#[ rly need to fix tags---

[socialprawn]

I guess I "draw" "images" with my "tablet"

[purpurussy]

everything Dan said about labels in BIG was so extremely real and personal to me and people really gloss over a lot of it sometimes I need to talk about it more about it when I'm not exhausted

[scissorcraft]

i really want to make isat friends…

[mattsundaes]

fine. dragging myself kicking and screaming to finally go work on breaking down my haikyuu masterlist into a better system.

[focafurineuvi]

no lie i think having a friend and/or partner who lived in an rv would fix me. bc why do i start hitting my limit and feeling trapped everywhere i go ._. i lost my mind in the city and i'm losing my mind again in a smaller town what do i need!!!

[narugen]

hoshimina sick fic UGHHHHHDDFFFGGGD

if hoshina is sick: mina really wants to cook him something. knows her mum used to make the best soups. can’t use the knife. tries anyway. after a grievous two hours she gets the shit chopped. spends another two hours waiting for the soup to simmer. considers just throwing it out and buying something for him instead. goes through with it anyway and apologizes that it’s not as good as what her mum used to make for her and hoshina is just stunned into silence bc what do u mean u Cooked. for me. You? cooked. (he’s broken) and then his fever rises (but hey! the soup works even if the carrots are chopped weirdly)

if mina is sick: hoshina doesn’t struggle as much as her in the kitchen LOL. easily gets soup AND other sick food ready and has a whole pharmacy open for her. stays by her side the whole time holding onto her hand waaagghhhhhhh replaces the towel on her forehead when it warms up . mina can’t recall the last time she got treated this kindly by someone else since joining the force and dedicating her time to improving so she can be captain

[volfoss]

Long time no faceup...

Under the cut cause my number 1 hobby with doll faceups is to talk 700 years about the process and well. I was talking a LOT this time around lol

I am so kind of notoriously bad at not finishing a doll. Like ridiculously so. In my defense with this doll- his face sculpt was SO ridiculously out of my comfort zone (I usually have more cartoonish dolls > realistic) and he was massive (and his body had a lot of mods that I in turn wanted to modify) (on top of my pain increasing a lot which caused me to not be able to work on projects often the last year or two). I would have kept his faceup if it wasn't scratched badly in certain places but, here's the before (blank, I am NOT showing how bad my previous faceup attempts are..it's bad) and then I'll get into processes and such!

[ID: A large ball jointed doll sitting up. His face is blank with no eyes or wig and his body has multiple sculpted blue sections on it. A cat is sniffing his shoulder. /End ID]

The mod work was easy (thankfully! Pin that says I ❤️ my dremel) but I am not done with that so I will be focusing on his face! I watched a lot of realistic faceup tutorials and came away with a few takeaways:

1. Watercolors and a skinny nail brush WILL be your best friend. Also water in general to fix the mistakes

2. Take your time <- you'd think this was obvious but I'm soooo bad at rushing a faceup ok. I'm so bad at slowing down

3. Pastel before watercolor makes it go on smoother (the vid recommended using white which worked well bc this boy is very pale lmao)

4. Be brave and get the worst bit done first so if you fuck it up it's no big deal

So, with that knowledge I began sealing the head (was doing him along w 2 other heads Ive been putting off) and that was when the trouble started. I use sponge on sealant (liquitex matte varnish. Works like a dream always and no respiratory gear or weather conditions needed) but it was applying glossy. I assumed it was too cold in my room and after a few layers of hoping that would fix it, it didn't! Thankfully it had happened to me before and I shook it up VERY aggressively (like 1-2 minutes of shaking) and it went on fine minus some exaggerated texture on the resin from the few bad layers. Now this is one of the issues w this method, the other is it can trap dust/hair or whatever in there (you can easily pick it out if you notice it before it dries tho). These are both pros for me, I like when the doll looks more textured skin wise (realistic) and if I'm getting a little too lost on what direction to take the head, the dust or hair can make moles, freckles, or even scars! Prefacing all of that with the sealant was kicking my ASS and I was fighting for my life, which wasn't giving me much hope when this was a faceup style greatly out of my comfort zone and skill set, so it was just really a bad start. Also important to note that I did like absolutely no mockups for this which I usually do. I did a very vague basic realistic faceup and that was it, which was not really setting myself up for success, one may say.

But, somehow, the first layer was ok! I put white pastel down under the eye, around the eyebrow placement and then after some mishaps with the watercolor on the brows, I went to my old tactic. Usually with brows, I lay a layer or two down of pastel (FAR lighter than I want the brows to be) to kind of carve a rough shape out because I'm so atrocious at getting them even (like to a comical level. The amount of times I've had to redo a full brow to match the other makes this be my default method bc I'm SO bad at them).

I did one layer of that, and then decided I would try again with the watercolor. I don't want him to have super obvious eyeliner or anything (statements I've never said before. I have dolls where the liner covers the entire eyelid, I love a big eyeliner) so I just did the top waterline in a dark brown watercolor on a skinny nail art brush. This went... Suspiciously well? To the point where I just decided hey, we're going in and doing the eyelashes on the same layer.

Eyelashes are another point I'm so bad at, to the point where of all of my dolls I've painted, I've done bottom eyelashes 2x like ever. 3 at most. I remembered the tips from the video (not too much water but not too much paint, steady your hand, take it slow, and not doing just straight lines (hard to do that because I default to that often lol)) and just dove in.

The first eye went so well that I just went right into the second one and it was so much less bad than I thought it would be. It's crazy that practice and research helps? After that dried, I mixed pink and peach acrylic paints together to paint the lower waterline, and after THAT dried, I covered the bottom lashes with the same white pastel. It muted it a lot but the main thing I've learned working with this sealant method is that it WILL take stuff off. So in theory, I hoped that it would take the white pastel off and not fade my very painstakingly painted eyelashes.

Somehow it did work (thank you makeup knowledge or something) and the first layer was done. It felt SO wrong to have a first layer with NO blush???? Like absolutely makes no sense to my brain but it was so relieving to be done with the worst parts (minus the brows. I was not looking forward to those).

[ID: A three quarter view of the doll head shown above. Instead of being blank, it has very faint blonde eyebrows and dark brown lower eyelashes. /End ID]

This is the time in which I admit that I was wrong that it was so bad to do a realistic faceup (which could easily change when I do the blushing, you do not want to see the 80s blush situation I had on the first faceup attempt), as having the brow bones so prominent made the painting so much easier. I was very mad about this as this is my first proper* attempt at this sort of faceup and it was going so well (* proper meaning I actually attempted to adapt my style to the sculpt instead of putting my usual methods to use here on a head of a different style). Honestly I just kind of locked into the brows, and since my brush is a nail brush, there's a little ball stylus (I think that's what it's called? Dotting tool may also be what it's called) so when I messed up, I got that wet and very gently cleaned it up, dabbing the excess water/paint with my finger. This was SO much less painful than using acrylic paint on brows (that is MISERABLE to remove if you fuck up with black acrylic. That does not budge ever) or using watercolor pencils (like with doing my own eyeliner, I do much better with a brush than pencil).

Genuinely never will go back to using a different material for doing the brow strokes, this was such a breeze. Even getting it even wasn't too bad, I just cleaned the brows up with that same technique until I got it close enough. While I was waiting for that to dry, I used the same dark brown (I have a very small watercolor palette and no clue how to blend it lol, so I just used the same color this whole faceup so far) and same brush to add some paint to the eye crease to add some more dimension to the face. While that was drying, it started to bother me that all the dust was just not covered up, because my brain is used to when I break the paint out, I'm nearly done with the faceup, so it should be covered and cleaner by now. Which honestly I'm glad I did! It looks a lot better with most of it covered, although I do still.plan on doing a scar from the left eyebrow up to the forehead as well as others on the forehead but those are 3d sculpt projects and not flat paint projects (I use Elmer's glue to build it up and then blush/paint over top) so it is not my problem now lol.

[ID: A front facing picture of the head above. The head has dark brown curved eyebrows, moles dotted at random around the face, and the eye crease is filled in with dark brown. /End ID]

As if this project wasn't driving me crazy with stress enough, when I powdered the brows, one of them just didn't get as powdered as the other and so when I applied the sealant, about half the brow came away with it! Absolutely devastating but it is just the nature of water colors and liquid sealant! The next layer now had to include a patch job on the brow, as well as blushing (or if I was a little smarter, one layer for the brow repair, seal again, and a layer for the blushing so I didn't mess it up again!). It was such an incredibly frustrating set back especially with how long it took me to do the brows initially.

At THIS point, I was so relieved I had done a mockup digitally (even if not super accurate to what I ended up going with) because thinking of doing the blushing the next layer did make me want to cry a little bit for a couple reasons (on top of the already immense frustrations that sealing the brows on the start of day 2 brought).

As I said earlier, very different head type than what I usually do (usually can just slap some pink on the cheeks, brown elsewhere etc), but the bigger issue was how pale he is. I find it a billion times easier to paint a yellowed doll or a doll with darker resin (I am SO excited to get to my Dong next (his resin is so pretty (and has been really fun to work on while I was in white boy shading hell)) than a white unyellowed doll. If you know color theory or like any makeup at all, paler skin makes things show up so much brighter, which is a pain in the ass when you're trying to make a doll not look like they have clown makeup on with the blush alone. And with how sculpted his face is, I had to place the blush just right to get it to look ok, as well as somehow get the shading to look clean and decent.

I used a combination of a brush directly against the pastel and shavings and slowly built up some flush to the cheeks and shading around the nose.

[ID: The same doll head as above, but with a more peach color to the lips and cheeks, with slight definition around the sides of the nose bridge. /End ID]

I added the tiniest bit more blushing (my favorite hobby is procrastinating sealing. #1 thing ever) and then felt really unsure if I was somewhat close to being done or not, so decided to try it on his body with random eyes and wig to see what else needed to be there, which confirmed a couple things!

[ID: The same head as before, now shown on a seated large ball jointed doll body. He has a long lilac center part straight wig on and dark eyes. There is a doll to the left and right of him./End ID]

The first thing was somehow ALL of the messy forehead was covered by the wig, which was such a relief in of itself. The second thing was all of the blushing looked really good and natural which was such a big relief honestly.

He really just looked like some guy which was very funny as I really um don't have any dolls in my collection that have a normal faceup (guy addicted to getting too silly with it voice: Well surely getting MORE goofy won't hurt! I think the closest to a normal guy would be Theo? Cordelia perhaps too but she's also so pink lmao) and look like just a guy that you could find at a gas station. This will probably not last as I wanted to turn the forehead marks into silvery scars (I feel we could get a little silly with it and have it be magical or something like that, provides the scars look ok lmao. Future me's problem). I definitely need to add some more shading under his eyes (under eye bags are PERFECT when his eye bags are actually sculpted, I'm not used to that on a sculpt lol), accents to the lips (MAY do lip lines. May just add more color. No one ever knows what my go to is with lips because I hate doing them), add highlights (and maybe use some pearl x powder on the eyelid area... I kind of want him to look MOSTLY natural but I cannot lie, the lure of men with eyeshadow. It's a slippery slope) and mess with his eyes a bit as he looks really good with that purple wig, so I'd like to use colors that coordinate with that if possible (same with the eyes probably?). All in all, this was a lot of work for a low energy day and I feel I'm entering the home stretch a bit!

Day three, and despite how horrendous I was feeling like the entire day, I locked in and got a lot done!

[ID: The same head as above, with silver scarring on the forehead and nose and slightly more pigment on the lips. /end ID]

In pictures the scars look a LOT like leeches to me but it's ok or something. I wanted to do silver as I felt it would be fun to do a more magical twist with the characters and having some funky colored scars would work with that! I started with a layer of light grey paint and Elmer's glue mixed together, then added layers of a silver paint with the glue until it was more pronounced from the resin, how a scar would be, and then shaded with watercolors (before then adding the blushing to make it look like actual scars instead of weird metal globs). Honestly I really liked how the eyebrow and nose ones came out but the forehead ones were more of a cover up job rather than where I wanted to place them, so they may get adjusted later.

Other than that, I started work on his eyes (and most of the day was laying in bed in pain so I didn't get a ton done sadly)! It's not very visible in photos but I also used a glittery powder (pearl ex) on the eyelids to add some sparkle.

All that was left is a bit of scar work, figuring out if I'm going to do lines on the lips (my worst debate always tbh, I feel they rarely look good with my faceup style and are often a pain in my ass), finish the eyes (admittedly this is just because I'm very slow with it as I don't really like working with the resin a ton), and gloss the areas that need it. There is definitely a chance I remove the forehead scarring (the great part about it all being glue is well. It removes easily) and do something different there that's a bit bigger and less small blobs but that is tomorrow's problem. Honestly really excited about the eyes, they look REALLY good from when I've tried them in!

I then proceeded to procrastinate for about a week maybe (time is odd for me rn) because I was so unsure about the forehead scarring but when I picked it back up, I did the finishing touches I planned on here and then wrapped his eyes up and he's done! 2 heads to go (sadly. I'm so scared doing them to be honest cause it's so much work always) but very happy with him!

[ID: The head shown previously, but on his body. His lips and scars are now glossy, he has eyes with a dark blue sclera and bright purple glittery iris in, and is wearing a long straight lavender wig. His body is wearing a teal and purple camo shirt that is tight fitting. The doll is sitting between two other dolls on a shelf. /End ID]

[4lbon]

.

[lunarcry]

mitiles prophecy is so much cuz 1) what the actual fuck 2) if rutile(..or mitile) dies then mithra loses his magic which means thats mithras fkng dead too

[citriosis]

i would be healed if given the chance to have a consistent good night's sleep and i think that's the most yaevinncore thing about me

[lottieratworld]

was gonna go to bed but i was feeling like taco bell. and taco bell won tonight...

[chanranghaeys]

👼 a regular korean citizen

request from my love, tara (@diamonddaze01)! “one waking up before the other, so they make up their side of the bed and can’t help but tuck in their sleeping lover as they do so” with jeonghan pls and thank u i miss my husband

pairing: idol!active duty!jeonghan x gn!reader word count: 817 genre: fluff, slice of life rating: pg tags: sleepy couple, morning musings, mainly an imagine of sorts, reader is tired bc of work, mentions of active korean military duty are NOT accurate and i do not claim their accuracy so please bear with my descriptions i rly did just make them up as i went warnings: none

a/n: thank u lovely tara! i indeed got out of the dreaded writing slump. and it’s my first time writing jeonghan so i hope i did him justice for u!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Jeonghan distinctly remembers going to sleep on his own with no one else on the bed. It was a pleasant surprise for him to see you on the other side when he rolled over.

If there was anything he enjoyed most about being an active member of the Korean military, it was that he was not subject to the grueling demands of an idol’s schedule. He could just be a regular Korean citizen—something he hasn’t had the luxury to experience in about a decade.

He couldn’t say the same for you, though, who also worked in the entertainment industry with hours just as long as his used to be. It was evident in the way you were sprawled over the bed, caring less about how you looked and how you ended up sleeping. Your neck was in such an awkward position compared to your body that Jeonghan was so sure you’d wake up with a stiff neck, and he would not allow that.

He knew you were as much of a light sleeper as he was. And as much as he wanted to caress your face or smooth down your hair, he shouldn’t for fear of waking you up from a much-deserved slumber.

But he wasn’t Yoon Jeonghan, part-time troublemaker, for nothing. And he missed you, as he did every day, so what other reason could there be to justify him not holding the love of his life as dearly as he wanted to?

You must’ve been absolutely drained because you didn’t even react at the gentlest of his touches. Jeonghan smiled and continued his soft strokes on your head. A forehead kiss did merit the slightest reaction from you—an automatic one where you seemed to involuntarily lean into the touch of his lips making contact on your skin.

He smirked. If only you could see it and how much it gave away how smug he felt to see you still craving for his touch. He checked the time from the standard military watch on his hand—5:37 am. It was time for him to get up.

He checked his phone, tapping into your work calendar to see your schedule. You still had a few hours of sleep left before your shoot scheduled for 1 pm. That was good, he thought, you need all the rest before another chaotic variety show shoot until whatever ungodly hour of the night.

The military discipline easily merged with Jeonghan’s idol discipline. It may not be the same for all fellow idols on active duty, but others have mentioned how similar both were. It was the implicit and discrete need for order and organization that both disciplines shared. It made sure everything was clean-cut and picture-perfect for idols on screen, and that everyone followed uniform standards with a code of conduct for active soldiers to learn.

Jeonghan was used to it. And such disciplines included even the simplest task of making the bed. He fluffed his pillow, he fixed the sheets he messed up on his side with a military tuck—and you didn’t even budge. You were out cold.

Jeonghan huffed a sigh, running his hands through his short-cropped hair—something he was still getting used to. “Aigoo-yaaaaa” was all he said with all the endearment in his heart.

He shuffled over to your side and, as gently as he could, fixed your sleeping position to avoid that impending stiff neck of yours. He also fixed the clothes already riding up in places because of how haphazardly you put them on. Thankfully, you remembered to remove your makeup before going to sleep this time. He was almost late for duty the last time he stayed to carefully remove it for you while you slept.

Carefully, he fluffed up your pillow and fixed the sheets as much as possible. He opened up the blanket and let it rest on your sleeping figure. He so badly wanted to engulf you in a warm embrace, but he loved tucking you in and seeing your relaxed expression just as much.

He left one final parting gift: a kiss on your cheek. Okay, maybe more than one gift—another kiss, a light brush of his lips on yours.

Jeonghan’s military enlistment allowed him to be a regular Korean citizen. That just gave him more opportunities to spend time with you and treat you the way a regular Korean citizen would. It was a welcome break for your relationship if it meant he could love you without all of the lights and cameras and judgmental eyes in the way.

Walking from the bedroom to the kitchen, he checked his phone once again and opened the calendar app. Peering at the time block for 7 pm later, he made sure his schedule and yours was a free time block. He couldn’t wait to share the wild stories about him and his fellow military men that would have to wait until tonight.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: still accepting requests for my little drabble request game! all you gotta do is shoot an ask <3

post post a/n: svt won TWO daesangs at mama 2024 today!! HUHU i am proud of my bois (∩˃o˂∩)♡

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XII: Too Far to Touch

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | read bee's diary

songs: i forgive no one by citizen, dark blue by one step closer, this is why by paramore, blackout by turnstile

chapter tags: awkward situations, weirdo behavior from bee and Eddie, per usual. swearing, adult language, etc | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

summary: really kind of a nothing burger chapter but only bc I plan to inflict pain shortly :p

a/n: lots of dialogue please lmk if u notice any mistakes bc sometimes my brain just GOES. also... I am so sorry for the long wait, i rly hope it was worth it! 

disclaimer: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. THIS WORK IS BEING REPOSTED TO MY NEW AO3! Feel free to check it out! Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. I am satiated by reblogs and comments, so please! Interact with my work! It motivates me to write more, and it helps to know someone out there is reading.

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

--

Even for a Monday, Benny’s is packed to the brim with hungry customers. The diner is decorated for Halloween, black and orange streamers lining the grimy windows, plastic jack o’lanterns flickering on the sills. Steve and Robin have already claimed their usual booth in the far corner, crammed into one side next to each other to leave you the space across from them. 

“Alright, spill!” Robin demands before your butt even sinks into the vinyl of the seat. She slides your iced coffee toward you, already fixed the way you like it. 

“Eager, are we? Relax, Rob, we’ll get to it.” You sip your drink as you skim over the menu, a pointless task when you order the same thing every time. 

“Oh, come on, Bee! You have to understand why this is such a big deal!” You glance from her to Steve, who’s been awfully quiet as he sips his steaming cup of coffee next to her. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, huge deal.” He nods, tone unconvincing. Robin rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to you, her face betraying her excitement.

“Can I at least get some sustenance first?” You bite back a laugh as Dory approaches to take your order. Dory’s an older woman, and she’s been at Benny’s for as long as you can remember. 

“Hi, darlin’, what can I get for ya?” She snaps her gum, pen poised to take your order. You ramble your own off quickly, and your friends follow suit. “Comin’ right up.”

“Okay, sustenance is being obtained, now it’s your turn. What went down yesterday?”

You can’t hold them off any longer. “Rob, what is your fixation with this? It was fine, normal! We grabbed coffee, went back to his apartment. Smoked a little, caught up, y’know? Nothing worth writing home about.” You pick at your cuticles, suddenly very aware of the way your friends are staring at you. “What do you want me to say? We had a dramatic argument that ended in make up sex? It was nowhere near that dramatic.” 

“Did you want to have sex with him?”

You choke on your sip of coffee. “What?”

Steve looks at you like his question is worthy of a real response. “Well, with the underlying tension between the two of you, it wouldn’t really be much of a surprise if you did feel compelled to sleep with him.”

“Steve. You sound deranged.” 

He shrugs. “Crazier things have been said.”

“Not by you, and never so casually! Whatever, I don't need your guys’ shit.” You shove another bite of your breakfast into your mouth, ending the conversation. 

Robin scoffs at your comment. “Hey, I didn’t say anything!”

–

“So, when’s the Halloween bash, Stevie?” You ask as the three of you enter the parking lot. “And is there a theme this year? I have to start collecting my costume.” 

Steve shakes his head, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “No theme, I originally wasn’t even gonna throw a party this year.” 

You gasp dramatically, feigning offence. “How dare you say such a thing! This party is the one normal thing I have left in my life.” You pout at your friend, earning a giggle from Robin.

“Which is exactly why I’m still throwing one. Well, that and because I’m holding out hope that Nancy will bring her pretty college friends.” 

“Never change, Steven.” Robin pats his shoulder, shaking her head. “Anyway, I already know what I’m gonna be.” She crosses her arms over her chest, eyeing between you and Steve. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what my costume is?”

“You’re just gonna say ‘It’s a surprise!’ anyway.” Steve accuses.

“It’s a sur– Oh. Shut up!”

You and Steve burst into laughter at Robin’s frustration. Finally, you’re able to speak again. “Well, I still have to figure my costume out. Something that’s relevant enough for people to get it, but still obscure enough that every single frat guy in the room won’t suddenly think he’s allowed to talk to me.” 

“You always have the best costumes, I’m sure you'll think of something.” Robin climbs into Steve’s passenger seat, and you wave as they pull away before getting into your own car. You crank your music, a habit your mother has tried getting you to break since you woke her up with your music coming home at 3am, though you’ve refused to budge. Your car time is your personal time, completely free of judgment from others. Today, you’ve chosen to shuffle your angsty playlist, setting your volume to max as the opening riffs to Citizen floods through the speakers. It’s a short drive, made shorter when you cut through the side streets that are usually less congested during a work day, but you don’t really feel like going back home just yet. Chris is not the person you feel like talking to after yesterday, expecting him to be insufferable with his “told you so”s after telling him about how harmless Eddie is. Maybe you’ll lie just to watch him squirm, you haven’t decided yet. 

Instead, you take yourself to the record store, a treat you haven’t let yourself have in a long enough time. You used to come with Eddie every Friday in high school to check out the new releases and avoid your studies together, but since you’d stopped talking the place has been a sore spot for you. 

The bell chimes as you step inside, where nothing has changed in the past six years except maybe the records on display. Today, the walls are lined with releases from the past few years, including a variant of Paramore’s This Is Why that you don’t have yet. Tim, the owner of the shop, waves at you from where he sits behind the counter, fiddling with his relic of an acoustic guitar. “Mornin’, Bee! Been awhile.” He smiles at you, revealing his yellowed teeth and pink gums.

“Morning, Timmy. Yeah, I know, it’s been way too long. Got anything good in lately?” 

Tim taps his chin with his wrinkly finger before making an “Aha!” sound. “Just got a couple of these in, you heard of ‘em?” He pulls out a record you recognize, but have yet to listen to because you couldn’t find a physical copy, called All You Embrace by a band called One Step Closer. 

“No way, where did you get these?” You hold the record, admiring the packaging, reading the tracklist. 

“They played a show at the Hideout a couple months ago, they sold me a few at a bulk price so I could sell them here. Nice dudes.” Tim nods thoughtfully.

“That’s sick. How much?”

“For you, darlin, consider it a thanks for visiting an old man.”

“Tim, you don’t have–”

He holds his finger up to stop you. “Here, if you wanna do something for me in return, get Munson to buy something or get him outta here, he’s been here since we opened.” He nods his head to the far corner of the store, where you only just now see Eddie picking through the metal records, a massive pair of headphones on his head. 

“Oh, Eddie and I aren’t…” You can’t exactly say you’re not friends anymore, but Tim probably doesn’t care.

Or, you think doesn’t until he’s leaning over the counter. “Don’t tell me you two broke up. I guess that would explain why you’re never in here anymore, I just thought you’d been in New York this whole time. Eddie hasn’t been in much either.”

“And yet, somehow, we’re both here today.” You mumble, mostly to yourself, but Tim hears you.

“Love works in funny ways sometimes.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the geezer. “Tim, Eddie and I were never a couple. You know that, right?”

“Sure, not a couple in the traditional sense, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t once a duo to be messed with! I used to love entertaining you two with my guitars, you were the only ones that seemed to care about what I had to say.”

It softens you, the kindness in this old man’s voice. Adults were never fans of you and Eddie, and it warms your heart to know there was one looking forward to seeing you. “Alright, because you’ve been so nice to me today, I’ll see that Munson buys something.” You leave the record with Tim and approach the corner Eddie is still in, flipping through the Used section as if on the hunt for a specific, rare record that probably doesn’t exist.

You tap his shoulder gently, then with more vigor when he doesn’t turn around. Finally, growing frustrated, you snatch one of the speakers from his ear. “Munson!”

He jumps, spinning himself around as if to swing at you, but immediately lowers his guard when he sees your face. “Jesus Christ, Bee, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Glad I could finally garner your attention. Tim sent me to make you leave. He’s tired of seeing your mug when he looks up from the register.” You press your lips into a thin line to keep from laughing.

Eddie’s wearing a tattered Pixies shirt, and his hair is tied back in a low ponytail. In his hands, he’s holding Chappell Roan’s record along with one you don’t recognize. “Aw, you liked the show that much, huh?” You ask, sliding the album from his grip. “There are a few on here I don’t think she played. You’ll love Naked in Manhattan.” 

Eddie snatches the record back from you. “Don’t judge, I’m a man of vast taste.”

“Who’s judging? I was sent over here by the boss man, okay? I don't care what you spend your money on.” Eddie sends a wave to Tim, who chuckles in response. “What’re you getting, anything?” 

“Tim’s got a record up there for me, I wasn’t planning on getting anything but he got a couple from a band in Wilkes-Barre that I really like. And he has a This Is Why variant I don’t have yet.” 

“Red one?”

You pause. “Yeah, how’d you know?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Saw it when I walked in, debated on picking it up for you but I wasn’t sure if you had it already.”

“Well, you still can pick it up for me, now that you know!” You give him a wide smile, and he snorts. 

“Not a chance.”

You shrug. “Worth a shot. Anyway, quit loitering, Tim’s gonna threaten to ban you again.”

Eddie follows you to the front, placing his records on the counter for Tim to scan. “Long time, Munson. How’s the world treating you?”

You could swear he glances at you before answering, “Better, lately, believe it or not. How’re you doin’, Timmy?”

“Same old. Anything else for you guys today?”

“Yeah, actually, could I get that–” Eddie cuts you off, “I’ll take the red This Is Why variant, please.”

“What if that's what the lady wanted?” Tim scolds him, and you giggle.

“Which is why I’m getting it for her, Timothy.” Eddie crosses his arms as if offended by the assumption. 

“Ah, right, the rare record for your Not-Girlfriend. Bet you they’re her favorite, too.” Tim winks at you. “You young people don’t make any sense to me.” He plucks the record off the top shelf and hands it to you. Eddie pays for it, along with his own, and Tim slides it to you with your other album. “Have a good day, kids.” 

“You too, Tim! Thanks again!” You exclaim as you and Eddie leave the store, Eddie holding the door open for you. 

“You didn’t have to do that, y’know.” You say once you’ve exited. “I have my own money.”

“Pft, whatever. Don’t pretend you’re not pumped that you didn’t spend your own money on it.”

“While I can’t exactly argue, I still don’t see why you did that.”

“Does everything have to have a reason with you?” You can sense you’re irritating him.

“Yes, obviously.”

“What a miserable way to live. Anyway, where to?”

“Where to what?” You open your passenger door, placing the records on your seat.

“Well, you dragged me out of there. I was planning on hanging out for at least another hour, so now you have an hour of my time.”

“Oh, yippee!” You quip, earning the smallest smile from Eddie. “I dunno, I was just gonna go home and play these.”

“I have a better idea.” Eddie has a mischievous look on his face, like he’s got a secret you’re not allowed to know yet.

“Do tell?”

“Nah, it’s better if it’s a surprise. C’mon. I’ll drive.” You are left with no choice but to abandon your car in the lot and follow Eddie to his van. 

–

Eddie drives like he’s not afraid to die. In the ten minutes you’ve been on the road, you’ve counted ten different car horns, and caught several people shouting out their windows, middle fingers angrily shaking in the air. Through it all, Eddie is screaming along to his music, headbanging as his lead foot rests on the gas pedal.

“You are gonna get us killed!” You shriek at some point, your knuckles turning white as you grip the overhead handle.

“Oh, relax! This is nothing, you should see me on the highway.” You can only assume his glove compartment is overstuffed with unpaid speeding tickets. 

“Where are we even going?” You don’t recognize the route he’s taking, twisting and turning down woodsy back roads that are growing scarily narrow as they progress.

“I told you, it’s a surprise!” Eddie cuts the wheel, taking a sharp right back onto a main road, earning a long, angry honk from the SUV behind him. “Besides, if you knew where we were going, you wouldn’t have come.”

“That is so not reassuring.” You grumble, finally looking at him. His cheeks are red, probably because even though it’s forty degrees he’s driving with the window open as he puffs on a cigarette. He has one hand on the wheel, the other out the window as he whips down the street, hair flying in every direction with the wind. “What are you staring at?” His question makes you realize you had, in fact, been staring at him.

“What? Nothing. I’m… nothing.” Real smooth.

“Right. Okay, we’re here!” He turns into a parking lot on an otherwise deserted street, empty save for an old, white van that’s likely seen better days, parked in front of a small, shed-like building with a sign that reads “Vintage” in red, faded paint. “I need some stuff for Steve’s party.”

Oh, come on. “You’re going to that?”

“‘Course I am, how else am I gonna pay rent if not with the money from the rich kids that attend his parties? C’mon. Maybe we can find you something for your costume.” Before you can move, Eddie shoves his van door open and runs around to your side, yanking the door open for you. It gives you pause, but you choose to ignore the way your stomach flips at the gesture. Eddie leads the way inside, where the bell rings as he opens the door. From the counter, an old lady with hair so silver it’s almost blue, looks up from her crossword to greet you.

“Hello, darlings! Anything I can help you find?”

“Not just yet, Murial. Thank you!” Eddie speaks to the woman like an old friend, and you cock your eyebrow at him. “What? Where did you think I got all my classic band shirts from?”

“In all honesty, I don’t think about you that deeply.” You thought he’d gotten them on eBay, but you’re not about to tell him that. 

“Ouch, that one stung.” He chuckles, and you groan at him. “Okay, let me give you the tour. Over here, we have the dusty old knick knacks that are for sure haunted.” Eddie gestures to the metal shelves crowded with porcelain and plaster figurines, some cute while others frighten you to your core. A particular piece catches your eye; a figure of a pierrot clown, painted to look anguished, pouting despite its playful makeup. You pick the doll up, turning it in your hands until you find the price tag, a tiny yellow sticker that reads $5. You decide to carry it with you, just in case.

“Oh, and I’m the freak?” Eddie nods to the clown. “That thing is gonna bring demons into your apartment.”

“Not if I’m nice to him!” The paint on the figure is chipping in places, but you think it adds character. “His name will be Gustav.” You decide firmly, holding him up to Eddie’s face. “Say hello.”

“Will you get it out of my face if I do?” You nod. “Okay, fine. Hello, Gustav.” He says, disdained. “Now, get that thing away from me.” 

Sighing, you lower your clown statue, and Eddie rolls his eyes at you. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, and you can’t decide if it’s awkward or not. Eddie’s eyes scan over the shelves of dusty knick knacks and candles, but yours are stuck on the way his hands keep clenching into fists and back again. “You alright?” You ask as his eyes seem to fixate on a wooden sign with some witty saying on it. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. You okay?” He moves his stare onto you, causing your chest to tighten. 

“Y- yeah, I’m good. Gonna go look at the clothes.” You turn on your heel, practically galloping away from him. You’re about half a yard away when you hear his heavy boots following you. 

–

“Okay, what about this?” You step out of the dressing room, which is really just a closet with a paper sign taped to it. You’re wearing an obnoxiously bright pair of hot pants, and a glittery tank top.

“No. You look like my mom in high school.” Eddie shakes his head, causing stray curls to fall into his face. You catch yourself staring before it’s been too long.

“Your mom was a beautiful woman, I’m flattered. Okay, fine. I have one more, then it’s back to the drawing board.” You close the door again, and examine your final costume choice; a low cut, sage green dress with dramatic bell sleeves and a flowy skirt. You also somehow managed to find a corset that matches perfectly, a shade of light brown that reminds you of your morning coffee. You step into the dress, careful not to trip on the fabric as you hike it over your thighs, hips, and chest. You slide your arms into the sleeves and feel the soft, light fabric engulf you. Immediately, you love it. In the mirror, the garment hugs your body perfectly, clinging to your curves and fanning out around your feet. You’d wear this every day, if it were practical. “Hey, Ed? Can I get some help?” He doesn’t answer. “Eddie?”

“Sorry, yeah. Can I open the door?”

“Yeah, I’m decent.” Your back is still to the door, but you catch his eye in the mirror as the door opens, and watch as his eyes scan from your face and down your figure, then quickly back up to meet your eyes. “Whoa.”

You scoff. “Can you zip me up?” Silence. “Hello? Earth to Munson?”

“Huh?”

You turn to face him, having to look up at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine, why?”

“You’re being weird.”

“Am I?” 

“Oh my god. Please just zip me.”

“Okay, sure.” You turn back around. It feels like forever, his calloused fingertips brushing your spine as he slowly pulls the metal zipper up your back. “Tada.” His voice cracks, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat. You turn back to face him, and he won't look at you. 

“How do I look?” You challenge, stepping back to give him a better view. 

He looks at the top of your head when he answers, “Great.” with no enthusiasm.

“You didn’t even look.” You huff, crossing your arms. Where did his attitude come from? 

Eddie takes the quickest look at the dress and nods curtly. “There, I looked. Great, like I said.”

You’re fed up. “Why are you being so fucking weird all of a sudden?”

“I’m not being weird! Bee. Really. The dress looks great.” Before you can argue, he steam rolls you. “You should get it. We should get going, though. I have a shift.”

You don’t argue, just nod as he leaves the dressing room, the door clicking behind him as it closes, leaving you confused and close to tears in a pretty dress. 

–

[airborneice]

can we talk about how @the-hilda-librarians-wife is just out here writing poetry in the tags like it’s no big deal

@sketchbookweek Day 3 - Sun & Moon / Family

you know I had to bring up my sketchbook kid Mattie for this one. in my mind this is like…impromptu midnight storytime bc someone woke up the entire household and now she’s almost settled no one wants to get up or go back to bed

(Kaisa has become a little more comfortable with openly doing magic by this point, partly because of reconnecting with Tildy in season 2 and partly because no matter how shoddy her spells come out, they never fail to entertain her kids, especially her youngest. Kaisa does the best stories in this house. no child can resist magic floating pictures)

[tojivu]

# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.

✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy

✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.

✰ — word count ~3k LOL

nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.

even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.

you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.

you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.

you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.

'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'

one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.

'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.

she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.

the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.

you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.

it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.

it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.

just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.

you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.

──────

"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.

gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.

you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.

"what is it, mr. gojo?"

he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?

"i woke up late today."

"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"

"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."

gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.

"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."

you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.

"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."

you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.

"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."

you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.

you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.

no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.

"nothing about this is funny."

you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."

"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.

you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.

you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.

"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.

you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.

you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.

at least you were self-aware.

your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.

you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.

just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."

you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."

satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."

that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.

nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.

you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.

so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."

you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.

"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."

gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.

──────

the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.

you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.

you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"

you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."

it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.

"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."

he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.

──────

gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.

you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.

"miss y/n, you should try some."

you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.

"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."

"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."

you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."

you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.

you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.

he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.

you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.

"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.

gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.

he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.

"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."

you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.

"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.

he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."

his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.

before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.

satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.

you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.

you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.

a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.

it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.

you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.

gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.

it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?

you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.

gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.

there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.

he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"

of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.

"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."

gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."

"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.

"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.

you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now���he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."

"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."

"it's still office hours. it's only polite."

gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.

"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."

you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.

"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.

"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."

you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.

"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."

what was the harm in discovering more?

230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum

[en-djinn]

(tags from @cosmic-navel-gazin)

OK!!!!!!! GEEZ!!!!!!!! i woke up still kinda drunk and also i honestly wanted to wait til id finished infinity war (1992) and warlock and the infinity watch before i said Too much shit cz its all sort of important to it bt i guess i can do a little bit of my thoughts so far cz it is. a little all consuming in my mind rn.

this ended up being 1.5k-ish words roughly jsyk !

ok so its literally just. comic panels that destroy my mind.

youre hurting me brother. stop saying that shit.

second of all thanos totally ignoring what adam said to talk abt his own shit is so fucking funny to me. of course hes That Guy. (these are from infinity war 1992 btw)

anyway one of the reasons i like adam so much is just how miserable he is at all times. i rly love the newer versions of him tht appear younger and more naive/childlike (like a LOT. LOVE!) but og adam being just so fed up with existing is also like. i get it. i get it man. ive been there, im STILL there.

^ I HAVE SOOOOOOOOO MUCH TO SAY ABT THIS BTW COZ THE FRAMING OF THAT SHIT W JESUS BEING SADOMASOCHISTIC TOO IS JUST LIKE. EXPLOSIONS.GIF. ALSO ETERNITY IS FUCKING RIGHT! HES SO RIGHT!

anyway lastly rn is this page. its funny to me coz of the literal >:( face bt also it is. so sad. theres so much here tht i honestly dont remember what everything is exactly from bt its all frm between infinity gauntlet to infinity watch+infinity war. if anyone wants to know one specifically i can go hunt it down again.

the POINT of me posting all these is just how obvious it is what his problem is. hes depressed bro. but hes so weird cz its entirely like self inflicted and he just doesnt seem to realise it, or at least doesnt want to actually See the problem for what it is and fix it. coz thats not the part of him that does that. he literally expelled the part of him that cares abt itself. adam self appointed himself the duty of 'saving the universe' and does that to the point of self destruction over and over coz he has guilt abt it being caused by himself (magus) in the first place. hes 100% selfless with none of the selfishness needed to take care of himself. he has no fucking friends. gamora and pip are There sure bt noones sitting him down to like talk abt what hes feeling or anything. noones telling him to take care of himself. he spirals into apathy and depression and paranoia. his fight with magus IS sadomasochistic. he literally cant STOP self flagellating. he doesnt know what to do with himself when hes not doing that. u could be like 'hey man come on theres plenty of other heroes' and hed still end up putting himself back on that fucking cross, cz after that page i posted he literally does that lmfao.

now the stuff frm starlin's magus saga i really loved were these pages.

^ THE FIRST ONE IS MY FAV PAGE IN THE ENTIRETY OF THE WARLOCK COMICS BTW SOOOOO FUCKING GOOD. the mouth eating the cocoon is smth ive used in some of my designs fr magus before coz im in LOVE w the symbolism of it. caterpillars cocoon and turn into moths by sort of turning themselves into soup. using the same process thts used for digesting food, right. so its eating itself to become something else. thats magus consuming and overtaking warlock. also they keep using the lips in some other stuff when they get abstract w him and its just a rly unique weird looking thing to have there i love it.

anyway i posted those cz of the purpose vs death thing. this interests me. i have always found the classical depictions of good and evil to be Strange coz theyre just so reductive of concepts that honestly dont even actually exist? imo at least. this is all opinion stuff frm here obviously and while im interested in philosophy im not super well read on it, im just some guy in its bedroom saying words in an order. so take it with a grain of salt. however i too am prone to long inner monologues about existence so adam warlock is NOT special. good and evil dont exist. to me. theyre a mishmash of nuanced topics tht are literally just 'idk man it depends' and it all depends on a LOT of factors and then theres personal reasoning and personal perceptions of the world and ofc its easy to look at people irl and be like 'this guy is just evil' and sometimes it is very hard to argue with that bt i think pinning that sort of thing on just 'theyre evil' is genuinely defeating the point. which is that literally anyone can do any of that shit, good or bad. theres nothing inherent in anyone that is good or evil. i love adam because hes such a literal depiction of that idea, hes not good and hes not evil. hes perfectly neutral, who then CHOOSES to do good because he believes that its right and that its his duty, theres no outside force or inner quality forcing him to be that way. (keep in mind for the next part that i havent properly seen the goddess yet. ill be coming back to this after ive finished those comics probably) to me, the goddess and magus are parts of him that he subconsciously chose to partition based on his own perception of good and evil. especially since in his own words 'good and evil do not exist, there is only purpose or death'.

now heres where i get to the point: the magus and the goddess have ambitions and a will to live and goals because they have purpose. their 'goodness' or 'evilness' is totally irrelevant. warlock excised all ambition from himself. i think thats the part he has issues with himself for, because hes seen what his ambition can do in the future. THATS the problem, to him. if hes happy with what he has and only works towards his duty then he'll never do anything 'evil'. so yes. warlock has no will to live, no dreams, nothing to live for, because he forcibly removed the parts of him that did so that he could be a better messiah.

for magus specifically, and god this fucks me up a little honestly bt i just rly love magus im not even gonna lie to u gang i might be a little kinnie about it. thats a whole other topic wrt gender and having pride in being socially unacceptable or a 'monster' tht is for another post if anyone does want to hear. the point is just i have thought abt this A Lot.

(^all from infinity war)

magus' goal is the right to exist. it WAS adam, it FELT how miserable they were and wants out. its the selfish part of adam that he needs to stop himself from self flagellating, to take care of himself a little more. i dont have a screenshot bt thats what i rly loved abt the gotg game too, that warlock straight up says he misses magus. how r u supposed to function without the selfish part of urself. this is why i dont like the straightforward idea of sins or 'evils' because u need ALL of those things. being 100% selfless is not good, being 100% selfish is not good. etc. to borrow the christian sins, u need pride in urself for self esteem, u need sloth to recuperate and calm urself, u need lust literally because humans are animals and theres this thing called having fun, wrath can be a form of kindness on behalf of others and urself. etc etc. u get my point here. there is literally nothing wrong with any of these bad traits tht are seen as negative or unwelcome in society. adam just sees them as undesirable and treats magus accordingly, and then u can start having the nature vs nurture conversation and what they did with magus in gotg v5 and thats all a little beyond the scope of this post rn.

so yeah. warlock wants to kill himself and magus has hopes and dreams and a will to live and wants the right to exist. obviously hes still a villain and we love that for it, violence is always the answer etc etc, bt i think its a fun way to think abt it all.