want, okay? No limit.”
“Okay, deal.”
You shake his hand, and the deal is done. Mission accomplished.
“Why do I feel like I just got tricked?” Satoru pouts.
You gently pat his cheek, smiling. “Remember that you love me, honey.”
You can’t help but think that if cupids were real, your cupid must have worked overtime cause damn, what tough work it was to make you fall in love with his insufferable ass. 
“Ah! You just thought I’m insufferable, didn’t you?” Satoru asks, squinting his eyes.
You plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I think about you that way every day, my love.”
“You are so in love with me,” he giggles, snuggling closer to you. “Baby, baby, I’m cold.” He circles his arms around your waist again, landing a cute kiss on your shoulder. You can tell he’s smiling like a child, hugging you like a child, and as much as you want to go back to sleep, you can never find the strength to push him away when he’s like this.
“Fine, we can cuddle. But keep your mouth shut. I’m going to sleep.”
“Okay~”
“I’m serious.”
He pretends to zip up his mouth.
“Okay, good. Stay like that.”
Satoru nods. He holds onto his promise. He keeps his mouth shut.
Can’t say the same about his other body parts though. 
Because your husband is now grinding his hips against your behind, not too much, not too hard, just enough to make you notice that yup, he’s hard. His hands slip underneath your nightgown, skimming over your thighs before they press flat against your stomach. He’s so warm—he’s always warm—and every touch he paints on your skin is both comforting and provoking. 
“Satoru,” you warn him. 
He makes humming noises in response, basically telling you, “I’m keeping my mouth shut, just like you asked.” He’s bratty that way.
You sigh. You decide to let him be. It will take more energy to push him away anyway. Besides, even if he’s insatiable when it comes to sex, Satoru will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. You just have to ignore him.
Which is not an easy feat, unfortunately, because before long, his hands find their way to your breasts, cupping each one fully with his palms. He makes another noise, which you easily translate to “Good morning, girls~” (You know this because he said that almost every other morning). Giddy, Satoru finds himself giggling again, squeezing them from behind but in a way that is so not sexy. It’s like a kid trying out his new squeeze toy in Toys-R-Us. 
You roll your eyes. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm.” He starts playing with your nipples this time. Again, in a totally not sexy way. He’s tweaking, pinching, poking your buds inside with his point fingers, and watching them pop back out again. He’s tittering near your ear and you should really find him annoying but you can’t help but giggle too. He’s so dumb for even finding this entertaining.
“You are unbelievable,” you say, turning your head around just enough to kiss him. You hope for dear God, you don’t smell like your usual morning breath, but seeing how he doesn’t smell like one and still tastes like the whipped cream he had eaten (off your body) three hours ago, you figure you’ll be okay.
You don’t plan to take this further than a playful kiss but when you feel your husband groan against your mouth, pleased by the way you close your lips around his so perfectly, you know you’re losing your battle, and you don’t care. Who cares if you only had three hours of sleep and eight hours of stressful work ahead of you? Satoru tastes so sweet on your tongue. He always does. And you’re addicted to him.
With a little push, you have him lying back on the bed. He has one hand resting on your nape, holding your head firmly as he kisses you deeper. “Satoru,” you sigh against his mouth, his tongue rubbing against yours before he moves down to pepper kisses down your neck. He stays mute, but only because you told him to before (though if you knew it would lead to this, you wouldn’t have said so). Your husband may have the habit of spouting out stupid jokes one after another in his wake, but he always says the right thing during sex. The things you want to hear. The things you love to hear.
You can feel him smiling against your ear, your body shivering at the sensation of his breath caressing your skin. You can’t help but expect him to whisper something, something that you know will make you curl your toes in excitement. Last night he had you begging to turn every filthy word he spoke into action. Today, he just takes your earlobe between his lips, his breathing steady but heavy. The sound of his lips parting… The little mmm when he sucks on the sensitive spot… You're losing your mind.
His touch no longer feels light on your skin, drawing out hushed moans from your lips when he kneads your breasts, his thumb gliding against your nipple from over your gown. A soft chuckle brushes your ear. He knows how much you want to hear his voice. It doesn’t feel right to you, feels like something’s missing. But he won’t do that. Not until you start pleading.
But two can play at this game.
You sit down on his lap, the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder just enough to tease. The sight of the purple bruises he left on your cleavage the night before entices him. You’re so pretty. So pretty when you’re marked and bruised. 
With both hands on his chest, you nibble on your lower lip, rubbing your against his hardness. “I need you inside me.”
“Fuck,” he groans, losing his battle. He starts whining when he sees you giggling. “Baby, that’s not fair. You never said that to me before.” 
“Really?” You roll your hips, rubbing him at the right spot, the right pace. The way you move is obscene. The thin fabrics separating your body from his only add more excitement to your already burning skin. “And does Daddy like it?”
His face nearly explodes. “Oh my God, stop. You’re torturing me.” He sits up only to grab you by the waist before he throws you back to bed with one arm. 
You find yourself laughing when he blows against your stomach, treating you like a child. “Stop, that tickles!”
“I asked you to call me Daddy in the last three years we’ve been married and you always kicked me in the face, and now you’re saying it just like that?”
“What, did you want it to be special? Should I go make you a bath filled with roses, put Hatsune Miku on speakers—”
“Oh, that’s it, come here!”
You’re laughing until you can’t breathe, your leg pulled and your arm pinned behind your back. He tickles your sides, his smile playful and bright, filled with mirth. This joy you both have, you’ve never shared it with anyone else. And maybe he feels that too. Because when he flips you around, pressing your bodies together, Satoru’s gaze turns soft. He leans close, gathering your face in his hand. There’s no laughter, no giggle, no mischief in his eyes, only honesty. His voice sounds deep yet gentle when he speaks, “I love you.”
No matter how often he’s said it in the past, how much he’s said it yesterday, it always feels like it’s the first time you hear the words. And it’s rare for you to say it back to him, but he doesn’t mind. He understands that you often struggle to portray your feelings with words, too shy to say it under his overwhelming gaze, and if you ask him, it’s one of the reasons why he cherishes you so dearly. Because he knows whenever those words do come out of your mouth, you truly mean them.
Like now.
Cupping the back of his hand, you press your cheek further against his palm. “I love you more,” you whisper. “Every part of you.” And there’s so much more you wish you could say, but will your words ever be enough to describe them all? It wasn’t obvious to his eyes before as you were good at masking your emotions with sarcastic remarks and mean retorts, but reminiscing those old days you shared with him… It really made you realize just how much you’re in love with the man you’ve shared the last seven years with. You’ve grown so attached that even the thought of spending some days alone without him scares you to your bones. And with the way he’s gazing at you right now, ocean eyes filled with the same amount of passion and affection as they were on the day he confessed his feelings to you for the first time, it’s only right for you to be overwhelmed by your emotions.
Sometimes it scares me because I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.
Even the simplest thought of losing you, of not having you wake up beside me in the morning, is enough to haunt me for days.
Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me.
I love you.
Satoru.
“I just… I love you so much…” And you hate that it’s all you could say. 
But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Because Satoru is blushing, his eyes turning round, his lips parted but no words can be found. He just looks at you, astonished by the vulnerability you display on your face. The honesty. The purity of each gesture. How beautiful you are…
“Satoru?”
He pulls you into his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Hugging you so tightly, he barely gives you a chance to breathe and yet, you only wish for him to hold you tighter. You can’t tell just how much your words paint vibrant colors to his world—and bold red to his cheeks. “Are you planning to give me a heart attack?” He murmurs near your ear, a hint of shiver in his voice. “What the hell was that?” 
You can’t help but chuckle. Embarrassed Satoru is the best kind of Satoru. “Sorry.”
“You kidding me? Say it again.” He returns the space between you, but only for an inch or two because that’s all he can bear. He strokes your face, his heart beating hard enough that you can almost feel it on your skin. “I think this is the cutest you’ve ever been.” 
“I’m maxed out for today, though,” you say, wincing. “You’re gonna have to wait another ten years before I say that again.”
“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes,” he smiles, gliding his thumb across your cheekbone before he kisses you. “My sweet, sweet wife. I’m so happy I kissed you that day. Sorry your dog died, though.”
You chortle. “Honestly, you couldn’t have picked some other time?”
“You looked super cute when you cried, okay? Sue me.”
“You’re so ridiculous.” But you press his lips against his anyway, both of you smiling into the kiss.
“Babe.”
“Hmm?”
“Can I have your tits back in my mouth?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Can I… also bring my carrot back to my bunny’s mouth?”
“Aaaaand we’re done.” With a little shove to his chest, you send him back to the bed. 
“Wha—” He sputters, mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. “Babe—”
“I’m gonna go make some coffee.”
“No, wait!” He shuffles quickly to his knees, holding onto your wrist. “Honey, I was kidding!”
“Moment’s gone, Toru.”
“But I’m still haaaard,” he cries, and whines, pleading at you with his pretty eyes.  “Baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll behave so come back to me? Please?”
You already have one foot off the bed, tossing him a look over your shoulder. “You have hands.” Tying up your hair in a messy bun, you step down, smirking. “Use them.”
“Babeeeeee~”
You lean in to kiss him on the nose, patting his cheek when you say, “Take your time.” 
As you walk away, you hear him mumble sadly behind you, “But your carrot…”
Yeah, your husband is insufferable.
And that’s why you love him.
***
Next Chapter
Shoutout to @justasketch and @princess-okkotsu for being my first readers and for not throwing up from the excessive amount of cringe in this fic. Love you, babes ❤️
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Who Builds Theseus' Ship?
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This ties in to a greater discussion about Larian's changes to the game post-Full Release, and whether you consider those changes to be a good thing or a bad thing. Personally speaking, the quality-of-life and gameplay mechanics improvements were appreciated, while the direct changes to characters and especially characterization were not so much.
In such discussions, I often see people downplaying the actual changes to characterization that have been made thus far as "minor" things, but I often see one of the most glaring examples of a characterization change left out, because so many people aren't even aware of it ever happening:
Halsin.
For those who don't know, if you were romancing Halsin at the time of the original full release, and for almost four months afterward, if you took him with you to Act 3's orgy scene in Sharess's Caress, he would open up about a situation in his distant past. He would tell you about how he had briefly been "something between guest, prisoner, and consort" in a drow House, and been kept there for three years before escaping.
He stated that this was something that happened "a long time ago", when he was "a foolhardy young druid", which would mean it would likely have been between ages 100 and 245 — or at minimum 105 years ago, and at (likely) maximum 250 years ago. He closed the discussion with a line that really struck me, and that gave me such an appreciation for his character, and for the writers who had created it:
The passage of time has a strange way of polishing even the most arduous of memories into precious keepsakes.
As someone in their late-20s, with a number of traumatic events in my past, this resonated so much both with my experience of those events – once harrowing and haunting, now just simple happenings that do not affect me the way they once did – and as an inspirational message, that hurt would not necessarily linger forever.
Not only that, I really valued the insight it gave into Halsin's personality, further showing him to be someone who was deeply complex and meditative, always looking for meaning and something to take away or learn from any experience. It also served to showcase the likely reality of the relationship elves and druids both would have to the concepts of time and memory. (Another example of this is the experience of Shadowheart's father compared to her mother at the hands of the Sharrans.)
I started playing the game almost immediately upon its release in August, and was intrigued by Halsin from the start. He was someone who was kind and heartfelt, but also very settled in himself and with a simultaneously rigid and very flexible moral code. It was that complexity that drew me to him, and I appreciated the inclusion of a character distinct from the Origin companions, all at close to the lowest point of their lives.
It was to my surprise to find that this appreciation for his character and perspective on his Act 3 revelation was not unanimous. As it turned out, there was a vocal group of people claiming that this writing was problematic, and that Halsin clearly didn't even realize he was actually traumatized, and that Larian needed to fix it. Not everyone joining in with this crusade had even played the game.
And, ultimately, in a pattern they have continued to follow, Larian responded. They fixed it. At the end of November, as part of Patch 5, they uploaded an edited version of the scene with new dialogue, where the player could express this "reality" to Halsin, in one of the most gallingly patronizing statements I've ever seen.
Sounds traumatic. You may need to reflect on that.
(If someone said this to me after I had opened up to them about my trauma and my experience of it to them, we would not be maintaining a cordial relationship afterward.)
Halsin's new response to these dialogue options is a cringing, self-deprecating cascade of how the player is of course right, and he should have known better, and time could "prove to be a trickster on one's recollections" and that perhaps he had "lost perspective".
Quite frankly, it is a completely different character answering, and an almost directly opposing overall message about the role of time in healing, and the path forward when it comes to trauma. No more "one day these events will not hurt to recall the way they do now". In its stead: "only healing that looks a specific way and follows a specific path is acceptable - anything else and you are simply a poor fool lying to yourself."
The following quote is from a comment left on a video of Halsin's original dialogue in that scene, before the changes, and is just one example of how much that representation meant to more than just me to see:
That said, Halsin is trauma recovery goals for me absolutely. Being able to remember without actually being triggered? Being able to fully and freely engage HOW ID LIKE TO instead of being fettered by trauma responses? Goals. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there 100%, we don’t get elven lifetimes irl, but his level of healing brings me hope.
Ultimately, this post is not meant to argue that you should agree with me that one is better than the other. More so, I want to highlight that this existed — for many people, this was their experience of events and characters, and that is not so easily redacted. And I also want to just state, for the record, that Larian's way of approaching narrative and characterization changes to their full-release game has been incredibly frustrating. I did not agree, in August, to play an Early Access game with the inherent understanding that any potential narrative aspect might change at any time. I purchased a full-release game, and immersed myself in the story and the characters, to get to know them as the writers had originally presented.
And when Larian makes these changes based on fan feedback, they are explicitly making decisions about which fans matter, and specifically, which fans matter most. Rather than allowing everyone to experience the story they decided to tell, and draw from it what they take away, and let that spark discussion and engagement, they made the decision to defer to some fans over others, and prioritize their experience of the narrative — something that, no matter how well-intended, is always going to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
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canobugs · 4 months
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imagine like a true crime documentary on percy jackson like
"so this kid and his mom just disappeared one night, car crashed, blood on the scene no bodies"
"oh my god"
"his stepfather believed he was responsible for the whole thing. mind you this kid was TWELEVE"
"that sounds nuts honestly"
"right? so this kid and his mom go missing, step-dad blames him. kid turns up near New Jersey and a bus explodes."
"shut the fuck up? do they have photos of it?"
"yeah, so a tourist snapped his photo because he recognized him from the missing person's report. by the way, this kid's rap sheet is... it's insane. six schools six years. he was expelled the day of the disappearance."
"seriously?!"
"Yeah, I reached out to the school, but they had no further comment. so 5 shows up AGAIN, saint Louis Arch, another explosion. he FELL from the top of the arch."
"how the fuck did he survive that, what the hell?"
"I have no idea, but a family of three saw him jump from the top into the Mississippi."
"That’s insane."
"It gets more insane; so he shows up on a beach near Los Angeles, right after those major earthquakes? He and the two kids he was traveling with, I forgot to mention there are two other children in this story, but their identities have never been revealed."
"That is wild."
"Yeah! The Coast Guard drops them off because they were just... in the ocean."
"How on earth would three kids get there?"
"Some theories are they got swept out when the earthquake hit, they managed to cling to a buoy and wait for rescue."
"They were that far out?"
"Apperently!! So anyway, they get onto the beach. This dude in a trench coat starts blasting at them with a shotgun."
"Jesus Christ."
"And this kid somehow gets another gun, and they just have a shoot out on the beach."
"holy shit."
"Holy shit is right. The big guy manages to hit an exposed gas line from the earthquake, explodes like three cop cars, and by some miracle, no casualties."
"That is so lucky."
"YEAh! So it was determined that this dude orchestrated the whole thing! He was seen by waitresses in Denver outside of a diner, THREATENING all three kids."
"Really? fuck this guy that kid is a hero."
"He really is."
"So did they ever arrest him?"
"That’s what's so fucked up. They never found him."
"Are you effing kidding me?"
"Thatwhat I said when I read that like? Hello? big dude with a gun kidnapped 4 people. but that isn't the most confusing part of the story."
"Really?"
"So far, I haven't mentioned his mother and Step-father again. She turns up in their apartment."
"Just turns up?"
"She just turns up. but you know what? the step-father is reported missing."
"no fucking way dude"
"yes! and we still don't know what happened to him to this day."
【This podcast is sponsored by Monster Donut online delivery! watch to the end to get our discount code for 40% off of any monster donut purchase!】
honestly I would listen to it.
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 months
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Supersons +1 prompt answer
If you asked Danny, 12 year old half-ghost hero of Amity Park, how half-life was going, he'd tell you things were mixed.
On the one hand, he had just spent the last three or four months in family/scientist/'this house is a death trap waiting to happen' therapy with Jazz, and by some miracle, it worked. He wasn't sure if this was some kind of dream as his parents poured over years upon years of research, crossing out lines, rewriting equations, and reevaulating everything they thought they knew about ghosts.
Was the shudders family therapy worth not going over how they'd like to dissect him? he's still not sure. The horror.
Not to mention the attention. Danny was sure he was going to throw up if his parents drag him away for more bonding time, only for a ghost to attack and for him to run off to transform. What made it worse was when the Fentons came barrelling out, guns blazing, alternating between getting mad that he'd interrupted their family time, and asking him questions about "Your suspicious spook culture, if you even have one you dangerous delusional delinquent!"
At least they were trying, but Danny was very much comfortable not spilling the beans on the whole half-ghost situation, thank you very much.
And that's why, when Dad proposed to take him to Gotham to show off their latest invention, he jumped at the chance. The home city of the Batman, one of the greatest heroes known to man (except for Martian Manhunter and Superman of course) and Dad promised to take him to Gotham Observatory too. Not to mention how much he wanted to get away from Jazz's smug looks of superiority. Gotham here he comes!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian Wayne scowled as he scanned the crowed of scientists with more smarts than sense. Really, a flying toilet seat. For what deviant?
"Maybe they're for people who can fly." Kent piped up beside him. Father had let the two of them run off together, and his company was mildly more appealing than being alone with his thoughts.
"Why would Superman ever need to relieve himself mid-air. I do not believe you would appreciate your father's rear end being on display for all the world to see."
"True." Jon hummed. His voice lowered to a whisper. "You think indecent exposure is what your dad meant by "scoping out any potential future villains?"
Damian gave Jon a flat look. The sooner this convention ended, the better.
The crowded shifted, and the mass of visitors pushed toward a certain corner, where a man large enough to rival Superman's build stood upon a podium, with a boy their age off to the side.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the latest in FentonWorks' innovations, the Fenton Ghost Zone Radar, soon to revolutionise the study of ghosts!"
"I thought ghosts were a magic thing." Jon said. "You know, stuff Constantine and JLD deal with."
"They are."
"Mixing magic and science is like, like, oil and water. No way this guy's serious, is he?"
"His name is Jack Fenton. That's Daniel Fenton, his son." Damian pointed to the boy in question, looking like he'd seen this scene a hundred times before, but with that knowing glint that promised something deeper. "They're normally spotted alongside Jack's wife, Madeline. Widely regarded as quacks by the larger scientific community for chasing paper-thin theories about ghosts, they've nonetheless gained funding from the government. This is the first time they've left their base of operations in Amity Park for years."
"Woah, you know your stuff, Dami!"
Damian glared at the young Superboy in disguise. "I read the briefing files. Didn't you?"
Kent looked uncomfortable and looked away. "Uhh, maybe?"
"Typical."
"Well, if he's so crazy, then why'd your dad even let him in." Upon another scathing glare, Kent relented. "Oh right, the whole supervillain thing."
"Enough chatter. We'll zero in on the younger Fenton. I intend to squeeze him like a grape, and make Father proud."
"Dami maybe you should be a little nicer-" Only for Damian to march off without him.
Honestly, inane niceties were above someone of his status. Those things were Superboy's job, and if Daniel Fenton wouldn't crack, then Damian was itching to try a new torture technique.
@impyssadobsessions
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i-must-feel · 2 months
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‼️‼️SPOILERS FOR LISA FRANKENSTEIN AND POOR THINGS‼️‼️
It is so hilarious that Lisa Frankenstein and poor things came out at the same time bc on one hand we have
- movie thats really focused on advertising itself as feminist
- uses the moms body as basically an incubator and completely robs her of her singular act of agency right after roe v wade got overturned
- proceeds to sexualize said mothers body while also sexualizing her child’s immaturity plus gratuitous sex scenes showing how she’s “exploited”
- absolutely refuses to show the “female version of Frankenstein” with any scars or body hair she would absolutely be imperfect and wounded like it’s giving let me go shave my hairless legs
- written and directed by a man
- kinda weird and neurodivergent/mentally ill coded and is mean to the characters about it
And that’s the one winnning all the laurels while the movie with
- a female writer and director
- 1 sex scene which is very consensual and shows literally nothing
- multiple female characters all of which display agency and have wildly different personalities
- the characters are allowed to have trauma and be fucked up but also the first person killed is a lady calling the main character insane (bad) and threatening to lock her up because she doesn’t like her
- accurately shows SA without being gratuitous
- male lead doesn’t have any lines except reading poetry to the girl at the end, other than that there’s like three guys who talk
- real pretty visuals
- hilarious
- the male lead lacks a voice and very specific anatomy but it’s still emphasized how he’s still very much a man
- kills the guys who commits SA
- her sister stealing her crush doesn’t ruin their relationship, she’s still emphatic to her
- SO MUCH set design detail and it looks SO PRETTY
-camp
And THATS the one flying under the radar?!? My guy Lisa Frankenstein is what poor things wishes it was
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