#Budget-Friendly Watches

[techdriveplay]

Top 5 Men's Watches: Timeless Timepieces

In men’s fashion, a watch does more than just tell time; it speaks volumes about the wearer’s style, status, and attention to detail. With the vast array of choices available, from luxury timepieces that exude elegance to tech-savvy smartwatches that keep you connected, finding the perfect watch can be a daunting task. That’s where our guide to the Top 5 Men’s Watches comes in handy. Whether…

[mcmactictac]

yes the PJO show still has some significant changes compared to the book (the whole Medusa thing) but the understanding of the characters is spot fucking on. Like the percabeth dynamic? I’m obsessed. The mf consensus song? Hilarious. Every little thing they change they give a new thing that feels so real and in character that I just appreciate we get to see it. It’s like we get to see things that we haven’t before and they’re things that are absolutely plausible and in character for the trio.

[marklikely]

its really nice being a horror fan tbh if only because most of the complaints i see online about Movies These Days just don't really apply to the movies i watch at all

[oreolesbian]

another year, another slew of wlw show cancellations 🙃

[aarajungle]

Village Resort

Escape to serene bliss at AARA Jungle Resort's Village Resort. Uncover tranquility where traditional charm meets modern luxury in this idyllic getaway.

[leafnincosplay]

Paper mache Poketch

Paper mache is such a great medium to make lightweight accessories. Here's how I made my Poketch so you can make one too or adapt the technique to make your own cosplay watch! #cosplay #tutorial #papermache

I’ve wanted a Poketch since Pokemon Diamond & Pearl first came out for my Dawn cosplay. I made several attempts with it, but honestly why overcomplicate things? Sometimes the simplest materials work the best! So I turned to one of my favorite arts and crafts methods: paper mache. Finished Poketch Paper mache is a great method to make props lightweight and con safe, and most of the materials I…

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[mypoisonedvine]

virgin neil lewis with 11: “fuck, do that again... please."

your work is so fucking good i LOVE it

thank you so much love!! i got so many amazing neil requests but I love the idea of virgin neil c: kinda made him an incel lowkey...

warnings: noncon sexual content (18+ only!!), perv!neil, grinding, neil being a creepy nice guy with 0 stamina (aka my exact type)

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

Neil could be a little bit... well... touchy.

You mostly didn't mind it. It was just his way of being friendly and he usually made you laugh with the way he would randomly hug you from behind or tickle you or playfight you just to hold you down.

Every once in a while it would get weird, but not too weird; just his dorky, goofy sense of humor taking a jokingly-horny turn.

Well, you thought he was joking.

Like, for example, today—when you were on the couch arguing over what to watch (a common occurrence).

“No way,” he shook his head, “it’s shlock!”

“Just because it had a big budget doesn’t mean it’s shlock!” you defended.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged with a smirk.  “Just read the box!”

He snatched the DVD case out of your hands, flipping it to read the back as you tried to pull it away from him.

“In a world,” he began reading the synopsis in a deep, dramatic voice.  “See?  No good movie starts its premise with in a world—”

“Shut up!” you whined.  “Reading the back is cheating!  Gimme it!”

You leaned over him, trying to grab it, but his arms were longer; he held it up high and tilted his head back to keep reading: “In a world devastated by nuclear war—”

“You’d like it if you gave it a chance!” you insisted.  You couldn’t reach as high as him from where you were sitting, so you thoughtlessly hopped into his lap and lifted yourself up to get closer.  He yanked it away again, leaning to the side and watching you as you laughed and groaned and tried to get it away from him.  “You just need to see it, then you’d like it!”

Three things happened at once, right then: you moved to try to get the DVD from him, twisting yourself in his lap; his other hand grabbed suddenly and tightly onto your hip; and he stopped laughing.

You didn’t really notice it at first, just happy you managed to snatch the case from him.  You only really realized something was different when you looked at him with a smug grin which fell quickly.  “Neil?”

His lip was between his teeth, and his face was a little flushed.

“Neil, what’s wrong?” you wondered, relaxing on top of him, which only made you put more pressure against his— oh.

“Fuck,” he breathed, holding your hips with both hands now, “do that again… please.”

“What the fuck?!” you snapped.  “Are you— is that—?”

You tried to get off of him, but he was holding you down.  Your face flushed as you suddenly felt self-conscious about everything you’d done— about wearing these tiny lounge shorts, about getting in his lap, about coming over to see him at all.  He rocked his hips slightly under you, and you whimpered as you understood, without a doubt, that he was rubbing his erection right against you through his pants.  You could feel it throbbing, even.  You weren’t sure what was worse: the possibility that he got that hard that fast because you were in his lap, or that he’d been hard before when you two were just hanging out.

“Let me go, Neil,” you demanded, but your voice was weak and shaking; he ignored you, looking down at you in his lap as he moved you on top of him.  “Neil, stop—”

“Fuck,” he sighed, “you’re warm.”

He did it again, again; you felt sick and strange and sort of numb as he held you tighter, groaning under his breath.  “This isn’t funny,” you whined, “this is—what the fuck, dude—”

“Sorry,” he panted, moving you faster over him, and you grimaced as you were forced to feel the details of his cock against your pussy.  It was disturbing, really, how well you could feel it with these clothes in the way: you could feel the ridge of his head, the shape and thickness of his shaft…

You swallowed, blinking quickly, not really believing that this was happening—this couldn’t be happening, right?  Not to you, not with Neil, it just didn’t make sense.  “Stop,” you begged again, quieter yet more desperate than ever.

“I will, I will,” he promised, “I’m so close— I’m almost done, then I’ll stop— fuck!”

He tossed his head back, and you felt it flexing.  You watched in shock, confusion, and disgust as a small stain began to form on his shorts, hot come soaking through the fabric as his chest rose and fell quickly while he caught his breath.

You were speechless, and confused, and you had pins and needles all over as you tried to convince yourself that didn’t just happen— that your ‘friend’ hadn’t just used you to come, holding you down and rubbing you against him.  You’d felt so helpless and dirty… so why was there a wet patch in your own shorts, not from coming but from unsatisfied arousal?

His grip relaxed on your hips, and you could get up, but you were still frozen.  If you moved now, you might have to acknowledge that this was real. 

“Okay,” he smiled, still breathing a bit heavy, eyes still shut with relief, “we can watch your movie now.”

[sreegs]

I can't find the post I made about it before but I wanna reiterate, if you want to learn how to cook but don't have anyone to learn from (which is best, imo, but not everyone has that), watch Good Eats. There's like over 16 seasons and most of it holds up in terms of food advice. However, there were some corrections over the years (addressed in Good Eats: Reloaded), and some of the humor is kinda dated and cringey. Alton Brown knows his shit, though.

There's a number of reasons why it's good:

Even if the episode is about something you might never make, cooking is about applying a series of techniques to different foods. Many of those techniques are adaptable to other foods.

He recommends budget-friendly options even if he advises you to spend money on something. Although some of his homemade gadgets or hacks are kinda silly, some of them are worth trying.

Good Eats focuses on the science of food so he doesn't just tell you how, he tells you why. If you're like me, you have to know why or else you won't be convinced.

If you have Max or Food Network you can already watch all the episodes streaming. If you don't, you can find each season pretty readily online in various places streaming and uh downloadable. I don't want to call out where but if you know you know, and if you don't I suggest you read this.

[muddyorbsblr]

remote consults behind enemy lines [kinktober 2023: formal wear…and role play(?)]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! 'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: 2020, during the filming of Loki Season 1

Summary: You casually reveal that you consulted on costume design for another supersuit, leading to an unexpected reaction from your boyfriend

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, don't u dare even try me); kinda public sex; unprotected p in v; role play; clothed sex; language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; Reader's wearing a dress; Tom's wearing Loki's coronation armor; mango namedrop (i couldn't resist 🤣)

This was absolute torture in the most devilishly delicious way. Sitting in front of the monitor and watching your boyfriend acting out a scene wherein Loki was about to step in to the role of Crown Prince of Asgard because Thor had "gone missing" due to one of the god's shenanigans turning his brother into a literal frog, wearing the very costume that had the internet running amok with how it made certain parts of him so prominently shaped that Marvel's considerably lower budget back then had to make room for extra editing to keep the final cut family friendly.

You never thought the day would come that you would see him in that costume just mere feet away from you. And to have him take on that majestic stance with his feet shoulder width apart and arms outstretched as he basked in the applause and praise that the people of Asgard were showering him with?

"Fucking end me," you muttered as soon as Kate yelled for them to cut the cameras.

"Okay now I get why they needed the extra CGI budget for that bulge fucking Christ on a crutch," Bryan commented, lightly nudging at your shoulder to snap you out and stop you from shamelessly staring. "Why madam, should I go get you a paper towel or something for that bit of drool at the corner of your mouth?"

"Better get one for yourself as well, Bry. Now stop ogling my boyfriend before I get tempted to check if those prop daggers have any stab in them."

He gave you a playful scandalized look before walking away, making a big show of wiping his sleeve at the corner of his mouth to get a laugh out of you.

You turned back to face the monitor, only to have your face inches away from the 'fabled mango' that had a rather large corner of the internet in absolute shambles whenever a picture would be released that had it in plain view. Your eyes traveled upwards until they met with Tom's ocean blue ones, your boyfriend greeting you with a wide smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes that he was barely trying to keep contained.

"I suggest you take a step back unless you're fully prepared to give all our colleagues a show," you warned him, starting to mirror the expression on his face.

"But this is such an enticing view, sweetheart, why would I want to give it up?" he shot back, fingertips lightly tracing along your jawline. "And I highly doubt that you're fully prepared to give our colleagues a show."

You only responded to him by slowly running your tongue across the top row of your teeth. "Are you sure about that, sweetie?" That made him take a step back, causing you to break out into a wide grin and scrunching your nose at him. "So how's the costume feel?" you asked him while you two walked toward his trailer.

"Surprised it still fits, if I'm being honest," he answered you with a slight laugh. "Actually it might…fit a little better than it did a decade ago."

"Ooh, good you're still here." You both gave Kate a small wave as she jogged up to you. "I was about to tell you to make your way to Costuming to see if you needed any adjustments. Looks like you read my mind." She gave a quick look at your now joint hands, Tom hooking his finger around one of yours. "Y/N, I'm sure you can handle any adjustments he'll need so you two can go and work on that while we're setting up for the shot with the prop frog. And in case you two wanna say hi, Chris will be here today to record his lines as Frog Thor."

As if on cue, you heard a booming voice from several yards away. "Hi, Brother! Hi, tiny terror! Am I gonna be an uncle yet??"

"Not yet, Chris!" you both hollered back at him, making the Australian wave his hand in a jokingly dismissive manner at you before stepping in to the ADR area.

"There is something new about this costume now that I quite like," Tom spoke up again when you were just outside his trailer. "When I first had it, the inner layer under the metalwork used to be just one piece, like a bodysuit. Made it a whole affair just to go to the bathroom. Now it's a shirt and trousers setup and has a suspender mechanism worked into the metal to secure the bottom half in place. Made my day much easier."

"Well you're very welcome, sweetie," you responded absentmindedly, closing the trailer door.

"This was your work, goddess?"

"Uhm...yeah. I did some remote consultation last year for another superhero costume. The actor's main concern was how he'd pee while wearing the thing, so I drew up some sketches, made his suit a bit modular. But it was gonna be a conflict of interest if they got me for costume design considering my involvement with Marvel, so we minimized my work to justify not including my name in the credits."

You let out a tiny yelp feeling him walk behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as his nose traced a line from your collarbone to your ear. "Hmm…conflict of interest? So DC, then?" he rasped, nipping at your earlobe.

"Uh huh," you answered him breathlessly, leaning in to his embrace. "What I learned making the sketches for the Batsuit, I adapted into the adjustments for your costumes."

Something in the air shifted once the words left your mouth. His hold on you shifted into what almost felt…possessive. "Precious little mortal." The growl in his voice had you growing weaker in his arms. "Consulting behind enemy lines. For the man that I knew for a fact once held your attention so…fervently."

"Why sweetie, are you--Are you jealous? It was a college crush, and a light one at that." You turned in his arms to pull him into a quick kiss that quickly became heated, his hands moving to the backs of your thighs to lift you off your feet and press you against the wall of his trailer's tight entryway.

"It should matter not, so long as you remember that you are mine," he murmured against your lips, securing your body against the wall before moving to undo the suspenders under the metal armor by his hips. "Do you know what I particularly enjoy about your modifications, sweet Y/N?"

You shook your head at him, feeling your arousal pooling between your legs as he smirked at you, hearing the snap of the suspenders from underneath the armor coming off.

"Ease of access," he said simply, shuffling his pants down his thighs and freeing his quickly hardening length. His smirk widened into a devilish grin when he slipped his hand between your legs to find nearly drenched panties. "So gloriously eager…" he teased, moving the fabric to the side.

A high-pitched moan slipped from your lips when he eased his way into you, inch by torturous inch, in shallow thrusts. "Tom, sweetie I--"

"Thomas isn't here right now, pet."

Oh God. Oh fuck. "Loki?!"

"Such a clever little mortal," he grunted, starting to move in shallow thrusts, the tip of his cock easily brushing against a spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars especially from this angle. "Tell me you're mine." He let out a staggered breath, groaning into the crook of your neck as your warmth surrounded him. "T-Tell me who this gloriously tight p-perfect little quim belongs to."

"Y-You--oh f-fuck!" you told him shakily. "I belong to you. I'm yours, I'm all yours."

Obscene moans bounced off the walls of his trailer as he bit and sucked at your neck, working his hand between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit. "Louder, darling. Say my name. Scream it. Let everyone who dares listen know that only I may claim you like this."

Your body started to shake with how hard your climax hit you, your walls fluttering and clenching around him while you let out a guttural scream of "LOKI!" that might've scratched your throat halfway raw. Before you could say it again, he slanted his mouth over yours, muffling both your screams in a heated kiss that felt rife with desperation as you felt his release starting to fill you, his hips jerking in a staggered rhythm.

It barely crossed your mind that this might get you into a heaping pile of trouble. That you might have just put your job at stake for a quickie with your boyfriend. He broke the kiss with a slight gasp, kissing a path from your cheek down to your neck while you both took deep breaths coming down from your high.

When you heard his breaths grow softer you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and upper back, lightly stroking his hair before you tried to talk, the intensity of the last few minutes still having you struggling to form any coherent words. "Tom?"

You felt a slight wave of relief when he answered you softly. "Yes, goddess?"

"Look at me, sweetie." You pressed a soft kiss to his temple before he pulled away from your neck, nearly blacked out eyes meeting your own. "I love you. Only you." Your hands went to frame his face, thumbs tracing along the lines of his cheekbones. "I don't think I'll ever…No one else could ever--"

Before you could say anything else, he leaned in to cut you off with a kiss, the rest of the words you struggled to say dying off with a whimper at the back of your throat. You still couldn't find it in you to say them anyway. You're it for me. You're the last man I'm gonna love. There won't be an 'after you'.

"You know that, right?" you murmured against his lips, settling for those words instead.

"I do." He quickly stole another kiss from you before continuing, "Some days it just gets to me. The thought that someday someone might--"

"That will never happen." You crossed your hands behind his neck, pulling him close enough that he could rest his forehead on yours. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you're kinda stuck with me, sweetie."

"I may want to get that in writing one of these days," he shot back, his hands lightly grasping your sides before he pressed your bodies even closer together, if such a feat were even possible. "And if anything, you're stuck with me. There's no version of my future that I could ever see that doesn't have you with me."

He started to move inside you again, leaving you no choice but to process his words later, his hips moving in long, slow thrusts that had you feeling every devastating inch of him. "Again?" you whimpered breathlessly.

"You should know me well enough by now, goddess," he whispered, a devilish smile gracing his features and searing an image so erotically charged into your memory. "Once is never enough."

That was the day you agreed that quickies would never be an option again moving forward.

A/N: Another Kinktober 2023 story in the bag! Wait hold on…if I knocked out two prompts in this (kinda sorta), does this mean I only have 2 more to go before I get my initial goal or are y'all gonna absolutely snipe me ded if I pull that technicality? 🤣

I know I said 'bath/shower' with Magnus was next but I parallel-wrote that with this and this one got the banging out first while the other still has me blocked because smut is just…it's not my strong suit okay--it takes me 5-7 business days to get it done 🥴 Currently parallel writing that and the Conrad piece for 'slow & soft' and the President Loki piece for 'fingering' all at the same time so only time will tell which one of them will go up next 🫡

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

kinktober 2023 taglist: @azula-karai-27

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 12 all chapters

- Lunch is a lovely affair in a quaint little trattoria that has been making world class dishes since the turn of the previous century. It seems like every inch of this city is steeped in history. The prices on the menu would blow your whole daily budget on one meal. But the scampi alla Veneziana is out of this world, and you force yourself to eat slowly, and not just inhale the perfectly prepared shrimp and noodles with a delicate lemon olive oil dressing.

John's friend, Julius, is a kind and utterly elegant older man who accepts your presence at the table with kingly grace. They speak in a mixture of Italian and English, the latter you think is for your benefit. John very generously includes you in the conversation, telling Signor Castellari that you are an artist, talking you up to what you feel is an exaggerated degree. Julius asks to see your work, and you let him flip through your new sketch book. Your drawings are a mixture of studies and whimsical travelogue, and it feels like you’re baring a piece of your soul, but he’s so gracious you feel you can’t say no. 

There is more than one sketch of Mr. Wick in those pages you did from memory with an aching heart, but the old man is kind enough not to call you out on it, or even draw John’s attention to it. You think if he did, you would simply crawl under the table and die of embarrassment.  

He exclaims over an ink and watercolor pencil plein air you did in Rome of a sunset over St. Peters with the Sant’Angelo bridge in the foreground, saying it reminds him of a special day when he was a much younger man. You offer to let him keep it, and he seems truly delighted. 

You watch with some surprise as John produces what looks like a razor-sharp knife from seemingly nowhere to carefully cut the page from your book. Julius accepts it like a precious treasure, and you are flattered to your toes.

Then John and Julius chat about older books, and Julius produces a very old looking volume, handing it over for the younger man’s perusal. As he runs his hands over the leather cover John’s eyes shine with an almost childish delight—its utterly adorable.

While they are gushing over the antique tome two intimidating men in dark suits approach the table, fixing John with a hard look. One of them has a gnarly scar bisecting his brow. They say something that sounds none too friendly. You catch the name d’Antonio—but John waves them off with a glare, insisting, “Sono ritrirato.”

You’re pretty sure that means I’m retired.

Julius watches the exchange with a sadness in his eyes you don’t understand.

Finally after some grumbling the tough men go away. John watches them with eyes sharp as a hawk’s, and something in the back of your brain titters a little warning. But you’re having too lovely of a time with Signor Castellari, so you ignore it.

When you part ways Julius kisses your cheeks and takes your hands in his. “Be good to him, bella,” he says with a glance to John. “No one I know deserves happiness more than him.” 

You don't want to contradict him about your actual relationship with John, so you just nod.

Later you ask, “Did you tell him we're...”

“No, but even if I told him we weren't, he wouldn't have believed me. Sorry. I hope that didn't make you uncomfortable...”

“It's fine,” you say, not offended in the least.

It’s more than fine.

It's incredibly flattering, really, that he thought the two of you could be a match. You're fairly sure you look like an unsophisticated street urchin next to Mr. John Wick.

“Where would you like to go now?” John asks with a little smile, as though he knows you've been hopelessly turned around for the past two days. You’ve managed to find the big landmarks, like the Piazza San Marco and the Doge’s Palace. It’s the smaller sights that have escaped you.

“Let’s go for a walk,” you suggest, wanting to see the city, and knowing you will finally get to do it unmolested with the forbidding figure of John towering at your side.

You are standing on a bridge, watching gondolas go by, when he asks you, “If I told you I have a reservation at Casa Nova, would you have dinner with me?” 

You press your lips nervously. Lunch is one thing, you know, and dinner something else entirely. Two people alone together in an intimate setting, sharing a meal over candlelight with good wine...the thought sends a thrill to the tips of your fingers that’s so intense it’s almost painful.

 “I don't have anything to wear to a place like that,” you admit. You read about it in a Condé Nast magazine on the plane, and you’re pretty sure it has at least one Michelin star. “I'm backpacking. My dresses are literally all rolled up in a bundle.” 

He chuckles at that, a low sound that tugs at your abdomen. He leans a little closer on the railing, and not for the first time this day you just wish he would kiss you.

“What if...I took you shopping?”

You raise an eyebrow to that. “Are you trying to be my sugar daddy, Mr. Wick?” You mean it as a joke, but suddenly there is something electric in the air between you. John's initial embarrassment sharpens to something almost…predatory.

It catches your breath in your throat. 

“Do you want a sugar daddy, y/n?”

You laugh it off nervously, your heart skittering about in your chest. 

“Very funny.”

You have a feeling he wasn’t joking at all.

However, like a gentleman he lets you have the out, but doesn't drop the shopping offer. 

“Let's go to the Calle Larga,” he says, and out of pure curiosity you agree. 

John's idea of shopping is taking you to Gucci.

The impeccable store is filled with beautifully crafted but honestly kind of boring goods, arbitrarily priced at a thousand dollars or more a piece. John fits in perfectly with the smartly dressed clientele, but you? You feel so incredibly out of place amidst the filthy rich people in the shop, and when you look at the price tag on the only dress you vaguely like you think you might break out in hives.

“John...”

You don't recognize it just yet, but you call him John when you're agitated, and Mr. Wick when you're feeling playful. 

He senses the desperation in that one word, and he takes you by the hand, leading you outside. 

“I'm sorry...” you say, because you feel stupid, and not posh enough by half to pull off any of the clothes in that high-end boutique. You are a bonafide gremlin, compared to the unearthly creatures in there. You do not belong, and maybe you’re a coward, but a part of you wishes John would just let you go back to your own plans for the evening. A long solo walk, a cheap slice of pizza, inevitably get lost in the maze of streets and canals, draw a little or read some of your book, before returning to your hard, lumpy hostel bed alone, where you can’t make a fool of yourself.

“Don't be,” he says with an amused little smile that makes your tide of panic recede a little. “I like it that you know this stuff is bullshit,” he soothes you. 

“I just...it’s so out of my wheel house.” You could have paid nearly four months rent for what that dress had cost.

He nods. “It takes some getting used to,” he admits. “I certainly wasn't born into this.” 

You wonder if he’ll ever tell you about his earlier life, but sense this isn’t the time or place to press him.  

“I just don't want you to spend your hard-earned money on stupid things for me.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t work hard for my money…” he offers with a wan little smile. “But it would make me happy to spend it on you. If it would make you happy.” 

You look at him for a long time. He meets your gaze, not flinching. There’s something different about him here. He’s more…open with you, perhaps? It takes some getting used to. He’d never outright admitted his interest in you before, always circling around it, and you wonder what’s changed.

Maybe not even John Wick is immune to the romantic atmosphere of il bel paese.

“Why are you being so good to me?” 

“I like you, y/n. If you haven't noticed.” The corner of his mouth quirks at that. 

It makes you sigh. 

“I like you too, Mr. Wick.”

He makes a small sound in the back of his throat. 

“You can call me John.”

“But do you want me to call you John?” you tease.

He moves a fraction closer, looming over you, and for a heart stopping moment you think maybe now he might finally kiss you?

“Depends,” he admits, his voice gone a little rough, but he doesn't elaborate further.

You feel as though you have a live electric wire sparking under your skin.  

He steps back a little, and again you feel the loss of him like an ache over your heart. You continue to stroll down the street. You are not entirely sure how your hand ends up in his, only that it is there, and you are content. 

None of the high fashion shops really interest you, until you pass by the window of Dolce and Gabbana, and your feet involuntarily slow as you take in the maximalist riot of glitz and color on the mannequin. You've always admired their wildly bedazzled designs, flaming hearts and candy colored jewels with copious gold embroidered trim. Maybe you’re just a crow-brained peasant who’s impressed by shiny things, but they look so fun.

John smiles a little, as though he’s finally answered some question to himself about you. “Aha,” he says teasingly, and you sigh, restraining yourself from pressing your nose to the window like a child outside a candy store.

“Can we just…look?” 

You are trying to be reasonable. 

“We can.” 

As it turns out, you want one of everything in the store.

It's all so over the top, the designs are so artistic and ridiculous and unabashedly joyful, from bejeweled purses to crown-adorned headphones, loud floral dresses and majolica printed silk scarves, and you fight not to betray which pieces catch your eye because you're afraid John might buy them all.

He is drinking in your enjoyment, looking utterly pleased.

Even just the store itself is utterly breathtaking inside, crystal chandeliers, inlaid marble floors and stone pillars. Gilded crown moulding and inlaid wood trim. You could just sit and look at this place like it’s a museum, you reckon.

John is not looking at the building though. He watches you browse with eyes that miss nothing, and it makes you squirm a little. You feel so seen. You’re not sure you like it, like you’ve been caught in the act of enjoying something that you know is absurd.

You feel absolutely silly.

“Try something on,” he urges you. To be practical, you decide to try on a black lace dress. Just in case you might like it. And a pair of black platform wedges printed with crimson red roses…because you can actually walk in them, so it makes sense, you know...

When you exit the dressing room John's gaze darkens, his pupils blown wide with desire, and once again you sense that predatory edge in him. If you had any sense you might have been scared, or at least cautious—but all it does is give you the most exquisite chills, an aching sense of anticipation, and an excess of moisture pooled between your thighs.

“That one,” he confirms, and for the way he looks at you, like you are a bunny in the woods he'd like to eat up whole, the outrageous price of the ensemble seems like a bargain.

[aarajungle]

Couple Friendly Resort Near Coimbatore

Experience romantic bliss at Aara Jungle Resort, the ultimate couple friendly resort in Coimbatore. Indulge in tranquility and privacy amid nature's charm.

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Happiness— Jack Hughes

Summary: In which Jack and your marriage has run its course.

Content Warning; Angst without a happy ending, divorce, emotional distress, etc

Pairings: Fem Reader x Jack Hughes, Fem Reader x Nico Hischier

Inspired by ‘Happiness’ By Taylor Swift

All the years I’ve given is just shit we’re dividing up

You stared at Jack hopelessly. You and him had been together since you were 15 years old. Now you sat oceans away from each other. The lawyer cleared her throat, “So all we’re doing here today is dividing assets before we get further into the divorce.” There was less than ten feet separating you and your husband of 4 years. However you felt like you were standing on separate continents. Danielle, the lawyer continued, “Neither of you brought dependents into the marriage is that correct?” You cleared your throat, “Yes, neither of us has children.”

Danielle nodded, “So it seems all we really need to cover is the properties. There’s the skyrise apartment in New Jersey, the high rise loft in NYC, the condo in Tampa and the apartment in Toronto.” Jack spoke up, “I only want the apartment in Jersey and Toronto.” Danielle turned to you with an expecting look on her face. You looked at Jack and let out a defeated sigh, “That’s fine. I didn’t come here to fight.” Jack shook his head slightly and faced Danielle who went on to explain the regulations on divorce and ownership of properties.

I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes me spot next to you.

This week had been really rough for you. You and Jack’s fifth anniversary would have been this week, and working so closely with Jack wasn’t helping. You had been cleaning your lens to your camera you’d used for tonight’s game when the players filed off the ice. Jack ending the line of players, and scoffing to himself as you smiled at him kindly. He walked past you and stopped when he he heard a feminine voice call out to him.

Out of habit you looked up to watch the scene unfold. A beautiful woman dressed in a long bright red furry coat and black leather pants with perfectly blown out black curls and bright red lipstick approached him and enveloped him into her embrace. You couldn’t make out the words that were being shared but the encounter ended with the woman kissing Jack warmly. You felt your heart drop into your stomach and you shoved your stuff into your bag and hurried to your office to upload the photos to your computer and hard drive.

No one teaches you what to do, when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him too.

The holiday season crept up on you this year. You’d been too wrapped up in rebuilding your life and relationship with yourself am your divorce. You had been roped into doing a Secret Santa with the players and the other social media administrators. You were somewhat disappointed in the fact you pulled Jack’s name. The holidays had always been the best time of year for you two. This would be the first year you weren’t together.

Jack was officially cursed, his girlfriend, Tessa had just found out that she was pregnant and then he was roped into doing Secret Santa. And with his luck this year he drew your name. He hadn’t spoken to you in a higher capacity then, “Are we done here?” Or “Where should I stand?” since the divorce was made final. He’d always sneered in your direction whenever he noticed you lingering or trying to be friendly with him. He just wasn’t ready for it to be amicable yet. He figured he’d probably just get you a candle or a gift card or something. If you’d gotten him you’d do the same thing.

You’d known Jack had grown to dislike the holidays since he and his siblings were all split up for Christmas due to their hockey schedules. You also knew that the Devils didn’t play again until the weekend after New Year’s. So you decided to buy two first class tickets to Vancouver for Jack and Luke, admittedly you went over the budget but you had saved the money all year for you and Jack to go for Christmas anyways. So you put those in a cute envelope and wrote a small note and slipped it in the envelope before sealing it and writing Jack’s name in beautiful calligraphy.

You slipped it onto the table of gifts on your way to your office the morning of the exchange. You went to your office and got to work updating Instagram and Twitter accounts. Eventually you ventured out to go get a cup of coffee, you had to walk past the table of gifts so you figured you would check to see if your gift was there and it wasn’t so you assumed it may have been in the possession of your secret Santa still. You went to get your coffee and drank it before rinsing your mug and putting it in the dish drainer after. You returned to your office and got out your camera and went to get some practice shots.

Hours later after practice everyone was ready to do the gift exchange so you all filed into the conference room. The gifts were passed out and you watched quietly as Jack picked up his envelope and Nico commented on the pretty handwriting. Luke glanced over at you, recognizing the handwriting from a birthday card he’d received from you and Jack a few years earlier. Jack opened the envelope and immediately broke out into a huge grin, “Because I know you miss them. Go home(Take Luke too.) It’s two first class tickets to Vancouver.” Luke looked at you as Jack looked around the room, “Who got these?” Everyone stayed quiet and Tyler, a right winger ended the silence by opening his gift which turned out to be a pair of arthritis socks given to him by Ethan.

You went to open yours, hopeful since it was a decent sized box. Your smile flattened as you lifted the top of the box. Inside were a box of tissues, a bottle of 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner conditioner, eye masks, concealer, some breath mints and some baby wipes. Tyler’s shit eating grin he’d been sporting the entire ordeal dropped as he caught a glimpse of the contents of the gift. He looked up, “You better be fucking around Hughes. You didn’t give her just that right? I mean how big of a douche can you be?” You waved it off, “It’s fine Ty. I don’t mind. There’s always a bad gift right?”

Nico shook his head spoke up, “No way sugar, there’s bad gifts like what I got and there’s unacceptable gifts.” Jack looked down at his feet, feeling internally bad upon seeing tears forming in your eyes as you defended probably the worst gift in the history of Secret Santa. Luke turned to his brother and spoke in a low tone, “You know she got you right? I mean you were her husband for 4 years you have to recognize her handwriting.” Jack froze as he looked at his brother who’d found a picture of a birthday card he’d received that had Jack’s name in the identical handwriting. He looked up to find you had left the room, leaving your gift on the table.

There’ll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you

It was the end of the season Devil’s banquet and you still had to shoot photos. You were sitting on the edge of the stage in a silk pale blue shimmery gown with a slit up the side and your hair pulled back and light lipstick adorning your otherwise makeup free face. You had your eye pressed against the viewfinder as you took pictures of the team and their significance others. Your eyes admittedly landing on Jack and his girlfriend more than they should. You were slightly startled when Nico sat down beside you, “So how’s my best girl doing tonight?”

You laughed, “Nico just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean I have to be your best girl.” Nico smiled, “I know, but you’re still my best girl.” You smiled, “I’m alright Honey. You look nice.” Nico pressed a kiss against your cheek, “You look like Cinderella.” You giggled, “Does that make you Prince Charming?” Nico grinned, “Darling, I’d be Shrek if it made you happy.”

All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness. You haven’t met the new me yet, and I think she’ll give you that.

You were straightening your office up before heading out for the weekend. You were logging out of your desktop when a knock on your door startled you. Jack smiled softly and held his hands up in surrender, “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. I’m sorry.” You smiled as you scrawled a note for yourself to change your water filter next week, “You’re good Jack, what’s up? I’m on my way out now.” Jack rubbed his hands against his jeans, “I just want to apologize for everything, the divorce and all.”

You smiled, “Don’t worry about it Jack.” Jack shook his head in disagreement, “No way, I was royally shitty to you before, during and after the divorce was finalized. I’m sorry I treated you like that. I just guess I didn’t realize that my best friend was going through a divorce too not just me.” You smiled softly, “It’s okay Jack. It was your first time going through a divorce too. We just weren’t meant to be married anymore. I mean we got married like 5 seconds after we graduated high school. It wasn’t realistically going to work.” Jack laughed softly, “Are you sure we’re all good?”

You grinned as you crossed the room and engulfed him into a warm hug, “I’m going home to my boyfriend and your girlfriend is having a baby Hughie. We’re all good.” Jack smiled, “Thanks Y/n, I’ve missed being friends.” You smiled as you and him exited your office, “Me too. Drive safe Hughes, tell the boys I said hello and give your mom my love.” You walked away from Jack finally finding your inner happiness.

[shygirl4991]

Mistletoe Wars

Im keeping my word everyone!

Summary: SMG4 and 3 are fighting to see who is throwing the best Christmas party, but when someone brings a surprise mistletoe to the fight both men will end up having an unexpected heart to heart.

Tags: Fluff, love confession, comedy, mistletoe kiss

 SMG4 stands proud in the main lobby of his castle looking at his set up for this year's Christmas party, he made sure the castle had everything. A daycare for Mario to prevent the plumber from going crazy and more then likely setting the party on fire. A game section for his gaming friends, though SMG4 was only able to get his hand on one game only. The table had plenty of food and not to mention he got a Santa Claus area for his friends to make their Christmas wish.  Nothing can ruin this day after all he throws these parties every year and they always manage to save the day when things take a turn. 

He then runs outside excited to check on his high budget premium christmas light only to notice it wasn't working, in a panic he runs to check the outlet to trip over a cord.  Following the cord he tripped on he notices SMG3 on top of his cafe plugging his own high budget premium christmas light. He gets up running to the man upset “Oi! Turn that off! You're hogging all the electricity!” he paused “nice high budget lights tho,” he had to admit his rival had good taste in lights. SMG3 smiles flattered that his friendly rival noticed his taste “Thanks! And uhh NO!” just because they are on good terms meant he would let his idiot neighbor tell him what to do.  He smirks “I need the extra power for my lights for my upcoming christmas party!” This year he was going to out party SMG4. Two years he has been invited to SMG4 parties and finally understood why everyone loved Christmas so much. Now he was going to prove to the crew he can be just as cool as SMG4. 

SMG3 eyes go wide in shock “WHAT BUT I'M HOLDING A PARTY!” there was no way he was going to let SMG3 take the spotlight of the first ever Christmas on the showgrounds. “Come on SMG3 it's the first party on the showgrounds and it's super important to me,” before he can finish his sentence SMG3 rolls his eyes “Dont care and i'm pretty sure i didn't ask.” “Well it won't matter because my party will be cooler than yours!” He couldn't stand this man. Sure they may friends but that doesnt mean he wont start a war with his partner to show who truly is the best.  The two get to work decorating their place and making sweet treats to lure their friends over to their location. SMG4 looks at his watch and panics seeing it's almost time for the party, he dashes out of his castle and heads to Mario's place where everyone was waiting. 

Anxiety was eating at him, as he ran into Mario’s house, if his friends pick SMG3 party what would it mean? Could he lose his friends to his rival? He kicks down the door “guys you're still coming to my christmas party right? Please don't abandon me!” he didn't mean to say the last part but his anxiety was overwhelming him at the moment. His friends stare at him with concern while Mario is excited to see him “SMG4 we are playing go fish!” they indeed were not playing go fish he was pretty sure they were playing monopoly. Tari smiles at him “oh SMG4 we were just planning to head on over to your party!” Relief washed over him knowing that his friends would never abandon him for someone else, Meggy agreed with Tari letting him know that there was no way she would miss his parties. Truly he has amazing friends “Aw thanks you guys, now let's go party!” Suddenly an ad plays catching everyone's attention. It was SMG3 showing off his party and all the events he had going on, he even managed to find Santa and held him hostage at the cafe. 

Suddenly he lost his friends' attention as they all ran to go to SMG3 party for a ball pit, in a panic he dashed after them “Wait guys my party has two ball pits!” Being ignored he knew he had no other choice than to lay guilt on them thick, he looks down and acts like he is about to cry “Guys..are you really going to skip out on my party, after everything we have been through?” The plan worked as he saw each friend look down guilty before agreeing to go to his party, he gave them a soft smile as they walked into the castle. Then he turns and smirks at SMG3 before walking into the house, seeing that SMG3 knew he had to pull out the big guns. 

The pair begin their war attacking each other, forcing the crew to go back and forth, from avoiding bees to lame memes the crew was getting drained from the fight. Meggy groans at them yet again being chased out of SMG4 castle “This is getting ridiculous, there has to be a way to stop this!” The crew agrees as they wait for the next attack.  That's when a gift fell from the sky landing in front of them, looking up they saw Santa had escaped his imprisonment and dropped a box for them. Opening it they found a  mistletoe, Tari took it out of the box confused “How can this help?” Mario smirks, taking it from Tari “Mario has the perfect plan for this!” 

The crew run into SMG3 party acting like they are so relieved to be away from SMG4 “Oh thank god the fun party!” Meggy shouts to catch Three's attention.  He smiles and hands a gingerbread man to her “Hell yeah you are, now would you like a treat they are fresh!” While Three was distracted Mario put up the mistletoe and chuckled as he walked up to SMG3.  Just in time SMG4 charges in ready for his next attack, seeing his rival Three stomps over to him. Meggy and Mario both nod “You know what would prove who is better?” Both men turned looking at Meggy who was pointing upward. Confused, both men looked up, SMG4 eyes went wide seeing the mistletoe above them. SMG3 stared in shock feeling his face slowly heat up turning his cheeks pink. “Mario thinks whoever does it first has best party!” Both men looked down at each other awkwardly, they wanted to win but were they willing to go so far. SMG4 then came up with an idea “Why don't we just ask youtube? I will do a poll and the winner has to do it, if they don't the other wins.”

SMG3 didn't want to have to kiss the man in front of him but he had no choice; he needed to prove he can have fun parties too. Four set up the poll and watched the votes go in, slowly he became horrified. They were voting for him to be the coolest, meaning he had to kiss SMG3 or he would lose the war. “Well scrub? I'm sure you want to quit and that's fine, your friends and I will have fun over here!” He turns to face Three “I wont lose!” surprise SMG3 squeaks as Four grabs his arms and pulls him into a kiss. The crew gasped in surprise that he actually did it, while Mario took photos. SMG4 pulled away smirking “I win!” Three face was bright red at the sudden kiss unsure how to process all the emotions going through him. Then in a flash Santa comes back to nuke the place as payback for his kidnapping, SMG4 falls to his knees seeing everything on fire. While SMG3 finally snaps out of his trance to join SMG4 on the floor crying over everything burning. Meggy walks up to them patting their backs “Guys Christmas isn't about who has the best party, it's about spending it with loved ones like us your friends!” Tari jumps in with a drawing of them all with the words friends written on top. SMG4 smiles at his friends trying to cheer them up, only SMG3 seemed to be lost in thought. 

He gently taps SMG3 to get his attention, while it worked it made him worried about what the man could be thinking about. SMG3 gets flustered seeing the drawing “FRIENDS?! I mean uh I'd rather die than be friends with you guys!” Four giggles at the man’s act. Now that the pair weren't crying the crew had no idea what to do next, both hang outs are on fire and Mario’s place isn't big enough to have a party. That's when Bob chimes in to go to his place, with everyone in agreement they head off to Bob's home.

Everyone was there holding hands around a christmas tree, except for two meme guardians. SMG3 grabs SMG4 and drags him away form the group “Alright, what the hell was that gay shit earlier?” Four let out a sheepish smile “Uh i wanted to win?” he wanted to smack himself for such a stupid line. SMG3 glares at him before Four lets out a sigh, sure he wanted to win the battle but something else wanted to do it because it was SMG3. Things between them have changed so much, even his yelling and eye rolls had more affection to them then two years ago when they started to become friends. 

SMG4 looks up at the sky “SMG3, you notice that things feel different with us? It could just be me but in my desperation to beat your party, kissing you has made me see something.” SMG3 was getting ready to fight whatever burn Four was cooking but it never came. Instead he felt his breath get taken when SMG4 turned, giving him such a loving smile he didn't know what to do. “Remember our first kiss? I didn't trust you, still saw you as evil and hated that kiss, but this one…I wish it lasted more.” SMG3 blushes freaking out “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT! Do you know how gay this sounds!?” 

SMG4 nods feeling himself starting to blush, seeing that Four was being honest with his feelings he decided to try something. “You're an idiot, if you think this will get you anywhere it wont. I mean that kiss was awful. I'm a way better kisser!” Hearing this SMG4 smirks “Oh, well then if you're so good at kissing prove it~”

Three gave the bait and the other man took it. Knowing clearly how the other man felt made his heart flutter, it was now or never as he grabbed SMG4 hand. Blushing he leans forward pressing his lips against Fours. This kiss felt different from earlier, there was more emotion in it. SMG4 intertwined his fingers with SMG3 then with his free hand pulled him closer. They don't know how long they spent kissing under the stars on christmas night, SMG3 didn't care at the moment. Because for the first time in his life he is feeling true happiness, as they slowly pull apart Three shyly looks away not letting go of Four’s hand “See i'm way better.”

SMG4 giggles trying to hide his blush “I don't know about that, maybe we have to try again sometime…maybe over coffee?” SMG3 rolled his eyes at Four attempting to be sneaky about asking him out “The shop is closed on Tuesday around 1pm, maybe if you show up i can show you my skills again.” SMG4 squeezes Three hand and gives him a bright smile “Then it's a date!” 

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Softcore

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Artificial Paradise

**Finally finishing up Uni forever --- well, until I decide what to do my Master's on. About to go hard on finals so wish me luck on that. I'm so sorry for the wait!

...

It's been a while since you've had a chance to catch your breath from all the messed-up stuff swirling around in your everyday jujutsu life. A week has passed since that little... "moment" back on Halloween.

Honestly, it was supposed to be a good, vulnerable moment between the three of you — something that should've solidified your bond. But, you can't shake this sense of shame.

Shame for multiple reasons, but the main one is that, for some reason, you feel ashamed for feeling the way you did. For expressing yourself the way you did. That vulnerability you felt in Gojo's arms, watching as Suguru took his own swig from the sake bottle — it frustrated you to no end. Why did you feel so awful just being in the moment? In a way, you felt humiliated for being so raw with others. But at the same time, you argued with yourself that what you did was okay. Of course, you have the right to expression — a right to sensation, a right to feeling.

Yet, you can't help but want to shove that night into the background so those feelings won't sting anymore. Whatever you felt, it's confusing to say the least.

Despite the inner turmoil, you pushed through — the best you could manage for the moment was to shove those feelings aside. Because, let's face it, if you indulged in those thoughts, you'd likely end up diving headfirst into a sea of emotions, drowning in them until it seemed like you'd never felt anything else.

Fortunately, today just so happens to be one of the best distractions imaginable.

It's Ieiri's birthday.

If it weren't for Utahime creating a group chat just for the birthday party, you wouldn't have even known it was Ieiri's birthday.

Originally, Ieiri wasn't keen on doing anything special for her birthday, leaning towards a chill day at the park with some convenience store snacks and her favorite pack of cigarettes. But Utahime insisted, emphasizing that her little kouhei deserved a proper celebration. So, everyone tossed in their own ideas — mainly you, Mei Mei, Utahime, Haibara, and Kento.

Utahime was all about a shopping spree, Mei Mei favored an amusement park, Haibara suggested a classic dinner at a restaurant, and surprisingly, Kento threw in the idea of a night out in Shibuya. Gojo and Suguru were predictably useless; Gojo with his absurd ideas, and Suguru just going with the flow.

Honestly, you didn't pitch in any ideas either. You thought Ieiri's original plan was pretty nice. It felt more intimate than the traditional options. Nevertheless, the idea of hitting Shibuya and diving into the nightlife gained popularity in the group, especially when Gojo realized he could easily charm some pretty girls at the club.

And thus, the steps to heading out to Shibuya began.

Getting Ready

Just like the chaos of preparing for the waterpark months ago, getting ready this time was an absolute mess among the three of you. Especially when Ieiri asked you to help with her makeup — not gonna lie, you had to watch a few YouTube videos just to figure out what the hell to do.

You and Ieiri rushed to the nearest makeup store, searching for budget-friendly brands so you could assist her.

Side note: Ieiri only had the essentials like mascara and lip gloss, but considering it was a night out in one of Japan's busiest areas, she decided to go big with it.

Then there were Suguru and Gojo, bickering about what outfits to wear since they wanted to either match or at least have complementary outfits. This whole matching outfit thing started a few months back when you and Gojo unintentionally showed up with nearly identical outfits, sparking teasing from Suguru and Ieiri. After that, it became a quirky routine to find something that coordinated with the others' clothes.

Side note: Another factor was that each of you had a habit of raiding each other's closets, especially Suguru's, given his penchant for oversized clothing. His wardrobe was practically a hot commodity within your little trio.

The dorm rooms in disarray, small piles of clothes scattered in the hallways from Gojo tossing everything out of his closet, forgetting his door is wide open. Suguru shuttling back and forth between his room and yours, showcasing outfits for judgment, only to grumble and search for another when either you or Ieiri vetoes the look. You, attempting a YouTube tutorial while applying budget foundation on Ieiri's face, accidentally smearing some on the lollipop stick she's perpetually chewing on. The floor becomes a makeup disaster zone as you holler for Gojo to fetch you an outfit from your closet. He barges in, tiptoeing around you, eyeing how you're doing Ieiri's makeup, and can't resist making a comment. Suguru peeks in, curious about the commotion.

Cut to the climax — Gojo and Suguru literally shoving you aside as Gojo grabs the setting powder, tapping it onto the birthday girl's skin, while Suguru crouches beside them, offering ideas for eyeshadow styles and more. Meanwhile, you're rolling your eyes and grappling with the decision of what to wear.

Ah, don't forget the music. Every room has its own soundtrack as everyone gears up individually — each of you with your dedicated playlist for getting ready. Honestly, it's as chaotic as it gets, especially when Yaga storms down, hollering for all of you to clean up the mess while sneakily appreciating Gojo's makeup on Ieiri.

You and Suguru linger in the background, tossing all of Gojo's clothes into the closet without bothering much about hangers and such. That's a problem for future him.

Curious about what Kento and Haibara are up to as they get ready for the night? Well, Kento is bombarding your phone with pictures of potential outfits he's considering. In the background of these photos, you can spot Haibara making faces and waving at you. Midway through this whole ordeal, he even gave you a call. During the conversation, not many words were exchanged; instead, you both used each other's sounds as a sort of background noise while putting on your outfits, only to take them off and start the process anew.

Every now and then, you'd catch Haibara screaming something in the background — usually about not being able to find his favorite socks or some such. Kento, in response, would grumble under his breath before directing him to the last place he saw the elusive socks.

Before long, Mei Mei and Utahime reached the school gates. Yaga guided them to the dorm rooms, and the three of them observed the chaos unfolding with all four of you (Kento and Haibara were on the other side) scrambling around to gather the rest of your stuff.

Gojo was putting the finishing touches on Ieiri's makeup while she tidied up her room. Suguru haphazardly tossed the remainder of his clothes onto his bed, and you dashed to your room with Kento still chatting in your ear while you struggled to put on your shoes. Meanwhile, Utahime was yelling at all of you for leaving such a mess, and Mei Mei chuckled under her breath, commenting on how cute it was that Gojo knew how to do makeup.

On a side note, you had Gojo's glasses, so you had to sidle over to him as he touched up Ieiri's lipstick, all the while putting the glasses on his own face, with Mei Mei cooing in the background.

On the way to Shibuya

The trip to Shibuya isn't long, but as your little group sprints onto the train, time seems to speed up with everyone bickering and bantering. Mei Mei and Gojo are doing their usual banter dance, sprinkled with a few flirty comments here and there. Suguru is engrossed in a deep conversation with Kento near the window, while Ieiri and Utahime chat animatedly with each other.

Haibara is trying to strike up a conversation with you, but for the life of you, you can't seem to respond. It's as if your thoughts are shrouded in a fog. You feel like you're not entirely present, but you desperately want to be—your gaze seemingly lost in space, unfocused.

Before you know it, a warm sensation envelops your hand, grounding you back to reality. Haibara is leaning over you, a slightly concerned expression on his face as he quietly asks if you're alright.

"Are you alright? You seem... off." Blinking away the remnants of your brain fog, you manage a nod and respond with a quick, "Yeah, just, uh, spaced out a bit."

Haibara frowns, "You've been doing that a lot. Did something happen?"

Internally, you think, "What didn't happen?"

Trying to suppress an eye roll at his concern becomes an act of frustration. Why would you do that when it's perfectly fine for him to express concern? After all, he cares about you.

Stop being a fucking bitch.

With a slight, disarming smile, you shrug. "I'm just going through one of those moments—it'll pass eventually. So no need to worry about it." He doesn't seem entirely convinced, but then again, he knows better than to push you for an answer.

You've always been like a brick wall, unyielding and towering. Just when something manages to climb, they only catch a glimpse of the other side before more bricks are piled on, obstructing their view.

With a soft hum, Haibara settles back into the seat beside yours, sinking into his chair before resting his head on your shoulder. He traces small circles on the back of your hand as you attempt to steady your breathing.

Side Note: Kento and Suguru were actually brainstorming ways to cheat on the upcoming exam. The two of them were seriously fried from all the missions, studying, and non-stop testing. Kento floated the idea, and Suguru ran with it. Right now, they're thinking of scribbling the answers on the inside of their collars — they figure it's a safe bet since they've got a solid track record as studious guys.

The Shibuya Scene

It didn't take long before you could sense yourself distancing from your more negative emotions—or, in reality, the closer you got to Shibuya, you pushed yourself to catch the group's infectious energy. You let it flow through you, sweeping all your thoughts, worries, and insecurities to the back of your mind. The bustling crowds on the train, everyone dressed up for the night ahead, helped in the process.

For the first time that day, you could finally breathe as you jumped to your feet, pulling Haibara along with you.

Dragging Haibara along, you hustled over to Suguru, who had kindly volunteered to be the backpack carrier for everyone's stuff. You held the bag for him while he got up from his seat, with Kento standing behind you, attempting to steady a very dizzy and giggling Haibara who quipped, "Well, you bounced back up pretty quick."

If only he knew.

Your initial mission was to grab some food because, for some reason, none of you felt particularly hungry before heading out. But the moment those train doors swung open, Gojo started complaining about how famished he was. He slung his arm over Kento, who was visibly irritated by the gesture. His blonde eyebrows twitched as he attempted to shove the clingy Gojo off.

You stumbled upon this quaint spot called Zuicho—a bit hidden and surprisingly small. Only eight seats were available, but luck was on your side as most of the patrons had left, leaving 7 out of the 8 seats open. The restaurant specialized in katsudon, and despite the limited menu, the reviews were solid, so the group decided, "Why not?" Kento generously offered Ieiri the last available seat while he opted to eat standing, patiently waiting for the lingering customer to vacate the spot.

One stern look from Mei Mei, and the man occupying the final chair hastily scurried away, bowl in hand. This prompted the restaurant staff to shout and chase after the fleeing diner. Surprisingly, Gojo footed the bill for the pilfered bowl, nonchalantly waving his little black card around as if it were of no value whatsoever.

Upon arriving at Shibuya Cross, Mei Mei, accompanied by an exuberant Haibara, suggests the idea of a group picture. Mainly, Mei Mei seizes the opportunity to stand closer to Gojo as everyone finds their spots, enlisting a stranger with tinted glasses to take the photo – another young foreigner, much like yourself. Eventually, the group naturally disperses, exploring the area. Though not old enough for the clubs, curiosity propels your little groups through the bustling streets.

Gojo ends up pulling Suguru toward a group of admiring girls, while Mei Mei attempts conversation with the relatively unresponsive Kento, who keeps an eye on you and Haibara. The two of you are engrossed in a debate over whether to spend money at an intriguing kiosk. Utahime and Ieiri have vanished, likely off seeking possible group activities.

Side note: Utahime brings out a pink sash and a tiara both proclaiming "birthday girl," draping them over Ieiri. Ieiri nearly lunges at Gojo when he manages to snap a photo of her unawares. You and Utahime have to hold her back while Suguru gives Gojo a smack on the back of the head amid his maniacal laughter.

Add-On: Gojo slyly managed to shoot the picture over to Suguru, who sneakily checked it out after Gojo deleted the photo on his phone right in front of Ieiri. Suguru decided to hold onto it, a mischievous grin playing on his face as he and Gojo exchanged a knowing glance.

A while after the photo, something neon catches your eye. Next thing you know, Utahime and Haibara are jumping up and down, excitedly yelling about Mario Kart cars that can be rented out along with onesies.

Suddenly, Utahime is hollering at Kento to find the location on his phone, simultaneously giving his collar a playful tug. Ieiri is genuinely pumped as the gang heads over to Street Kart Shibuya — then comes the dilemma of deciding who gets to rock which onesie. And let me tell you, that turned into a full-blown war. Suguru claimed Pikachu, Gojo insisted on Stitch, Mei Mei initially resisted the whole costume thing but eventually caved, opting for a low-key Mario. Ieiri went with the timeless Winnie the Pooh, Utahime snagged Kirby, Kento happily nabbed Luigi (much to Mei Mei's satisfaction), Haibara transformed into Bowser, and you, my friend, embraced your inner Ninja Turtle.

You all cruised through the streets like there was no tomorrow. Surprisingly, Gojo was the picture of safe driving, while Suguru embraced a bit more recklessness, a wild grin on his face as he zoomed by most of the group. Utahime was hot on his heels, having challenged him to a small race.

Meanwhile, Kento kept to the rear with Mei Mei and you, the three of you just chilling. In the meantime, Ieiri and Haibara engaged in a conversation, shouting over the roar of their engines.

Side Note: Gojo had brought a speaker along, handing it to Kento to carry along with Ieiri's iPod. This way, he could blast her favorite tunes as the group navigated the crowded streets of Shibuya. Pedestrians, mostly spirited and slightly tipsy, cheered and danced on the sidewalks, as they listened to the songs.

It's a miracle none of you crashed.

Side Note: Since none of you could really get into the nightclubs, you ended up just standing outside, huddled together, grooving a bit to the music. You chatted among yourselves while Gojo and Haibara grabbed sodas and snacks from the nearest convenience store, bags swinging from their arms as they passed the drinks around.

Add-On: Ieiri managed to snag a cigarette from a tipsy guy loitering outside the club, and you lit it up for her. Suguru nearly lost his shit when he caught you lighting up Ieiri's cigarette; he assumed you smoked too, and he was this close to giving you a smack for it.

By the end of the night, Utahime and Mei Mei hopped on the train back to Kyoto, catching it before they shut down for the night. Unfortunately, despite Kento's repeated reminders, the rest of you forgot. By the time you reached the station, it had already closed. So, everyone had to trek back to Jujutsu High on foot.

As you stroll along, Ieiri sticks close, a smile playing on her lips as she chuckles at something Haibara said, her fingers briefly brushing against yours. For a moment, you savor the warmth of her touch before sliding your hands into your hoodie pockets. You notice a slight dimming in her eyes, prompting you to remedy it by awkwardly resting your head on her shoulder as you all continue walking, muttering something about how Haibara can be pretty dumb.

Side Note: The speaker has run out of battery by now, so Suguru has Ieiri's iPod in his pocket, playing some random song at a low volume. It serves as background music, adding to the vibe of the stroll.

You can't recall how the night wrapped up — one moment, you're relishing the crisp night air while Gojo and Kento go back and forth, the other two idiots snickering in the background. Then suddenly, you find yourself sprawled on your bed, still decked out in the same clothes from the night out, silently gazing up at the blank expanse of your room's white ceiling.

Your eyes fixate on a piece of paper you taped up there ages ago, its gold lettering shimmering in the ambient lighting. A whirlwind of thoughts swirls through your mind, yet none quite break the surface. For a moment, you exist in the fabric of time, quietly tuning in to Suguru's thunderous snores echoing from the next room.

Suddenly, a text pinged on your phone. You knew instantly who the sender was as you groaned in annoyance and frustration. Crawling to your phone, which had been charging on the nightstand just above your head, you squinted your eyes at the brightness of the screen as you read the message.

Gakuganji

Meeting. End of the month.

You almost wanted to throw a fit as a bubble of dread filled your being. Shutting the phone off, you tossed it to the side before flopping back onto your bed. Red-tinged eyes stared up, once again, at the ceiling.

You never knew an object could also have a fuzzy outline

...

Song Inspo: xanny - Billie Eilish

(A/N):

Oct 22 - Is this like a filler episode? Yes, yes it is. I just wanted some fluff and what better way than with a little Birthday special? 🎆

Nov 14 - Ha, nah. Also, I'm currently obsessed with Megan Thee Stallions new song Cobra.

Originally:

This episode was supposed to be more light-hearted, but once I started typing, your character just took on a life of its own.

At first, Gojo was set on being Pikachu and Suguru, Stitch. However, when I considered the vibes and personas of those characters (admittedly, I don't know much about them), I recalled that Stitch was hella sassy, while Pikachu was pretty mellow. So, it just felt right to pair them up with their corresponding characters.

Originally, Suguru was supposed to drive recklessly, offering a glimpse into his deteriorating mental state and potentially hinting at suicidal tendencies. However, I added a playful dynamic between Utahime and him for a lighter touch, though it can still be interpreted differently.

I didn't plan to wrap up this episode the way I did, but it struck me as a fitting method of foreshadowing.

Gojo caught on to your spaced-out moment on the train, his black-tinted glasses shielding the fact from everyone else. But, his eyes were locked onto you the entire time.

It's one of my shorter episodes, yet it delves into the emotional turmoil your character seems to be constantly navigating, even in situations where it shouldn't be the case, like this relatively peaceful episode. It just goes to show that even when everything seems all right, it really isn't.

Kento took into account Ieiri's personality and preferences, which is why he suggested a simple night out in one of the busiest places in Japan.

Contrary to expectations, Gojo didn't go to flirt with pretty girls. In truth, he just wanted to stay with you and Suguru as a way to compensate for all the isolation he felt.

The act of denying yourself the simple touch of Ieiri's hand holds a deeper meaning; it's a symbol of rejecting affection, perceiving it as a potential threat to your own being. It also mirrors your reluctance to allow her into your personal space. Yet, in your attempt to spare her sorrow, you seek alternative paths. However, this action is also symbolic of your manipulative tendencies. On one side, you're indifferent to the possibility of causing her pain, yet on the other, you strive to maintain a facade of camaraderie. It's a double-edged blade, where the latter is the subtler but significant edge.

Usually, when someone puts something on the ceiling, it's often a way to convey that the person attaches some hope or sentiment to the object. It's like they're looking forward to it or, at the very least, it holds strong sentimental value.

The piece of paper taped to the ceiling is a direct reference to a previous episode. Did you ever figure out to whom the card belonged? And why is it taped to the ceiling?

A meeting at the end of the month? What's that about?

Yet, the lingering question persists: What exactly is your relationship with Gakuganji?

...

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Hope you enjoyed!

[br4inr0tx]

headcanons for dating sheriff newlon?

Yes ofc! Since I just watched the movie I have a pretty good grasp on him already, and I’m excited to write for him! I’m from Massachusetts so idk..I kind of resonate with this movie lol.

Tw - MASSIVE THANKSGIVING 2023 MOVIE SPOILERS, manipulation, loss of loved one, cannibalism(?).

Eric Newlon…

• Sheriff Eric Newlon. The good looking, friendly and dependable guy. He loves those who are close to him, and does anything he can to help a person out. He’s honestly, a great guy.

• Though as we all know, he has an intense sense of revenge from a woman he loved very much.

• No matter how you identify he at first would use you as a coping mechanism for Amanda’s death. It might be the smallest thing, like the same name, same laugh, same eyes, same personality..something about you just reminds you of a good time back in his life, and he can’t seem to let it go.

• The guy is manipulative, and it’s easy for him to pull the strings. If you don’t already like him, he can easily make you fall in love and join his side with the snap of his fingers.

• He’s genuinely charming, down-to-earth and caring anyway. Why wouldn’t you want to be with him?

• I’d assume you’d help him get through cases and cope with his loss in return. If he REALLY likes you that might not matter, but if it’s a genuine connection just someone caring about his well being is enough.

• I think Eric would also like someone who’s willing to talk about revenge. He’s bottled his feelings for so long, so someone that is willing to listen to and discuss harsher topics he’d enjoy; mostly for his own comfort

• He showers you in compliments pretty often. Sometimes he even babies you. It’s just a habit he can’t help but indulge in!

• Eric helps through hard times too. Though, watch out if it’s an issue with another person. I can’t guarantee they’ll make it out alive, especially considering how hellbent Eric is on the whole "revenge" gig. (I need a dollar for every time I say revenge.)

• He’s a pretty creative guy as we know. I’m not just talking about kills either. Dates and gifts are very creative and thoughtful, within reason an budget of course. I’d like to think giving gifts is as simple as you’d think either. He’d be the type of boyfriend to hide it in a funny spot or specific area for you to have fun finding.

• So, I’m not sure if this is just an act in the movie to get Jess in his side, but he seems really protective. Not just because he’s a cop either. If anyone talks shit about you he’d be one of the first people to stand up for you even if you don’t need it. Golden Retriever boyfriend mentality.

• Now..considering the more John Carver side of things..

• He wouldn’t kill you, he’d just let you enjoy the show. You’re technically a part of this now.

• Though be weary. Even if he acts nice and does nice things for you, he’s EXTREMELY hostile (pun intended) in his John Carver persona. Don’t do anything funny like escaping if he chases you, he won’t hesitate to hurt you just to put you back in place. Sometimes living with the pain is more harsh then just dying, remember that.

• Even if John Carver is a bit mocking, it’s in no way fake love. He’s simply giving you a happy thanksgiving with a glass of revenge, for the both of you.

• Also, remember how I mentioned he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone that harms you? Well, they’ll be guests at the table on the livestream! Now everyone’s together, on the day of togetherness.

• Overall, you fill in the void he was missing after Amanda’s passing. That’s not to say he doesn’t appreciate you for you, I’m saying that you keep him from going absolutely insane and killing everyone in Plymouth there and then.