#for want of a ticket snippet

[trixierosewrites]

Heads Up, Seven Up

Thanks to @notwritinganyflufftoday for the tag!

Rules: share seven lines, and tag seven people. This is from my (finished) short story, For Want of a Ticket, which is set in the American West!

“I’m tired,” he said, quietly. “Can I—can I sleep, Cassie?” “You can’t stay here. You know that.” She turned away from him, because if he kept looking at her like that, her resolve would falter. “You’ll get caught as soon as the sun rises, and ya can’t ride fast and hard with a wound like that.” “Come with me.” “What?” “Me and the boys,” Oscar said, and swallowed. “We’d be glad to have ya, Miss Cass. I’d be glad to have ya.” “Don’tcha want me to watch the train?” He made a valiant attempt at getting to his feet, and she caught his arm when he wobbled. “That’s just it. We’re movin’ on. Greener pastures. We won’t be needin’ your train anymore, but we still need you.”

No pressure tags: @aromanticsky, @times-of-drought, @raevenlywrites, @vsnotresponding, @seastarblue

@flock-from-the-void, and for no.7 let's call it an open tag because I cannot remember anyone else I think would be okay tagging them oops

[makingqueerhistory]

I feel reasonably certain you're the one to ask, but if not, i hope you can point me in the right direction.

A while back, you put up a quote from someone about realising their queer identity being akin to wanting to quietly change train carriages. That particular idea has stuck with me, and I wanted to find the exact quote so I could remember it properly. Do you know who it was that said it, and in what context?

I know exactly what you are talking about! The quote you're thinking of is:

"I confess that I am one of those passengers that Fate put in the wrong train. Should I have caused an alarm? I chose the second, quieter way: I applied for a rewrite of the ticket.”

Which was said by Zdeněk Koubek, who was an olympic athlete!

Here is a snippet from our article about him:

"Koubek was born December 8, 1913, in Paskov, Czechia (Now the Czech Republic). Growing up with eight siblings in a poor Catholic household, he was an active child and very fond of athletics. His family moved to Brno while Koubek was still a child, and there he became interested in track and field. With very little formal training, he managed to reach peak performance. He had a decent education and considered becoming a clerk, but chose to dedicate himself to sports. Due to his outstanding performance at 17, he moved to Prague and joined the Prague University team, also working part-time as an instructor and coach. In 1932, at the age of 19, he broke his first national record and shortly after set five more. He won two medals in the Women’s World Games in London in 1934 and set two world records. It was at this point, due to his excellent performance and his gender-non-conforming nature, that rumours started circulating. Newspapers pointed out his “masculine” behaviours. Following this, there was an anonymous request for Koubek to be examined by Olympic-sanctioned doctors to ensure he was not lying about his gender. As this happened, Koubek left competitive sports entirely. Around the same time, writer Lída Merlínová wrote a biography about Zdeněk Koubek titled Zdenin světový rekord // Zdena’s world record. Merlínová was known for her writing on queer people, publishing the first Czech book about lesbians. In Zdenin světový rekord, Koubek is written as various degrees of gender non-conforming, androgynous, and masculine, and this book also added to the controversy of Zdenek’s sportsmanship. After disappearing from sports for some time, Koubek resurfaced with The World Record Woman. Published in Prague Illustrated Newsletter, Koubek himself wrote the 20-part biographical series. In it, he spoke of how doctors had mistakenly assigned him female at birth and how this had affected his life for over two decades. He once again disappeared, this time journeying to the United States of America for six months. He held lectures and told his life story. Upon his return to Prague in 1936, he underwent gender affirmation surgery and changed his legal name. He lived the rest of his life in Prague with his wife, later joined his brother’s rugby team, and never returned to the world of competitive sports. He passed away at the age of 73."

Zdeněk Koubek

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Spider and Bats Snippets 2

[0.] [1.]

I headcanon Spider!(Y/N) meets Clark/Superman on accident before Batman does.

Just, imagine. Your heading to a part time job, super excited about it! Get on the bus, and wait... Then fall asleep..

The bus driver kicks you out at the Mertropolis bus station. Not good! You don't have enough for a ticket back to Gotham so you managed to get a part-time job at The Daily Planet, as the coffee runner! Simple enough?

Bumping into a meek Clark Kent, who is shyly thanking you for his cup of joe'. Then you, eagerly wanting a new friend in a strange enviorment, (again), asking about what he's writing.

"Wow Kent, didn't expect you to snag the new girl."

Lois teased light-heartedly. "Oh, ha-ha it's nothing like that. They're a good friend."

He shrugs it off as Lois shakes her head. "Sheesh, a lot of fella's make a LOT of trouble with that word. Good luck Smallsville."

Blinking in confusion, you were suprised she didn't notice you as you walk up beside him. "Huh... Wait, you think were good friends!?" You beam in awe at Clark, happily spinning around his desk chair. "Clark! You should of said something sooner!"

You let go, now thoughtful. "Hmmm, we should do friendship bracelets then.. I mean, I did make one with another friend of mine.. OH! I got an' idea-" "-Guh.. I-I think I.. Need to rain check.."

"Hm? What's wrong? You look dizy... Vomit-y."

I know there's different versions of how Batman met Superman. Personally, I perfer The Animated Series Ver!

I would like to think, Robin and Nightwing asked her to get Superman's autograph as a casual comment if Spider(Y/N) went to Mertropolis.

So during her "stay" at the other city, she'd often patrol and help a bit when she could.

Would totally meet Supes' on acident.

"Wow! Hello! Why is your city so much cleaner? I like your cape! Reminds me of Miguel-!" You try to descalate the situation.

You happily greet him, babbling as your buddy glared at you. You shrug at Batman's gaze, giving him a slight push. Herding him close to your side incase of any... Bad, course of action, between you and the supposed "Man of Steel".

Superman paused at the greeting, after thrown into a wall. He expected more hostily from you as well, since he read most crime-fighters were, due to the Gotham Gazette. Yet you seemed more occupied with keeping the Batman away from HIM.

Using his x-ray vision, he peaked underneath your masks.

"Bruce Wayne..." He mumbled under his breath as Batman shoved you to the side. Glaring at the super-powered male, "You peeked.."

"Hm? He did what?" You weren't paying attention, more focused on the destruction and damage. Frowning worriedly, knowung your "unexpected vaction" would meet it's end.

Superman The Animated Series: Season 1 Ep 16 - World's Finest Part 1

I can see Spider!(Y/N) being pen-pals with lot's of heros and vigilantes. Possibly even anti-heros and villians?

Carefully web-shooting the civillians away, you keep squint as you watch them dance in sync. Slightly envious, before shooting a glance at Batman.

He collapsed as groups of Music Meisters pawns held him down. Grunting as he tried to move away. You used your web to toss them away quickly. Huffing as you glanced down at your comrade.

Even with the ear-plugs, you couldn't help it!

As if spotlight shone on your cue, you sang encouragingly. Smiling underneath your mask, you hold out a hand to him. He grasps it as you slowly pull him up.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ."And you can rise above...!" ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

The Brave and the Bold Season 1 Episode 25 Mayhem of the Music Meister!

We all know that THEE Batman has a certain type.

But this is for fun, so, (。ゝ(ェ)・)-☆

Overall, I stated perviously, it's more a comedic pairing that has many set-ups to be serious.

Watching Catwoman flee once more, you walk to Bat's side. Standing beside him politely, before.. Slowly... Reaching out your hand to his. Holding it firmly with no caution.

The vigilante glares at the action, yet you don't let up as he tries to shake your hand away.

You giggle as you watch your arm swing with his, your laughter becoming louder as he finally gave in.

Batfam relationship depends on if Spider!(Y/N) came before or after the Batfam was formed.

Personally, I perfer it before. I feel like it would show growth in Bat's and Spiders dynamic.

I sorta wanna explore it, but if ya'll got ideas Im open to it.

-

{Yay! Another self-indulg work! Lol. I was inspired once again, I really just love that more people are intrested in the idea than just myself! Horray! Comments, art, reblogs are always wanted! This is purely for fun! If anyone gets the easter egg I put, let me know!}

[exquisink]

don't let all this be a letdown (polysatosugu x reader)

cw. no curses au, breaking up with one of them and then getting back together, there are no warnings really other than suggestive scenarios and teasing of smut but there's no smut this time, gasp!, poly satosugu x reader, they literally come as a package it's an unspoken rule, this is basically fluff so sweet it'll give you diabetes even though it's also lowkey messy btwn mainly you and sugu b/c you felt underappreciated, i am pretty sure i lost the plot somewhere b/c this was supposed to be TOXIC EX BF SUGURU with you getting back at him but it's somehow weirdly wholesome, never mind some things like the two of them cornering you in public spaces b/c personal space is a foreign concept to these men

wc. 11K... and if i choose to tack on the smut later as a bonus snippet/post then it'll be more

Stop this nonsense, that small, sharp, squabbling voice in the back of your mind scolds you. That little voice of reason bubbles up every time you try to set yourself free from the commitments of a relationship you have ended, all on your own accord, giggling too hard at some random guy’s jokes, or allowing them to brush their hands up their waist. Just a bit too close for comfort should Suguru be near, but he isn’t. Right now it’s just you and Satoru Gojo, mingling with each other and pretending like you’re still involved. 

You have tossed away any cautions, any questionings or doubts or asking yourself why anymore. Satoru Gojo may be Suguru’s best friend but he’s yours too, and each little flirtatious glance he tosses your way is just another ticket toward sweet payback. It’s what he gets for not appreciating what he’s had right in front of him. Of course this is all a charade, because Gojo understands more than anyone what bro code means and he’s only doing this as a favor to you, and in a way to Suguru too.

Get him to open his damn eyes. To read it all, soak it completely in, let the realization of what he lost dawn on him, and weep waterfalls upon waterfalls of tears.

Gojo may have gotten a little too into the charade but so have you. Those little late night texts, which he may have sent screenshots to Suguru ‘on accident’ but he definitely wants him to know. Let him simmer and stew in sheer anger over the fact that you’re just over being an afterthought.

Besides, it’s not like you haven’t been anything other than playing the role of the understanding, kind girlfriend. But all he’s ever done is taken your character and your time for granted, and you’re just finally cutting loose after everything you’ve done to try to make that fucking relationship work.

Oh, but it’s like you already said, you may have gotten a little too into this. Soaking up all of this attention Satoru is happy to fabricate for you all in favor of the drama, but also you have been actually actively responding to other suitors who have flooded your phone with messages since you have set yourself free.

That much you can admit to, but who can blame you when your ex’s best friend can be just as petty if not more so than you? Suggesting to send snapshots of your outings together in some of the most suggestive situations. Gojo has been nice enough to go run errands with you and while shopping for clothes, joins you in the dressing rooms for a quick way to set your ex off. Nothing too scandalous–just a snapshot of you two undressed in a few questionable positions but it’s not like you two really did much of anything. You don’t see how, not completely,  because your goal is just to drive that point home–he fucking missed out and now he has to deal with the consequences of missing out on someone like you. After a certain point, you have to put your foot down. You can’t remember at what point when you checked out of the relationship in your mind, because by the time you cut things off, it was too late for him to try to change his ways because you know how it always goes. They change for maybe a few weeks and then revert back to their typical behavior. No one can actually ever change overnight; you definitely didn’t.

Getting into the relationship and basically all throughout the relationship, you have always put your best foot forward for Suguru. Giving him moral support before huge exams. Hearing him out when he’s venting to you instead of spewing solutions. Giving him space when he needs it. Planning dates. Remembering birthdays. Remembering his big events and attending them. Obviously it’s all the basic stuff but they matter. Of course they all matter. And in the beginning, he’s just as supportive, but then maybe he’s gotten too comfortable with a girl like you. 

And that’s his biggest fucking mistake.

“You know,” Gojo comments as he hops back into his slacks and smooths out his hair, scrolling through his text thread with Suguru while waiting for you to get dressed. “There are ways we can amp this up but I don’t know if you’d be game to try it out. Even while you were dating him, you seemed so innocent.”

“Well, obviously, I proved you wrong,” you huff as you straighten yourself out, glancing at yourself in the mirror for a moment before your gaze flits back to Gojo. “It’s not like I’m getting into any of his friends’ pants. I just have to make him think I am.”

“And you’re doing a swell job with that,” he laughs with a wide grin brightening his features. He flashes his phone screen with Geto’s reply, and now you find yourself grinning.

Geto: what the fuck is wrong with you actually

Geto: she hasn’t been responding to any of my calls or messages. So this is what she’s been up to? 

You wish you could see his face, but all you can imagine is him attempting to remain calm and collected, suffering in silence like he always does. You always kind of loathe how he acts like nothing bothered him, and that’s another reason why you broke it off. Besides getting too comfortable and not trying anymore. There’s actually a whole textbook you can write at this point on all of the reasons why you two were better off not together.

Your stomach twists a little at the idea of actually not being with him, but you have to be stronger than your feelings sometimes and you know that all too well since that’s something you had to do far too early in your life. You deserve better, all you’re asking for is some reciprocity for fuck’s sake, and he probably knows that and is threatened by the idea of you actually leveling up your life. And that’s why he’s fighting a time where you doubt you can change your mind.

“So what was your suggestion? About upping the ante, I mean,” you ask as Gojo thinks of a way to respond to Geto’s messages. 

“Well, I mean, I can ring up some of our friends and they can get in on it. It’s not like they don’t like you too, you know. For as much of an idiot Suguru can be, he’s not wrong about people and we all like you.”

You sigh, flashing him your phone screen with a few threads from Toji, Sukuna, and Shoko. Toji keeps spamming your photos with fire emoji comments and Sukuna has sent you not so vanilla messages that you have no idea how to respond to, since you’re not that into the guy, even as a friend. A shiver dances up your spine as you glance at one of the raunchy messages he’s sent you upon the other couple hundred, frowning until your forehead creases and Satoru catches onto your discomfort, sneaking a glance at the thread. Even he grimaces, swiping the thread out of your line of sight. 

You breathe out in relief. Satoru really is a good friend, isn’t he? 

“No kiddin’. I mean, Toji and Sukuna are kind of expected, but Shoko? That’s something I would have never considered because she likes you guys so much,” you reply, but your eyes roll upward as you ponder over the situation you have found yourself in, wondering what to make of it. “Though, she is my type…”

Gojo whistles at that. “Okay, damn. I didn’t expect that from you, either.”

You beam at him with your eyes twinkling like little gemstones, standing on your tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. 

“Thanks, Satoru. You’re a great friend,” you tell him, and he’s grinning wider while dreamily sighing. “To me and to Suguru. He’s lucky, you know? To have someone like you who reminds him what’s important. I just think it might be too late this time, but who knows?”

“I’d really hate to see the two of you not work things out in the end,” he remarks, as another stream of notifications clutters his lock screen from Suguru. “Sheesh. He’s not a happy camper, but it’s one thing to say it and another thing to do something, right?” 

You nod. “Right. Sometimes it feels like that’s all he is.”

“All talk, right?” he replies, sighing as his shoulders sag a bit. “Yeah, I get that. I really do. He’s a bit too wrapped up in his own bullshit sometimes to understand what’s going on around him. And sometimes, the best thing you can do in these situations is just let ‘im figure things out for himself. I mean, you can’t force someone to change, right?”

“Yeah,” you reply, glancing at the time on your phone. “Should we get out of here? I think the store’s closing up in like an hour.”

“Sure. But you should still get that dress. With legs like yours, you’d kill it,” Gojo suggests, swiping the dress for you. “And it’s on me, as a token of apology for dealing with someone as dense as Suguru.”

“My hero,” you tease, exiting the fitting room with Gojo following suit. He catches onto the little skip in your step and there’s a hint of a small smile. That’s the happiest you’ve been since you broke it off with him. He can’t help shaking his head to himself before paying for your dress and leaving the store with you. Now you’re practically frolicking like you’re in a fairy world. Glow any brighter and maybe you can hear a choir of angels singing. 

Suguru is an even bigger idiot than he is, and that’s saying something. 

Geto does confront Gojo later. 

Shoving him into the wall after showing up at his penthouse (unprompted but that’s essentially routine for them at this point), indigo eyes practically oozing rage and gritting his teeth like he may pummel him six feet under. Gojo knows he’s not going to, of course, out of everyone Geto knows Gojo’s still the one he can’t say no to who isn’t his girlfriend, but Gojo digresses. 

“What the fuck, Satoru?” he growls, and Gojo merely picks at his cuticles, avoiding his eyes. Geto knows Gojo is stronger than he is but he lets him get his way. Sometimes. Sometimes. “Why are you fooling around with my girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend,” he corrects, pushing him off with slight force, catching Geto off guard for a moment but he bounces back, shooting a death glare as Gojo goes on. “And she’s been your ex longer than when she finally dumped your crusty ass.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Geto mumbles, “And my ass isn’t crusty.”

“She’s been over you for months before she broke up with you,” Gojo explains, “What, you really haven’t noticed her distancing herself?”

“Of course I have,” Geto shoots back, his posture relaxing. “I just didn’t think it’d get to this point.”

“Aha! And you admit it, you don’t think! That’s your problem,” Gojo counters, matching his glare now. “Just because you get the girl doesn’t mean you don’t stop trying. You have to show up for her, you know, like she’s always been.”

Something flashes in Geto’s eyes. Realization, perhaps? Or regret? 

No, maybe Gojo’s giving him too much credit there. 

“Suguru,” he starts, taking a step forward. “You can’t just stop trying. She never did until the last few months.”

“Well, what the hell do I do? She’s not responding to any of my messages or calls,” he shouts back, “Do I just show up at her doorstep or…what?”

“You’re going to have to go a little beyond that to make up for all of the things you missed,” Gojo shouts back, “And disregard anything performative. She can sniff you out like a drug hound, so don’t bother.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, you know!” Geto retaliates, folding his arms as he tries to collect himself. Rounded grounding breaths and whatever else. Gojo has no idea how that’s supposed to keep him centered, but what the hell does he know about mindfulness anyway? He’s just as clueless as Geto is in that regard, if not more so. 

Gojo sighs, exasperated, just seconds away from punching the lights out of him. Yeah, mindfulness and whatever, but he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about that stuff when both of his best friends are being fucking idiots.

And if that’s coming from the likes of him? Well, clearly there’s an issue. He’s not even saying this to be self-deprecating or whatever; he’s not that kind of guy and everyone who knows him knows that a little too well, but this whole charade is just appalling. 

Gojo wants to see both his friends happy again, but they have to motherfriggin’ cooperate.

“I am, but I’m not going to solve your BS for you!” Gojo shouts back after a beat of tense silence. The air suddenly feels staticky and stiff, and he wonders if his judgment is clouded concerning this whole ordeal.

“Yet you’re fooling around with her to what, piss me off?!” Geto questions, pinching the bridge of nis nose as he struggles to control his emotions. He is many things, but violent he isn’t, and Geto doesn’t want anything to escalate around here for absolutely absurd reasons.

“Well yeah,” he scoffs, glowering at him like somehow he’s lost more brain cells. “She wants to have fun a little, and wanted to have fun with just me this time around. You can’t fault her for wanting a piece of this.”

“You’re part of the package when we are together, Satoru,” Geto grumbles. 

“It’s almost like I’m well aware of that, Suguru.”

Geto’s eyebrows furrow; that tone Satoru tacks on is… curious. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Geto quizzes, wary. Like he shouldn’t hope for more, but if Gojo is on his side like he claims he is…

“I don’t know, man. Figure it out, or do you truly have no brain and that noggin of yours is just hollow?” Gojo mocks while playfully knocking the crown of Geto’s head. Geto swats his hand away, appalled. 

“I just fail to see what you hoped to achieve, fooling around with her without me present,” he says, “I can’t imagine the kind of trouble she’s getting herself in just to cut loose. Has she done this with anyone else?”

Gojo shakes his head. “Not as far as I know. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she wants you to reach out.”

“You say that and yet she leaves me on delivered,” he mutters, more to himself as he whips out his phone and opens your shared thread. 

“Well, like I said, you have to go a little harder than what you have been doing. Spamming her is so three decades ago. But it’s also like I said, don’t do anything too out there or performative because she definitely won’t buy it.”

“Sometimes I don’t know whether to punch you or kiss you,” Geto mumbles, “And you swear she hasn’t fooled around with anyone else? It’s just been you? Which doesn’t bother me for obvious reasons…”

“Of course not, I still have my rights to her!” Gojo laughs, “But in all seriousness, you should act or something before things really begin to escalate. She’s already deleted some photos off of her phone and has warred with herself about straight up blocking you, so…”

“You’re telling me this now?” Geto rubs his temples as a headache comes on from all of this unproductiveness between the two of them. “Since you clearly want me to make amends, what do you suggest should be my first move?” 

Gojo whacks his shoulder. “I told you countless times in this one conversation alone: I can’t do the work for you. This is something you have to figure out for yourself. I’m just here to support you, whatever it is you decide to do, alright? That’s what friends are for… even friends with certain additional benefits.”

Gojo winks at him, with that fucking look on his face that he always sports when he has something up his sleeve and Geto can’t even decipher it himself. 

Geto scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“So nothing performative, nothing over the top… that doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for anything too creative if you ask me,” Geto muses out loud as he racks his mind for some kind of solution because this has gone on long enough for his tastes. He wants you back. He wants you, period. The idea of any other man touching you is completely out of the question; just entertaining the idea has Geto seeing pure firetruck red, clenching his fists at his sides as the impulse to punch something out wash over him. He’s not violent. Not really. He doesn’t want to resort to violence. Not even if it can be argued it’s warranted, like if another man touched you in ways you weren’t okay with, for instance… 

Oh no. No no. Get those images out of his head NOW! That’s just adding fuel to the fire unnecessarily! 

Gojo rests his hands on Geto’s shoulders, and all of the tension suddenly melts away. Gojo, as infuriating as he often is, has a way of being his calm, tranquility, and peace, too… you know, It’s actually quite perplexing, but that is the beauty of love, isn’t it? In all its nuances and complexities and mysteries.

“Come on, you’re doing so well. You’re just a whirlwind of emotions in just nanoseconds,” Gojo teases with a grin playing on his features. Somehow even in these moments, Gojo seems to glow, radiant, snow white hair shimmering and those electric blue eyes boring into the very essence of Geto’s being. 

Geto kind of hates how much he loves this guy too.

But it’s also the most thrilling thing in the world, simultaneously.

“Okay, okay but can we stop dicking around and figure this out?” Geto sighs, “The more we stall, the further away she is from me. And I don’t like that I let it get this far already. I mean, for fuck’s sake… she can’t be having that much fun without me.”

Gojo flashes back to the way you had a little skip to your step finally having a chance to fool around and be a little silly for the sake of it besides just proving a point. As much as he wants to tell Geto a harmless little white lie, he’s not known to sugarcoat things… 

“Eh… well, actually… this is the most relaxed she’s ever felt in a long time. So you really have to act fast, buddy!”

Geto’s eyes widen, perplexity shining in them as he grumbles out loud once again in sheer annoyance at Gojo’s ‘impeccable’ timing. “And again, you’re telling me this now?” 

“Sorry, Suguru,” he quips with a shrug. “I can’t exactly go against either of you in this scenario. I can’t offer any bias toward either of you and as much as I love you both, I’m trying to stay objective here. This is something you have to settle between the two of you, and I”m just here to be of any kind of assistance. Anywhere feasible, I mean.”

“Duly noted,” Geto snarks back, as his mind wanders, swimming through a sea of clashing thoughts and ideas that don’t seem all that fitting for what he hopes to achieve, and that’s you back into his arms, safe and sound, loved and cherished and spoiled, something he should have still been doing even months and months into the relationship and he can’t believe he’s been so blind to see you haven’t been all that happy with him for that long. Come to think of it… 

“Suguru, what do you think of this dress for our anniversary date?” you ask as you twirl around in a flattering LBD, with a sultry, darker makeup look. Geto barely looks up from the papers he’s too busy scribbling on to acknowledge it or appreciate the view. Even if he does see her every damn day, he should still take a moment to show he appreciates the effort she puts into everything with them. 

“You always look lovely, pretty girl, but I’m in the middle of something…” 

He can’t believe he missed the way your voice cracks, or your wistful expression. “Okay…”

Geto’s gaze flits down at his hands, these negligent hands which have failed to grab you by the waist and pull you in for affectionate kisses while he’s doting on you about how good you look in that dress. He’s wincing at his own negligent behavior… how has he been that blind? He knows that’s not the only incident, either; more and more recent memories flash before his eyes and he clenches both fists, groaning at his own idiocy.

“Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m actually the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends.”

“Actually I can argue you’re a step up from the majority of men but you’re still right,” Gojo wisecracks. 

Geto glowers at him but he just grins back; he keeps grinning like that and it’s going to be permanent.

Oh wait. Too late.

“Sooo, now that you actually acknowledge how much of a piece of shit you truly are, how are you going to change it? Or at least begin to? Because once you start, you can’t stop. You can’t let things go again like you did the first time. Your shot at a second chance with her is already slipping from your grimy fingers so hurry the fuck up and think of something.”

“Satoru, I swear to God if you don’t shut up so I can hear myself fucking think, I’ll shut you up myself.”

“How? With your lips? Because that’s not the productive route we’re aiming for right now, though under any other circumstances, I’d have not hesitated to take you up on that offer–!”

Suguru bites back a groan.

“--Satoru, are you absolutely shitting me right now!?--” 

“--hey, I’m just saying sometimes talking your head off can help you come up with ideas  on the spot so I’m just trying to get your creative juices flowing here!–” 

“--by annoying me half to death in the classic Satoru Gojo fashion?–” 

“--Exactly! So did you come up with anything yet?” 

Geto scowls, but a lightbulb does click on in his head as actually, by some amazing miracle, Satoru annoying him to death does help him think of some viable solution to the mess he’s created for him and the girl he’s so madly in love with but didn’t express such emotions well enough, Because he may as well be so emotionally constipated you’d need to shove a stick up his ass to get him to squeal! 

“Satoru, does anyone ever tell you that you’re actually a genius, never mind the image you often set yourself up as?”

“Not routinely,” Gojo admits, his voice trailing off. “But it’s a refreshing change of pace to hear that every once in a while. So, what’s brewing in that puny noggin of yours?” 

“That I’ll keep to myself,” Geto remarks, his eyes flitting to Gojo’s phone stuffed in his back pocket, buzzing with notifications. “But I can assure you it’s… a start, which is better than what I had before.”

“Ah, so you are catching on,” Gojo replies with a nod as he whips out his phone, typing away at a message thread with you. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I promised her I was going to meet up with her as a plus one at some party her roommates are dragging her to.”

“That’s usually my job,” Geto points out, shooting Gojo another glare but to that Gojo raises his hands in defense. 

“Yeah, well, you can easily get that position back, if you just act now. So get dressed and go there with me. If she sees you with me then she’ll have no choice but to confront you.”

“Dressing up to the nines is certain to sweeten up the deal, don’t you think?” Geto murmurs while pondering over what could make you fold immediately as soon as you see him again since the breakup. He’s still not convinced you want to completely move on if you’re still messing around with Satoru, so that must mean there really is hope that things can still work out between the two of you, right? 

…Right? 

“Don’t ask me, you figure it out!” Gojo retorts with a huff. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to freshen up for a lovely girl waiting for me that you so stupidly let go!”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Geto exclaims and Gojo mock sympathetically pats him on the shoulder again.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Gojo dismisses, making an incessant yapping gesture with his free hand. “Thank goodness I'm not in my designer clothes or you would have owed me thousands right now.”

Geto’s jaw hangs open. “I’m in a crisis right now and that’s what you’re more worried about, wrinkles on designer clothes? God, that really is some nepo baby shit…”

“No, nepo baby shit is worrying about someone suing you for a car wreck just to scam you out of some money. This is just wanting to look fresh and clean, man!”

“Whatever, fucking nepo baby,” Geto counters with a little smirk playing on his lips now, which means at the very least, he’s feeling something other than mental turmoil at the idea of you slipping away from him.

Gojo straightens his posture, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You love me anyway.”

As per Gojo’s request, Geto doesn’t pick you up with him. Not unless he wants to be stuck in the car the entire time there, avoiding looking each other in the eyes, talking over the other because they don’t want to discuss anything around Satoru and not being involved in conversations involving the other. Gojo knows better than to put either of you on the spot like that; he has more class than he ever cares to let on (because he’d much rather be a show off and not let people know he has much depth to him at all). 

Still, though. It’s not exactly becoming of a man like Geto who’s sitting somewhere at some secluded corner of the bar, dressed in a sapphire button up and black slacks, his black gauges accompanied with other piercings (some of which he’s still borrowing from your collection of diamond studs, just to sweeten the deal a little more). He’s set his obnoxiously thick hair free, cascading around his sharp face, accentuating his unique features. He’s definitely attracted potential rebounds but he’s not interested in rebounds. He’s only interested in winning you over again, whatever it takes. And he really means whatever it takes, because here he is, reapplying the cologne you love on him the most, hiding the necklace you’ve given him earlier on in your relationship beneath his skin tight v-neck top that usually gets you going because it still leaves just enough room for the imagination (as if you don’t already know and adore what’s underneath)… 

This is just the bare bones of how far he’s willing to go just to drive the point home: he’s not going to lose you over the fact that he’s just a fucking idiot. Sometimes he doesn’t realize what’s in front of him. Good God, how long has it taken him to realize he’s fallen so hard in love with Satoru that he practically smacked his head onto the pavement when it dawned on him? 

It’s not your fault he’s so fucking dense. He’s just as slow as Satoru, sometimes if not worse than he is when it comes to acknowledging anything because of how one-track minded he can be, and he’s willing to admit that to himself but never out loud. He and Satoru are far too alike than they ever even realize.

He breathes out through his nose, burying his head into his hands as he bounces his leg against his stool, waiting for the next course of action in whatever Satoru has planned with you tonight other than just being your plus one.

He has caught onto some of your roommates conversing with one another and trying to pick up some men who are too engrossed in some sports game on the televisions hanging above the bar, but he doesn’t bother going out of his way to exchange pleasantries. If any of them acknowledge him first, he does flash them a smile, at the very least, because even if he’s not that kind of guy he’s not going to be outright rude. If he’s going to win you back, he may as well try to win your friends over too. Their approval matters just as much as yours… he understands all too well how much what your circle of friends believe may influence your own and that’s precisely why he keeps his so small. (Aside from the fact that he is a firm believer in quality over quantity…)

His phone dings. A text.

Satoru: we’re going to be there in like 10 minutes or so, how’re you holding up?

Geto: that’s up for debate

Satoru: always so cryptic and ominous… you might as well be a member of the addams family 

Geto: don’t text and drive

Satoru: awwwww someone’s worried about me ;) 

Geto: satoru i WILL punch the lights out of you when you get here.

Satoru: you’re going to punch your face with my face? :D

Geto, having no way to respond to that, sets his phone down and signals the bartender for something stronger than a Screwdriver. Whatever they make him, it’s all going to be on Gojo’s tab anyway. He’s going to need that liquid courage for what he’s about to do tonight just for the sake of a girl. 

But you’re not just any girl–you may as well be the love of his fucking life and he doesn’t use such language lightly. 

No matter what, he’s winning you back. It is an inevitability in his life that you belong in it, and he knows better than to make the same mistake twice. What is it that they say? One time is a mistake. Twice is a conscious decision. Any more than twice, then there’s no chance of things ever being the same again and that’s the last thing he ever wants for someone like you, who is one in a billion, in his eyes.

But it’s one thing to say it and another thing to show it. And that’s where he fucked up.

He won’t ever again.

And as if the universe wants to toy with his feelings just a little more, someone shouting your name catches his attention and he twirls around on the bar stool he’s sitting on, jaw agape as he watches you strut into the bar with the sexiest LBD… is that the very LBD he’s ignored you putting on for him with that slit showing off your gorgeous legs? With that subtle shimmer and you’re even sporting that darker, sultry makeup look that’s excellent for a night out where you want to forget the fact that you’ve just called it off with your deadbeat boyfriend.

And he REFUSES to be the deadbeat boyfriend. Glancing at the drink the bartender so generously mixed for him, he dismisses it, adjusting his suit and tie as he hoists himself up from his seat and strides over toward you and Gojo who is lagging just behind you as your plus one like he promised with a kind of confidence and swagger he’s always been known to carry. Because for fuck’s sake, Gojo’s his best friend and maybe some of his behaviors have rubbed off on him a little.  

The worst part is throughout the entire time he’s spent building the courage to do something about what’s become of the two of you, you haven’t even spared him a glance. From the moment you enter, you are soaking up the attention you get from your friends, some he doesn’t know, and your mutual friends, practically glowing so bright it might rival the full moon tonight. You have never looked happier, more at peace, and it’s because you kicked him out of your life. 

His eyes bulge out of his sockets when he watches you saunter up to Ryomen Sukuna, of all the people in the world you are choosing to talk to, with a little flounce to those luscious hips of yours Geto is dying to sink his fingertips into while kissing you like he never wants to let you out of his grasp again… and he genuinely doesn’t, he understands his mistakes now, he wants to change himself, change for you, as long as he can make you happy and no one else. 

Call him selfish, but the only person he’s ever going to allow sharing you is with Satoru Gojo. He’s never had an issue with sharing anything with his best friend and that includes you, but with Sukuna? That prick with that hard stare that looks like he’s undressing you with his eyes every second he gets and this time, for some reason, you aren’t quivering and are instead leaning into it? Do you know he’s standing there, completely dumbfounded as your hand slides up Sukuna’s chest, your shoulders shaking as you laugh at one of his super unfunny and probably downright creepy jokes? Haven’t you told him on several occasions Ryomen Sukuna does nothing but give you the fucking creeps? And not only that, but even Toji Fushiguro has shown up to your side, greeting you with a bear hug that you don’t shy away from for reasons that are utterly lost to him. He’s drinking in the sight and hating every flavor he’s being introduced to and he doesn’t know what to do to cease all of this nonsense. He has to make a move though and fucking sooner than too late.

He inhales sharply, adjusting his posture and continues to weave through all of these sweaty dancers who are holding their drinks up in the air while singing along to some cheesy pop song but none of that is even important to him right now. His eye is on his prize but your eyes are on everyone else but him.

He stops as someone zooms past him, almost wanting to cuss the person out but he decides that’s a battle not worth fighting because he’s only focused on you and how you seem to be so keen on feeling up Toji’s pecs now! God! Doesn’t that guy ever skip a workout? It might do everyone around him a lot of favors–like having a shot at winning their beautiful girlfriend back! 

He stops, wetting his fingers and smoothing back his slick back bun of any flyaways before rubbing that hand on his slacks and using his dry hand to rest his hand on your back. He tries to put on that picture perfect smile but he can feel himself seething so much behind this smile of his that his teeth may crack from the pressure. 

And then he catches it: the way your shoulders lock up, the way your eyes dull ever so slightly under the cycling LED disco lights flashing everywhere around the bar. Toji gives him a look but says nothing; he and Sukuna know what type of person not to cross and Suguru Geto definitely isn’t one of those people they should mess with at all. 

You finally whip around, and his breath catches as he takes in your ethereal beauty, unmatched, no one in the world other than him can properly make it known just how much of a beauty you are to him. And he’s never going to make you feel anything other than beautiful and wanted. 

He’s never going to let you slip from his grasp ever again.

This is the moment of truth.

“Hey,” he greets with a low purr, as his fingers spread across your back. You shiver under his touch. Ah. He still has an effect on you whether you choose to acknowledge it out loud or to yourself or not; that’s reassurance in a way. That means there is still a chance for the two of you to live a happily ever after together, frolicking in the sunset as the credits begin to roll in the film or whatever it is people these days find to be the pinnacle of romance.

“Um,” you blink, eyes flitting from one area to another–perhaps in search of Gojo? “Hi.”

“Stop giving me the cold shoulder, pretty girl,” he drawls with that classic smoldering look on his face which may as well rival James Dean himself, as he draws you closer into his body. He’s impressed you don’t openly protest–perhaps your conviction in the breakup isn’t as strong as you made him believe it is? Or is he just clinging onto false hope? Either way, he’s good with either option because there’s something he can shape and mold from it. “Why don’t you let me dance with you?” 

“Because you’re not my date tonight,” you retort while sticking your nose in the air. “Satoru is.”

And speak of the fucking devil, he slides into the scene with a club soda in his hand because he’s not much of a drinker, casting Geto a look as if he hasn’t been plotting with him about winning you back just hours before all of this.

“Yeah, and I don’t exactly appreciate you trying to hog her attention, Suguru~” Gojo chides as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you toward him, or attempts to, anyway. Because Suguru’s grip isn’t budging. Not one bit. Even if Suguru has no problem sharing with Satoru, the whole point is that they share you. That’s the agreement. That’s the arrangement. He cannot let you go; he’s been dragged to the water and now he’s going to fucking take a sip.

“Fuck off, Satoru. For once,” he sneers, keeping his grip secure around your waist like you’re some consolation prize and he has a feeling this isn’t helping his case at all but what the hell else can he do right now if he wants to get you alone to talk? “I need to exchange a few words with her if you don’t fucking mind. YOu can have your fix of her later, but you remember what the rules are, don’t you?” 

“Rules schmules,” Gojo quips, pecking your ear and making you giggle, which makes Geto’s blood sizzle beneath his skin. Gojo really is trying to stir the pot just because he has such a fucking appetite for the drama and not because he actually wants to help him out, huh? “All I can say is you snooze, you lose, Suguru, and I can’t believe you slept on a beauty like this lovely lady who I get to spoil all night. Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” 

That look of disgust immediately melds into one of adoration when you look at Gojo and Geto’s heart sinks into his stomach at the mere sight of you like this. That look should be toward him, not just with Gojo. 

His grip tightens around your waist and you yelp a bit from the sudden pressure of Geto’s fingertips digging into the areas of your dress which expose your skin. His breath fans against the crook of your neck, and suddenly you’re covered in goosebumps. This position they put you in is definitely … 

“Ummm…” you trail off, your face flustered as you try to wiggle between the two men who are acting more like grade schoolers on a playground right now… which is 100% your fault. You put yourself into this mess all because you wanted to feel more seen and this is not exactly what you had in mind… “Guys, don’t I get a say in this? You know I adore the both of you–!”

“--then why did you break up with me? You know by extension, that means breaking up with Satoru too, right?” Geto challenges, yanking you closer toward him but Gojo doesn’t lose his grip on you either, stopping him and now the two of them are closing in on you to the point where you can feel their pelvises grind on either side of your hips.

Oh for fuck’s sake… 

Gojo’s breath fans against your face; your eyes fall to his face before flitting up to meet his electric blue eyes which are full of heat like blue stars. 

“Did you know he was going to show up tonight and you conveniently left out that little detail, Satoru?” you ask in a demanding tone, and Gojo returns with a noncommittal hum while Geto doesn’t waste his time, feathering his lips along the crook of your neck like he’s reclaiming his territory.

“We’re in the middle of a fucking bar,” you point out with a growl and both men laugh. 

“Come on, Princess, have a sense of adventure,” Gojo chuckles with a little twinkle in his eyes which can only mean trouble is brewing in that noggin of his. “Besides, we both really miss you, you know.”

“And just whose side are you on!?” you cry, exasperated as Gojo mirrors Geto’s movements, peppering kisses on the opposite side of your neck.

“Ours, by that I mean all three of us,” Gojo mumbles into your skin. “I want us to work out.”

“Ugh,” you groan, smacking your head. “This isn’t the most appropriate way to go about it when I just wanted a carefree night.”

“A carefree night when you look this good and I can’t be the one to sing praises to you like I’m part of a church choir?” Geto snarks as he bites onto your shoulder, making you jolt in place but they keep you secure. Arms snaking around your waist like chains. They’re not tugging and pulling you toward their direction and instead opting to share like they always do. 

“And did you really think, even if you broke up with me and ended up going out with Satoru, it meant you lost me? We come together whether you expect it or not.”

“In more ways than one,” Gojo adds with a playful wink, but Geto shoots him a glare. 

“While I appreciate the comedic timing, this isn’t the time, Satoru. Can you give us some time so we can talk about this for real? Go annoy Shoko or something. Or kick Toji in the dick for getting too close to her.”

“Toji would never have a shot with her and you know it,” Gojo replies easily and you can’t help but nod in agreement.

“I’m not attracted to bums,” you state, your stare boring into Suguru’s. “Clearly.” 

Fucking ouch. You don’t need to read him to filth like this but Geto knows he definitely is deserving of all that and probably more and he’s just being let off a little easy with a few blows to his ego…

But he’s willing to swallow that along with his pride right fucking now! 

“Baby,” he purrs, “I’m only here to take back what clearly belongs to me.”

“I’m not an object,” you sneer while narrowing your eyes into slits at him. The corners of his mouth twitch. So that game isn’t going to work on you either, huh? You’ve always been a tough nut to crack and that’s what he admires so much about you, and clearly he’s making an insult of that trait of yours now so he may as well backtrack and come up with an alternate plan on the spot! 

His eyes roll up to meet Gojo’s, which are still occupied on you (and who can blame him? You’re a shining star amidst all of these duller ones). 

“But seriously, Satoru,” Geto begins, as his hands slide slowly down your hips. You stiffen in their shared hold over you. “If you still want access to her you have to be fighting for her back with me, don’t you?” 

“I mean,” Gojo retorts with his voice going up an octave. “I see your point and I raise you: I can’t fight all of your battles. You’re on your own here. I wasn’t the one who was neglecting her!”

Geto glances at you, then back at Gojo, and then at Gojo’s hands still around your hips, tangled with his. Something hitches in his throat. This is not the most ideal situation to put you in, he can see you attempting to wriggle your way out but with both him and Gojo keeping you in place that doesn’t make it easy for you at all. 

“So will you let me take this elsewhere with her?” He meets your eyes. “Are you willing to hear me out?” 

You mirror his actions before turning over to Gojo, nodding at him and with a little scowl (which you quickly remedy with a smooch on the corner of his lips), he separates from the two of you. 

“Go kiss and make up with each other and hurry back. In the meantime, cheap bar food is waiting for me and I think I’m going to go annoy Shoko to death–”

“--I already pity her,” Geto snarks while scooping you into his arms practically and some brave soul whistles at his action while he whisks you away. 

To the fucking restrooms. How fucking glamorous and romantic. Holy shit, is that some dried piss on one of the stall doors? Gross! 

You glance around, fluffing your hair as you catch your reflection in the mirror. Geto peers at all the stalls ensuring there’s no one there to listen in (not that it matters, this should end as soon as it begins). If he thinks he’s going to get any just because he’s making an effort now then he’s got another think coming.

As well as more blows to that swollen, oversized pride of his.

Tapping your foot against the cold tiles in an impatient kind of rhythm, you wait for him to break the ice. You think you have done enough talking yourself, and you are a woman of your word, about hearing him out. See where that leads him. Maybe a black eye? A kick to the groin? That’s still letting him off easy because for fuck’s sake, you know how much you’re worth, and it’s not whatever he’s been giving you, for fucking sure. 

Chewing on his bottom lip, he wrings his hands together as he meets your eyes. Those beautiful glittering eyes of yours that may only rival Satoru’s. Your eyes and your heart are like an atlas in his world. Such a cliche line but it’s true. 

He addresses your name. You quirk an eyebrow, beckoning him to get a move on with this before you decide to walk out instead.

“Listen, I…” he starts, racking his mind for some form of a coherent argument as to why he hasn’t been as attentive as a partner as he should have been all of this time. “I don’t have an excuse, okay? You have every right to be upset with me, but what was with all of that before?” 

“Shifting the blame onto me? Is that where we’re starting with this?” you shoot back with another narrowing of your eyes. Oh he’s never felt more judged in his life but he deserves every bit of it. 

He takes a grounding breath. Here he goes again fucking up everything even more. Dragging his hand down his face, pulling down on his lower lip, he is still pondering over his words. If he’s not careful he’s going to dig himself into a six foot deep hole for you to kick him into and bury him alive. And maybe he’s not going to protest, because he almost would rather that than you moving on from him.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Geto finally says after a beat of silence. He takes a step forward toward you. “I’m not trying to be difficult. I get it–I was inattentive. I know I was. I wasn’t making you feel seen or appreciated and I’m in pain just thinking about how much I neglected you without realizing it before it was too late. This can’t be the point of no return for us if I’m trying to reach out, right? I’m not asking you to give me any credit because I don’t need you to. What I want is for things to be better between you and me, and you know I’ll do everything to make that happen.” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose, biting back a groan. “Suguru, I’ve said it a million times: it’s one thing to say it and another thing to act on it. Love by itself isn’t enough, you know. It’s a choice. You have to make it work. Otherwise there’s no spark here.”

“Don’t say that,” Geto protests, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I want things to work.”

“Trapping me in the middle of a bar and pinning me against you and your best friend isn’t exactly the best way to go about it! I felt completely objectified!” you counter, jabbing your finger into his chest. “Sometimes I just don’t know who the hell you and Satoru think you are! Like what, you think I’m your property, or something? You have rights to everything about me as if I’m not my own goddamn person?”

“Of course not!” Geto retorts, appalled that you would even consider such distasteful things about him among all of the other distasteful things you have accused him of since you broke up with him. “Of course you’re your own damn person! Satoru and I got a little ahead of ourselves, sure, but only because we find you irresistible and perfect. Goddamn it, I”m sorry I wasn’t attentive enough, but you have no idea how much I adore you and need you with me. I love the way your eyes sparkle whenever you talk about something that happened on your favorite drama series or how engrossed you get when you’re in the middle of something that means something to you. I love that when your favorite song plays you have to act as if you’re in a music video or a play with that song and you drag me along to do your silly little skits. I love that you call people out on their bullshit and don’t pull your damn punches when you do. I love–!”

–your eyes soften as your voice drops to a whisper. “Suguru…”

“--I’m not finished, dammit. I love that I spend most of my days knowing I can come home to you. I get through my days knowing that you’re who I get to come home to and I fucked that up. I fucked that up royally and I get it, words are cheap and actions are louder. But goddammit, if it’ll take me until my dying breath to get a smile on that stupidly gorgeous face of yours, then I mean it when I say that I will do everything to make that happen.”

You’re rendered a speechless, blundering mess, face flushed a deep yet flattering shade of red for your complexion. Maybe you have taken this a few steps too far yourself, but all you wanted was to be seen and you suppose you are after all.

If you don’t know any better steam might be blowing out of your ears out of sheer embarrassment over how far you’ve blown this entire thing out of proportion. Now you’re the one feeling like a total ninny, certain your body is going to melt into a puddle of goop because there’s a part of you that can’t resist Suguru Geto like some shriveling school girl who keeps tripping over herself. 

Suguru calls your name again, gets your attention. Ugh you hate that his voice pulls you in even when you’re frustrated as fuck with him and with yourself. 

“S-sorry, that was just, um, a lot to take in at once,” you stutter, trying to compose yourself and find some kind of footing again in this conversation. Aren’t you supposed to be having a screaming match with each other? Instead he’s going on listing off all the things he loved about you which means yes while he has been negligent he still has paid attention to you. 

“Take your time,” Geto tells you, which makes your heart sink to your stomach this time. He’s always so goddamn patient with you, even when you don’t deserve his grace! “I’m not going anywhere. Not any time soon.”

He glides closer to you, cupping your face. You sniffle a little, feeling far more than just a little silly for everything that’s happened all because you let your feelings get the better of you. It’s human to err, but this is a royal fuck up on your part, too.

So you begin to apologize. 

“I–!” 

–yet he silences you with a tender kiss, which that action alone speaks for itself, speaks louder than any words he’s going to pull right out of his ass but you still feel like you need to address your own shortcomings… 

He pulls away for a moment, staring down into your eyes with that soft look he reserves only for you or Satoru. It’s maddening how easily he forgives you compared to how easily you forgive him. His thumbs stroke your cheeks and your mouth is suddenly void of moisture. 

No words left in you right then, either. So if you’re going to get onto him about not acting, you may as well follow up on your side of the argument. Grabbing a fistful of his fancy dress shirt (he’s not vain like Satoru), and pulling him in for another desperate kiss.

Soon you find your back hitting the edge of the sinks behind you, and Geto takes the liberty of hoisting you up by your bottom and helping you perch on there while he deepens the kiss, humming in approval. He doesn’t seem all that angry with you… but somehow you find that maddening because he should show more emotion sometimes!  He is always so… reserved and collected like nothing touches him when you know for a fact that isn’t true. He thinks he’s above feeling anything other than completely alright with the status quo which is another thing you have to address but one day at a time.

You find yourself swinging your legs while wrapping your arms around his neck, nipping onto his lips and playfully pulling on his bottom lip. He stares down at you with that trademark wolfish grin on him that makes him so unbelievably irresistible in that moment. You’re about to lean in for another kiss, but then the door swings open with Gojo holding a few plates of food and the background noise of some of the bar music seeming kind of distant where you are. 

“Did you two make up and fuck yet? Ohoho, I guess I checked in on you two right on time before someone else waltzed in here!” Gojo laughs, “Seriously guys, as brilliant as it is that you’ve made some progress here I don’t think it’s sanitary to fuck in a public restroom. We should save that for after we stuff our holes and then stuff someone’s gorgeous holes later.”

”Satoru!” Geto yells at him, exasperated and unimpressed. You can’t help but cackle, never mind how crass Gojo is (that’s basically ingrained in his DNA).

You sneak a kiss while Geto’s caught up in reprimanding Gojo on the corner of his lips, and Geto gasps while he glances at you, this time his face flushing a beautiful crimson and that’s not the only place that’s going to be red later if you have anything to say about it.

”We can talk more about this later,” you tell him, “This might not have been your greatest plan but thank you for reminding me of something important.”

”Oh? What’s that?”

”That you and Satoru really do see me,” you answer as your lips quirk into a small grin. Geto’s heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest, and he rests his hand over it to ground himself. 

“I never meant to make you feel anything less than.”

”Huh? Less than what?” you beckon, tilting your head.

“That’s it. Less than. Less than what you’re worth, which is everything.”

Ugh. 

“You’re going to make me lose all feelings in my legs,” you mutter, but you’re not angry, just frustrated because how can someone be so poetic without meaning to be? 

Geto grins wide, so wide it eerily resembles Gojo’s when he is scheming something.

”Not yet,” he promises.

You smack your head as you follow him out sometime after Gojo leaves. 

Oh no… now he even has a little skip to his step as he takes your hand in his, leading you toward one of the more spacious areas in the bar. Your roommates acknowledge you and one of them is pumping her fist, cheering for you, and you try not to read too much into it but you’re glad you have a good circle of folks around you. One of your roommates who has never felt any kind of way toward Geto does give him a bit of the stink eye but that’s only because she’s more on the protective side; she harbors similar feelings toward Gojo. The rest of the night moves faster than you can blink, and you exit the bar with your arms hooked around one of Gojo’s and one of Geto’s.

After your personal afterparty with the two of them, the three of you are tangled in Satoru’s bed together while you mindlessly scratch along Satoru’s scalp like a calming exercise. Whether he admits it out loud or not Geto is a thousand times clingier especially after sex with you than Gojo is so he has his head resting on your chest while playing around with your phone instead of his. All about that skin on skin contact even when all of your bodies are drenched in sweat… it is both disgusting and weirdly intimate all at once, but that’s the nature of sex itself, isn’t it? 

Gojo eventually into the cuddle fest confesses to Geto that the two of you never did anything together after you broke up with him and it was all just a charade to get him to act, to which he says he doesn’t mind, because he deserved it. And yes, indeed he deserved every bit of that and then some because you put him through way more than just fooling around with just Satoru. 

“I still didn’t like the idea of you humoring any of Sukuna’s texts to you,” Geto scoffs as he scrolls through your text thread with the aforementioned acquaintance. “This guy ought to get buried six feet under for how he’s talking to you like you’re just a fresh piece of meat.”

”You make him sound cannibalistic,” you remark with a teasing grin. Geto shakes his head as he hones in on a particular text, making him grimace.

He presents you with your phone screen. “What the hell? ‘Would love to see you on all fours, gorgeous thing’? Is this grown ass man for real? Is that supposed to be flattering?”

”Sounds like borderline harassment to me,” Gojo comments while chewing on some licorice. He offers you one and you decline. Geto takes a small bite off of his piece, but makes a face at the taste. Not a fan of sweets as a whole but he still tries whatever Gojo shoves down his throat (especially his dick). 

You curl your lips in disgust again. How can anyone like black licorice? Apparently Satoru… who otherwise has the palate of a five year old. 

“Fuck, yes it does. Should we pay him a visit?” Geto suggests and Gojo nods eagerly, making you bury your face into your palms. These two… 

“We’re just saying—you don’t deserve to be objectified. You said so yourself you’re not a fan of it,” Geto brings up, and you sigh, relaxing your shoulders. 

So he really does see you, huh? Shaking your head to yourself, you find yourself snorting at your own foolishness. Silly. So damn silly you are. For someone who makes a big deal about ensuring there is ample communication between the three of you, you sure feel like a bit of a hypocrite right now. But again, it’s not like you haven’t tried to talk things out with Suguru far before all of this began. 

Speaking of which… 

You plant a swift kiss on his cheek, and his bewildered indigo eyes meet yours. You smile a little. There’s still plenty of time to discuss the elephant in the room, but not when they’re all appreciating each other’s afterglow. Suguru traces a finger along your collarbone, leaving a reverent trail of kisses after. 

“Man I didn’t expect to be third wheeling in my own relationship,” Gojo interjects with an exaggerated frown on his face. You laugh before planting a kiss to his lips, which instantly makes that frown disappear. No one likes to see such a ball of sunshine (and insufferableness) upset too long. Time to make that frown upside down! (Ah it seems he is rubbing off on you too…) 

While you’re attending to Satoru’s neediness, kissing down his neck and making him purr like a content kitten, Suguru continues to trail kisses along your cleavage before trailing to your back, kissing down your spine, hiking your leg up— 

“—if you try anything, I’m going to kick you in that stupid pretty face of yours,” you warn, “I don’t think I have another orgasm in me.”

”If you would be so kind as to let me challenge that theory…” he murmurs, face inching closer to your intimates.

”Suguru,” you chide again, “Not now.”

”Fiiiine,” he pouts, behaving as indignant as Satoru would be when he’s denied his favorite sweet. 

He still doesn’t stop himself from kissing along your thighs and just in general continuing other ways of spoiling you to death, which in that case, who are you to deny him something like that? 

Satoru lets out a little yawn that surprises even him as he tries to snuggle you a little closer into him and you nuzzle your face into his strong pecs. He may be skinny and lanky like Geto but his build is still sturdy. You draw circles around his unoccupied pec and he responds with a dreamy sigh. As messy as things can get with the three of you—a lot of it’s your fault this time—you can honestly say with your full chest that it’s in these moments where all of those other trying times make it all worth it. You don’t want things to go south with any of you so as long as they try to remember not to take each other for granted, then this could be all you need in your life. This is worth settling down for—these two gloriously hopeless men who you have fallen helplessly in love with yourself. 

“Baby?” you hear Satoru sleepily murmur as he decides it’s time to retire to sleep finally… you glance at your phone screen to see it’s just over a quarter after 3AM and you know at least for yourself you have a pile of work to attend to tomorrow. That can be tomorrow’s issue, along with still talking things out… 

“Hm?” you acknowledge him as both you and Geto join him. 

“You’re going to stick with us forever, right?” he prompts, glancing at you with hope in his eyes like some impressionistic child. 

“What are you, five? You do forget how finite our lives are, don’t you?” Geto interjects with a judgy look. You huff at his remark, which while true and another inevitability about their lives, he should still be a little more sensitive about Gojo’s feelings as well.

”Humor him, Suguru,” you chide with a playful whack on his shoulder blade, making him grunt in response. “Of course, Satoru. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncertain.”

”I know,” he remarks, before glancing at Suguru. “Er, we know.”

You chuckle at their antics, as Geto and Gojo simultaneously cage an arm around you and keep you snug in between them like nearly every night spent together. Just the three of them. The three of you work as a unit; you can’t believe you’re about to let all of that go just because you didn’t communicate your needs effectively enough. You have learned your mistake; you only hope Geto has learned his. There’s more to discuss when your mind isn’t about to drift off into blissful unconsciousness with the two men you love completely and wholly and hopelessly. 

Both Gojo and Geto plant a kiss on your cheeks, and you stifle a laugh. Oh, how silly you are,  how silly, indeed. 

“You better not break up with me again,” Geto warns but you pick up on the playful undertone. You roll your eyes, before exchanging a look with Gojo.

“Way to ruin a moment, Suguru,” Gojo scolds, shooting him a look. “And that’s usually my role! We were just getting all cozy and stuff and you had to go and make some empty threat.”

“It’s almost like that was the idea,” Geto counters with a smirk. 

“Just go to fucking sleep you two,” you groan as you flutter your eyes shut. “If I hear one more word come out of either of your mouths I’m washing them out with soap tomorrow morning.”

“Jesus,” Gojo breathes, his breath fanning your forehead a bit. “Whatever you say, Princess. We’re just glad you’re not leaving us for real any time soon.”

“Damn right she isn’t or we’re going to have serious issues,” Geto grumbles. You fall asleep to a bit more of them arguing as per tradition at this point, but it’s all white noise to you now.

It’s something to remind yourself to be grateful about having in your life.

[azzifuddfanpage]

So the world knows🫶🏻

————

*this is not my story guys ‼️‼️

full credits to my amazing anon who actually cooked so I’m posting it since they can’t but ya hope u guys love this as much as I did

❣️ANON HAS BEEN IDENTIFIED AS @wbbfann❣️

————

Author note

~A story told in past tense through small snippets of a fictional Pazzi World.

————-

The way Paige and Azzi announced their relationship was subtle and without much conversation. Paige knew that without a doubt, no matter how many seats she was given at her draft table, Azzi would be there. When she was announced as the #1 pick she stood, turned to her parents for a brief hug and then quickly found the arms of the one person who mattered most to her, Azzi. She latched on to her as Azzi whispered “I love you, P. I am so proud of you. This is your moment. Your deserve it.” Paige smiled and leaned up from the hug and placed her forehead gently on Azzi’s knowing they only had a second she said “I love you so much, this isn’t my moment without you right here.” She placed her hand briefly on Azzi’s cheek and Azzi smiled “I’m here, now go to the podium.” She chuckled and so did Paige, and then Paige walked up to the podium as the #1 draft pick.

Perhaps it was that moment that told the world, or perhaps it was later that night when Azzi posted on her social media pictures of them congratulating Paige, gushing over her, and then ending the post with “I love you the most.” Only for Paige to comment on it “you’re the love of my life for real, thank you Baby 💗.” It wasn’t a comment Paige ran by Azzi, but she didn’t need too. Without saying anything, even though the girls were sitting next to each other on a couch at the after party, Azzi replied back to it “always 😘💗”

To capitalize on what they already established tonight, Paige allowed her teammates to go live one more time at the draft after party. KK was talking to the live as she normally did, wrapping her arm around Paige and hyping her up about the night and telling all the fans to get a Wings Jersey and to buy some tickets. Paige just laughed at her friends. She read some comments “umm Paige and Azzi came out!” “Pazzi for life” and then “Paige where is your girlfriend?” Paige smiled before she said “where’s my girlfriend? She’s right here, “baby the live wants to see you.” KK’s grin spread from ear to ear and then she eventually got out of the frame and Azzi joined her. She looked at Paige and smiled then turned toward the camera, waiving, “hi live.” The comments went nuts. They came in so fast the couldn’t even read them. Azzi laughed “ok guys slow down let me look at some of these.” Azzi settled on a comment to read out loud “Paige and Azzi are in love 😭” Azzi giggled and looked at Paige and Paige raised an eyebrow Azzi leaned her head on Paige’s shoulder and looked at the camera “yeah we are.” The team behind them came into the frame then, jumping for joy and wrapping their arms around them. They all laughed and then Paige said “aight aight, bye live! I’ll see you in Dallas!” Paige dragged Azzi way from her teammates and let KK do whatever she was going to do. She found a corner, wrapped up Azzi in her arms and kissed her. She kissed her for a long time, until Brittany came up behind them. “Ahem, you may want to chill.” They pulled apart with laughter, Paige said “when have I ever been chill about Azzi.” Brittany laughed “true.”

When the girls would wake up the next morning ,in their hotel room, they’d see the internet going crazy over their deceleration of love. It didn’t bother them, they were ready for it.

They would also wake to many texts from friends and family, congratulating them, supporting them, and very thankful they didn’t have to evade weird questions from people about their relationship. John and Jose were the most grateful the pressure was now off of them having an accidental slip up.

~

Even though they had been together for essentially 7 years, defined or not, they had a lot of firsts. Like when Azzi showed up courtside to Paige’s first game wearing a jersey and Paige couldn’t stop staring at her. Yes, she had worn her jersey a couple of times.. but this time everyone knew that they belonged to each other. When the game was over and after acknowledgements to her team and the other team, Paige would walk straight to her girlfriend, and kiss her. Cameras around and all, Azzi would just smile and shake her head at her girlfriend. “Come with me to sign autographs.” P said immediately and Azzi followed suit as fans screamed for both Paige and Azzi. Azzi ended up signing everything Paige did and walked down the tunnel with her. In the post game media presser Paige would get her first taste of WNBA media personal who loved to ask all kinds of non basketball related questions. “Paige, we saw Azzi here tonight in your jersey, the affection you showed her at the end of the game, and then her walking down the tunnel with you. As I’m sure you know social media is already going crazy, I was just wondering if you had any comment on your relationship with your long time best friend.” Paige smiled “umm yeah, social media is what it is- but Azzi has always been there for me, I knew she’d be here today cheering me on and wearing my Jersey. I love her more than life and just really grateful to have her support.” Azzi would tell Paige later that she handled that question well, they didn’t want to ignore their relationship in the press but they also didn’t want it to be a focal point around everything they did.

~

Once the W season was over, Paige would get the chance to return her support as she would sit right behind the bench, in a #35 jersey cheering loudly for Azzi and the UConn Huskies. When the game was over and they had won, Paige would walk on the court hugging her former teammates and wrapping up her girlfriend in the biggest bear hug. She wouldn’t kiss her, only because CD would ban her from the court, but she did let hands linger just a bit on her hug.

~

In April, when it would be Azzi waiting to be drafted, Paige would sit at the table along with the Fudds and when Azzi was selected #2, one behind Lauren Betts, Azzi would take her last hug at the table from Paige, and then lightly kiss her lips before heading to the podium. Paige would stand the entire time, watching her being interviewed and smiling as big as she could.

~

When Paige and Azzi would meet each other for the first time on opposing squads, they wore matching shoes. Paige walked up to Azzi who entered on the court before tip off with the rest of the starting 5 for her squad. They had decided they’d go back to their roots when they would see each other on the court, so they brought their hands together and did their familiar USA basketball handshake as the cameras watched. The crowd at Dallas erupted, and the girls laughed. “Good luck baby” Paige said. Azzi winked “I don’t need luck, I’ll see your ass once this is over.” Paige laughed “like my naked ass?” “Yep” Azzi said over her shoulder, as she walked to join her team. Paige just smiled after her, laughing, and then dapped up Arike to get in game mode.

That evening the girls would lock themselves away from the world, relishing in the short time they had together. They knew this was their new normal and they were ok with that. It didn’t matter they would now have more days apart than together.. because the days together were worth every single one they spent apart.

[upandoutcomic]

Gonna be taking part in a live comics reading for charity in Los Angeles TOMORROW NIGHT if anyone out there is in the area lookin for something to do! The lineup is STACKED.

Tickets are pay what you want (it's all for charity!)

See you there! 💜

A snippet from when I read at the show a couple years back, reading some of my older work:

[oonajaeadira]

Patricio Keeps a Journal, Pt. 1: Winter

Good. Things. Take. Time. is a series that grew out of prompts–the whisper of a character, the asks of readers. And now, to get myself back into PATS’s head, the prompts are coming from @fanfticionoverload’s Seasons of Life challenge.

What you’re about to read are some excerpts from Patricio’s journal. Heads up they probably won't make much sense if you haven't read the ongoing series.

Each excerpt is just that–snippets that pertain to the story, taken from his presumed wider journal, each notated where it lands in the series and follows the chronology of the series.

The rules of the challenge ask for 250 words per prompt. I thought it would be a little less forced if I didn’t worry so much about that, so some may fall short of that number. And I’ll say that these aren’t heavily edited nor are they anything other than basic reactions, precisely because I wanted them to feel like the unfiltered thoughts one writes in a journal.

Let’s say that it was Shell’s orders for him to keep a journal in the first place. If his practice is his way of dealing with his demons, if he’s not going to go to traditional therapy, then “the least you can do is just offload before bed, and not the kind of offloading you do with your dick. I’m not gonna read it, but I’ll want to see words on those pages. Write a fucking play for all I care, write a manifesto about your love of pasta, I don’t give a shit what. Just write.”

I don’t have anything to write. I’m not a fucking poet. Shell says use the pen, get the words out of your head, just write anything. Anything. Anything. Tables have turned. Now I’m the one practicing letting it all out. Trying not to think too hard.  Anything.

EXCERPT 1: SNOW

TIMELINE: a few days before Good. Things. Take. Time.

…

#39 gifted me four tickets to the game at her last session. It’s Neils’ birthday. I’ll surprise him and Dan with a guy’s night out.

Got a new client coming in on Thursday. #48. I wasn’t going to approve her. Nothing in her application hints at any lingering trauma that she can’t just get treated at a legit clinic. But Shell was pushy about this one. She's got a knack for these things and hasn’t been wrong yet. Official referral diagnosis: pain is psychological tension from a recent(?) divorce. I guess it’s worth a shot. If nothing else, divorcees are usually just in need of a good fuck so it’s an easy fix. Good photo. I like her style. She’s going to make pretty faces.

Thinking about taking some time off after that. Rare confluence of three clients ending their run at the same time, it’s slow season at the office and the guys can handle a week without me, I should get out of town. Someplace quiet. Or fuck, I don’t know, someplace distracting where I can get out of my head. Maybe I should book a massage. Look at me, I’m hilarious. Who massages the masseuse? I’ll have Shell find me something. Keep it interesting. Place yer bets: seedy and cheap or golden toilets and happy endings? As long as it’s somewhere warm.

Renee posted the pictures from her honeymoon. Skiing in the Alps. She always used to hate the snow. Guess people change. Change can be a good thing. 

She’s better off. 

___

EXCERPT 2: SCARF

TIMELINE: The night of Good. Things. Take. Time.

…

Shell hit the jackpot on this one. Perfect plaything. She’s like I custom ordered a client. Recurring cluster knots all down her starboard teres major, needs a hand getting in under the port shoulder blade…can’t do it alone. Needs my hands. She needs me. Follows directions, trusts completely. Has a good imagination. That will open up more in time. I expect a challenge out of this one. Surprised the shit out of me with the beautiful thing though. Maybe shouldn’t have let her have that. Maybe shouldn’t have gone down on her. It’s fine. She’s clean. Tastes good smells good ass for days. I can get a good handful. Everywhere.

And perfect inside. Tight but not too tight, good control with the right assistance, takes direction like a dream. I’ll be able to get her to sing if she keeps listening. Mierda, her skin. My hands want to eat it. Oil it up and map it out and scarf it down. Her muscle structure is    -just-    amazing. I haven’t been this amped in months. This one hits the spot.

Giving her Thursday across the board might have come off too eager. Well, if that didn’t, offering up extra days on call probably did. Jackass.

Not gonna worry about that tonight. Bowling with the guys tomorrow night. Hope they’re ready to eat their damn balls. I’m fucking invincible.

She called me beautiful. She’s [sentence scratched out] 

Forgot to note in her file–she said she hasn’t had anyone make her come in over a year even though info says she’s only been divorced a few months. What kind of an asshole just walks away from that her? How could anyone share a bed or a house or anything with that and resist for a year? She deserves to get fucked every day. Why wouldn’t you want someone that just falls into you so willingly and fucks so pretty? Great. Now I’m angry. Not my concern. Just my gain.

___

EXCERPT 3: COZY 

TIMELINE: weekend evening, after installment #2, relieving period cramps

…

Keep thinking about Thursday. It’s not about the blood. It is and it isn’t. It’s obviously that she needed relief. It’s good to see her trusting. That can be tricky for some women. Beaten into them that they have to hide what their body does. It’s a body. It’s a unique mechanism. It has shit and blood and needs a good release now and then. Or every day for some people...another truth for some of us that the world wants hidden away.

The blood’s messy. It’s primal. It’s brutal and nobody blinks an eye if it comes from a punch to the face or a slice of the thumb. But the minute it comes from the minute it shows you what  a woman’s body is capable of… But it’s also the harshness of the color, a signal that if there’s pain then it’s real. It’s a helpful focus.

She just LETS me. There's beauty in that pliability. She trusts, she follows, she heals. The way her face just relaxes when the knots are gone. It’s almost as good as the orgasm itself. Beautiful.

Got her all warmed up in the bath, all cozy in bed. Fell asleep like a worn-out kitten and I had an urge to kiss her forehead. Poor thing just needed it today. Successful session.

___

EXCERPT 4: FIREPLACE 

TIMELINE: a couple of weeks later, evening, after installment #3, the treatment for migraine and anxiety AND includes this six sentence ficlet

…

Well shit. There’s a coincidence. She wouldn’t believe me if I told her.

Thursday came in tonight tight as a screw, migraine a good 7 or 8. I had to take it slow. Asked her to focus on some bright spots in her life, like her favorite things. I might have guessed the animals and reading, but the fanfiction was a surprise. Cute. It was best not to talk about what was causing the stress because

Her family coming to stay.

Fuck if I don’t sympathize. 

Mama got here two days ago and all she can do is complain about her hotel and American food and how everyone speaks too fast for her to keep up. It’s cold here. The hotel should have a fireplace. Why don’t you take time off Patricio? You have an extra bedroom, why can’t your mama sleep there?

I love her. But I get it. There are just some boundaries that are hard. I get you, Thursday.

Preciosa.

Fucked her five ways til Sunday. She fucked ME five ways till Sunday.. She drew blood. Didn’t even care. Mark me up, girl. Glad I could help, but damn that might have been more mutually beneficial than I’d originally planned.

___

EXCERPT 5: HOT CHOCOLATE 

TIMELINE: night of installment #4, with the undergarment ripping and the thigh-highs

…

I didn’t expect to get to play this much. I’m usually so focused on the pain and making sure the client can come in their condition that there’s not a lot of room for fun and surprises. I got to take Shell out last weekend and might have bought her too many beers and pull-tabs. It took her about three bottles to get profound. She wants to know who "therapies the therapist" and told me I should remember that it’s okay to put my own priorities first sometime. She said that people in the industry of care need to be taken care of too. She said it’s okay to have a client that gives as good as she gets. Then she went home and threw up and texted me the next day that she’s drinking nothing but hot chocolate from now on. Haha

Shit. Thursday feels good when she walks out of here. She looks like a million bucks. I did that. I DO that. THAT’s what I need. So yeah. Why shouldn’t I enjoy that? Cute tonight. She wanted me to rip her panties. All she had to do was ask, but I think she was embarrassed to?

So the new diagnosis is lack of confidence and the treatment is for her to speak up for what she wants. We’re going to get her to a place where she can ask–or demand what she needs. We’ll work on her trusting that I’ll give her anything she wants–anything. 

She’ll be able to walk out of here and conquer the world when I’m done with her.

___

EXCERPT 6: FREEZING 

TIMELINE: a couple of weeks after the previous entry

...

[….] and Niels can go to hell though because I don’t care how low key it is or how good the whiskey is, I’m not giving up my Thursdays to fill in the hole in his poker night. His basement is freezing and I have warmer places to be.

Although speaking of, Thursday canceled again. It’s been a couple of weeks. Crunch time at work for her I guess. Her portal messages seem pretty stressed. She’s apologetic about missing sessions. I can tell her she doesn’t need to apologize, I’m getting paid whether she shows or not. And honestly, it just means we’re going to have to work that much harder to get her malleable again and I can hardly complain about that. A build up’s a hell of a thing. As long as she doesn’t mess up her rhombs again. We were just making headway on that. I should ask her about her desk chair.

But I’d be lying if I said that I gave a shit about the pay. I’m allowed to enjoy my clients and be disappointed when I don’t get to see them.

At least Jean’s back on Friday. It will be nice to see her again. Now that her latest surgery’s all healed up, we can find her some good positions for her to take home. I know her partner’s skittish about the discovery phase. But she’s almost done and when the reconstruction’s over, he’ll thank me for it. He SHOULD thank me for it, she’s got a good laugh and good tits.

Jean’s a perfect example of learning to speak up for herself. I can do the same for Preciosa. Lucky for her she doesn’t have Jean’s level of pain to work through. But she’s gotta show. up. for. it. Come on, girl. I got you.

___

EXCERPT 7: MARSHMALLOW

TIMELINE: directly after installment #5, all pent up and feral

…

Now THAT. Was a successful fuck. We’re making headway here. Little slapping, little biting, she got a good few hair yanks in there. She’s learning that not only am I not a marshmallow…neither is she. Good girl. Pretty high praise response, but she’s also got a little fight in her. She’s a switch and doesn’t even know it. She will. 

There were some real emotions tonight, real anger, real tears. But when she let go I nearly wept myself. It was beautiful. She’s working too hard and she knows it. But she also knows I’ve got her when she does. Hopefully that will preempt some of the stress next time. Not even upset about that shoulder blade. We’ll just start from the beginning on that.

[....]

Just reminded me of Renee nagging about working too hard. I just remembered that I had a dream about her a few nights ago. Not really about her. She was in the background somewhere and not even angry that I didn’t stop to say hello. Then she picked up her purse and left. The light kind of shifted like, I don’t know. Felt like it was the last time I’d see her. Not in a bad way. 

It’s good. Like a door really closing.

Maybe I do work too hard. But I like it. It’s who I am. It’s my choice.

____

PATS in winter by @d4rm4nd4

SERIES MASTERLIST

[xmintpiex]

Angelfish - nsfw, 18+, Yo Hiori x f!reader wc: 2043

Your Yo-kun was like an angelfish. Beautiful. Cute. A little aggressive.

content: blind date, strangers to lovers, told in snippets, inexperienced!Hiori, blood mention, fingers in mouth, reader calls him 'Yo-kun' mainly, mentions of: dry humping, making out, oral (reader receiving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, cosplay, vibrator usage in public

note: (click after reading for a fun surprise😆) inspired by this post from @kongkhoi (ty hiel!!🥰🥰🥰)

You were glad you decided to go on this date with Yo Hiori. You hadn't really known anything about him aside from what your friend had told you ("he's a professional footballer, he's a really good guy, give him a chance!"), but it seemed like your friend was right this time.

Hiori's gentle smile, his pale blue eyes and fluffy hair so lovely in the dim lighting of the restaurant, politely taking a bite of his food every now and then as the two of you conversed. Conversation came surprisingly easy despite his seemingly more quiet nature, he cared about what you had to say and held obvious interest, making an effort. So cute.

He reminded you of a sweet little kitten, curious and friendly but also with a bit of clear independence. You wanted to see past that gentle politeness, see how fondness looked on his face.

Would he be the clingy type? Wanting your attention and touch whenever he pleased, like a precious kitten? Arms wrapped around your waist, cheeks warm, sweet, needy words on his lips? Being the only one to get to see him like that?

It wouldn't be so bad to date a man like that..

You could feel your smile widen, push against your already flushed cheeks as you take another bite of the delicious meal. Eyes meeting his yet again. Dazzling in the candlelight. Captivating.

"I had a great time, I'd love to see you again."

Hiori's words soft and clear as he walked you out of the restaurant, insisting on walking you to the train station. He kept his pace slow to match up with yours, your arms occasionally bumping as you navigated the bustling city streets. (With every bump, you could feel the firm muscle that lay beneath that soft, loose sweater he wore. Could almost picture the thickness of his thighs, the solid lines of his abs.) He was too sweet, keeping close yet giving you distance. A small smile on his face every time the two of you made eye contact. He almost reminded you of a puppy. Did he want you that much?

You couldn't help but reach out to carefully hold his large hand, his fingers much longer compared to yours. Your heart beating faster as his own face brightened so beautifully, his hand shifting to properly hold yours. Palm against palm, his grip a little too tight before slightly loosening. He must be nervous. Adorable.

You wanted to see more.

"I'd love that too."

Maybe Hiori was more like a rabbit.

You couldn't help but giggle as you watched him maneuver through the crowded coffee shop, his face impassive aside from the slight furrow of his brows, the little scrunch of his nose. The drinks the two of you ordered kept carefully in his hands, his movements swift and quick-witted. Was this how he looked like while on the field? An energetic, quick rabbit? You couldn't wait to see at his game next Friday, he had already got you a ticket.

"Sorry 'bout the wait."

Your lips twitch upwards at the subtle lilt of his kansai accent. Over the past few weeks you had gotten to know Hiori, you had noticed it more and more. He has said it had weakened over the years since he rarely went back to Kyoto, but you could hear it come out in certain moments. Like when he talked about the latest video game he played. Or when he was a bit frazzled by something, like when that rude guy had bumped into you without apologizing. It always came out so easily when you visited him at his apartment, that fast, melodic cadence paired with the slight flush of his cheeks, that warm glow of his pale blue eyes, his knee slightly bumping yours as you watched another movie on his sofa.

Yo-kun truly was like his name. A sweet, innocent sheep. Just for you.

His breath hot and heavy against your wet lips, a string of saliva keeping you tethered to him. His eyes dark and lidded, chest rising against your hands. His thighs so solid and ridged against your ass, every little squeeze of his muscle felt despite the fabric between you. His baggy sweatpants doing very little to hide the massive bulge that presses achingly against your damp shorts, your soaked pussy, your stomach. His large hands trembling yet firm on your hips. Keeping you in place too easily.

"I..I don't wanna move too fast…I've never felt this way 'bout anyone before.."

A soft, needy pant against your lips, the next kiss so tender. He pulls back a bit, head lolling back against the sofa, his blue eyes glossy and mesmerizing. Mesmerizing like the fast thrum of his beating heart beneath your palm. Your heart no doubt the same. Aching butterflies in your tummy, that delicious warm heat that fills you from your head to your toes. Dizzying. Addicting.

Had you ever felt this way with anyone else before? You couldn't remember. Didn't need to remember.

"Then we'll take it slow, Yo-kun…"

You murmur breathily against his cheek, your shaky, hot hand gently caressing his now messy blue hair. Oh how your heart leapt as he slowly nuzzled against your palm. Affection nearly dripping from his eyes, the gentle curve of his smile widening.

Your cute, lovely sheep. You would take good care of him.

Well.

Maybe a sheep wasn't quite right either.

Your eyes watching him as he moved across the soccer field. You had managed to be able to make it to one of his practices and didn't want to miss the opportunity to see your Yo-kun in his element.

How he darted effortlessly across the field, synced up well with his teammates. Sure, some of the others were louder, more flamboyant in their efforts, but there was something about the quiet, precise movements of your Yo-kun that had you captivated. He was not to be underestimated.

Hmm.

"Ow!"

Stinging pain as you accidently bite your tongue, setting your chopsticks down to hold your mouth.

"What happened?"

Worry palpable in his voice as he quickly comes to your side, brows furrowed and lips slightly downturned.

"Ah, nothing, I just bit my tongue.."

You can't help but murmur, a little shy under the intensity of his light blue eyes.

"Let me see."

His long fingers gently prodding at your pouty lips, your mouth easily opening for him. His firm fingertips a little too heavy on your bleeding tongue, you can't help but wince.

"Hold still for me."

A gentle coo. Though it does little to soothe the firmness of his rub. But you wouldn't complain when your Yo-kun was looking at you so tenderly. He was just trying to help. It was nice.

Angelfish.

The pretty fish you spotted on that aquarium date with him. The vibrant sheen of the little fish darting in the tank so captivating. Beautiful. Cute. A little aggressive.

His sweet laugh as you pointed the little fish out. Your head against his arm, hand in hand. His eyes so perfect in the blue light of the aquarium. Luminescent like the scales of the angelfish.

That perfectly described your Yo-kun.

The way his eyes lit up at the first taste of your pussy. His glazed eyes unrelenting and dark as his grip tightens, chin tipping up to press his rosy lips more against your slick folds. His large hands easily tilting you hips to more effectively suckle at your clit. Dart into your tight little hole. Adding a finger. And then another. Another. Not letting up until you were boneless and babbling, your grip on his light blue hair so weak. A gentle chuckle as he caressed your messy, drenched pussy. Sweet little coos at your whines.

His eyes sparkling as he licks his slick covered fingers. The sheen of his damp chin, his wet, pearly smile your beacon in the dim light of his bedroom.

Your angelfish.

His birthday, You wanted to do something a little special. Dress up as that one character he liked. The outfit a little more revealing than needed. The way his eyes widened, his smile bright and cheeks so red, you couldn't help but beam under his clear adoration, your heart fluttering.

"You did this for me? I..wow.."

"It's your birthday, Yo-kun. Today we'll do whatever you want!"

You flutter your lashes sweetly, make that seductive little pout that always makes his blush reach the tips of his ears. Causes that little twitch of his knee.

"Whatever I want?" His eyes crinkle adoringly, sparkling, his smile blooming. Full and toothy. Boyish and unrestrained. He looked so wonderful like this. So dazzling. You wanted to make him smile like that always.

It takes him but a moment to decide what he wants.

His hand trailing up the soft flesh of your thigh, parting between the flimsy fabric of your costume, eliciting delicious goosebumps as he gently thumbs at your panties, so easily finding your clit. Looking up at you with those pale, bewitching eyes. His thumb pressing down a little bit firmer.

"Sit on my lap."

How could you ever say no to him? You wanted to give your Yo-kun everything he wanted. He deserved it.

Your angelfish.

The cheers loud around you in the packed stadium. The VIP seat that Hiori picked out for you was more empty, giving you space away from the rowdy crowd. Thank goodness..

An important game for the season, to determine who would proceed to the championship. Of course you would be there to cheer on your boyfriend.

Your precious angelfish.

Ah..

Wait..

That wasn't quite right.

Your eyes lidded and glossy as you tried your hardest to keep your concentration on him. Quivering lips hidden behind the soft, bulky fabric of the scarf Hiori had gifted you.

Your heavy eyes on his figure, calm and precise as he moved across the field. That long strand of blue hair bobbing in the wind. Reminiscent of something. A fuzzy blur in the back of your mind, easily lost to all the other sensations that frazzled your brain.

You could barely think. But you promised Yo-kun you would count all his goals, cheer the loudest for him. You had to be a good girl for your Hiori…

Another cool breeze through stadium going right up your coat. Your seat too cold against your bare thighs, your hands shaking as you attempted to pull your long, puffy coat down more to cover them. Yo-kun liked it when you wore his coat to his games, so oversized and baggy on you. It felt a little frumpy. But it was better this way.

Another string of drool dripping down your bottom lip as the crowd erupts into cheers. Ah. A goal. Your Yo-kun scored a goal.

Legs like jelly, thighs hot and damp as you stand up. You needed to cheer your Yo-kun on.

The little vibrator shifting as you stand, the once dull vibrations now pressing too perfectly against your already mushy, weeping clit. That familiar, tight, aching sensation of your lower stomach. A little whine on your tongue, your trembling hands gripping your coat. The tingling rub of your pointy, bare nipples against your coat. Toes squirming against the inside your shoes. Slick little droplets running down your thighs. Again. Again.

"A-Ahh…G-go oh! Mmm..Go Y-Yo-kun!"

Your debauched cry luckily lost in the endless sea of cheers, but never lost to Hiori's ears.

His head swiveling to your location in the stands. A bead of sweat down his cheek, eyes still narrowed from the effort of his play. His pale blue eyes glinting with that familiar intensity as they meet your fluttering gaze. Something dark and wicked lurking behind the soft pale blue of his eyes.

A reminder for what awaited you after this game. Your body writhing against his sheets, his favorite prize. Drowning to his hot touch, to cold metal and smooth silicone. Your tears, your never ending slick his most favorite dessert.

His smile-no, a grin. A sneer. Teeth pearly and sharp, jagged. Shiny. Tongue slightly peeking out between. Hungry. Counting down the minutes until he got to have you to himself.

Oh. That's right.

That's what Yo Hiori was.

Anglerfish.

[northern-passage]

this is a formal interest check for a charity raffle with the IF community

if you are an IF author or artist and you're interested in participating in a charity-drive raffle, please check out this form! we are aiming to do one big raffle with a single prize pool, where people submit proof of donation in exchange for a raffle ticket.

prizes we are currently considering would be things like a spicy snippet or a cosy snippet, etc. potential sketches from artists or a rendered bust, etc. and we'll allow the authors & artists to dictate how much/what exactly they're comfortable offering. donating to multiple gfm will mean more entries into the raffle. we'll be offering a list of potential gfm to donate to (we're going to try and focus on ones with low funds) & any artists/authors offering prizes can specify if they want to sponsor specific gfm.

this is subject to change! we are just trying to gauge interest right now and see what we can put together on our side of things which depends entirely on the people willing to contribute & if we get enough interest.

here is the google form for artists and authors to fill out:

this was inspired by the book auction for gaza as well as the many other art raffles i've seen here and on twitter.

[oureddie]

tease tuesday 🍾

here's a lil snippet from my beloved wine night fic, which.. ideally should be completed by tomorrow. my first official fic back in fandom pls be nice ok. ___

And that’s how Eddie finds himself with a sparkling strawberry guava Celsius in one hand and a large coffee from The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf in the other, knocking on the Wilsons’ side door.

“Eddie!” Karen says, flinging the door open, a glass of merlot in her hand. “Hen—”

“Is pulling a double with Chim because they want to take the kids to Disney for Jee’s 4th and Denny’s 13th birthdays. I know.” Eddie finishes for her, chugging the last of his energy drink as he walks inside and makes his way toward the kitchen. “Buck spent all shift trying to finesse his way into getting an invite,” he shakes his head.

“Eddie, have you seen what a singular ticket to Disney costs? For one person? For one day?” Karen asks, pouring the rest of the wine from the bottle into her glass. Disney prices will do that to you.

“Have you seen Buck’s cost/benefit analysis spreadsheet?” Eddie raises an eyebrow and pops the cork out of his bottle of mid-level Chardonnay. Buck had spent every second of downtime on shift (which, honestly, wasn't much) following Chim around the station with his clipboard, trying to convince Chimney that, yes, “magic bands are worth it,” and “you get way more bang for your buck when you just splurge on the FastPass, Chim.”

Karen takes a sip of her wine and raises an eyebrow, suspiciously, as she heads over to the couch and plops down. Eddie follows, sitting right next to her. “I… haven’t,” she says slowly, a bit of suspicion in her voice. “But… I have heard he hasn’t moved out yet.” She changes the subject, knowing Eddie would dodge it if she didn’t.

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but Karen cuts him off, her tone light. “Not that you should kick him out,” she says quickly. “It’s just… I spent a lot of time sitting on that couch when you were gone, and let me tell you, it’s... it’s not exactly the best for anyone’s back.”

Eddie furrows his brow, the confusion clear on his face as he takes a sip of his wine. "Okay, who’s sleeping on the couch?" he asks.

[dumbass-404]

W2H fic snippet below the cut

I like this part and the rest of the fic sucks so you're not gonna see it EVER. slash jay. But I need to sit on it after I finish to know if it's shitty or not.

“This movie stinks,” Sock said. Well, enjoy most of the time. 

“You just think it’s inaccurate.” Jonathan shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Not everyone knows what ghosts live like.”

“It’s not inaccurate. They're using sheep guts, or something real for the effects. It’s just a boring movie.” 

“How do you know what sheep guts look like?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” Sock adjusted his seat on the couch, slouching closer to the middle of it. “Also, I’m a demon, not a ghost.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Were you not watching the movie? Demons are born in Hell. Ghosts used to be alive.” He lazily pointed one finger at Sock, the other hand grabbing another handful of popcorn. “You’re a ghost,” he said, mouth full. 

“I know what I am, Jonathan. Mephi– my boss told me I’m a demon, so let’s stick with that.”

He swallowed. “Ghosts are also around for a reason, right? Unfinished business they have to deal with.” Jonathan stared right at him, or right through him. Sometimes it was hard for Sock to tell the difference. “What are you here for?”

“To make you kill yourself.” Sock gave a smooth smile. “Remember? I’m a demon and I’m here to haunt you?”

“Why, though?” he asked sincerely. “You never knew me before you died. It doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s my job. My boss gave it to me.”

“If every person on earth died, and got to go back, you’d hear from some people.” He leaned over the popcorn bowl towards Sock. “They’d call them crazies at first–”

“Just like how you’re crazy. You’re talking to yourself r-”

“-But then enough people would talk about it, and it would be normal,” Jonathan finished, cutting Sock off from his jab. “There’s a reason you’re back here, and not everyone else, and you’re haunting me. Why are you haunting me, specifically?”

Sock had to think about it. “...I like killing things.” He turned his body to face Jon. “I like watching the life leave their eyes.” He stared at the boy, into those icy blue eyes with pupils the size of saucers. He could imagine them dulling, skin paling, blood painting lips. “I want to watch the life leave your eyes.”

“Really.” Jonathan didn’t break. “Morbid curiosity got you a ticket back? Homicidal tendencies?”

“I killed my own parents in my sleep with a kitchen knife before I turned eighteen.” He saw Jonathan’s eyes widen, and a small part of him felt his heart swell. “It’s not tendencies, it’s instincts. Something’s wrong with me.” He’d heard that phrase from almost everyone in his life, but it felt foreign out of his own mouth, especially with so much pride. “My boss saw that inside me, and thought I would be a good fit for the job.” 

“But I’m still alive.” Jonathan turned away, but not in defeat. “And you’re watching movies with me instead of stabbing me. Why is that?”

The demon stared at Jonathan’s side profile. The movie was color corrected poorly, and a green cast lit the front of his face. The sounds of screams from the TV felt distant, fake. He could hear Jonathan give a small but satisfied sigh, as if he had won the argument. 

It wasn’t even an argument, so why did he feel like he lost?

[marimayscarlett]

The untitled album turns 6 today 🎶💿

On this day in 2019, Rammstein released their seventh studio album. What was significant and different compared to previous albums was that this one had no written title on the cover—just an image of a matchstick. As a result, it came to be known as the “untitled” or “matchstick” album.

Richard's recurring statement in past interviews that no new album was planned is widely known. After the LIFAD tour ended in 2013, the band took a year off, and after one more meeting, another year. The general consensus was that they didn’t want to pressure themselves or each other, since the working phase for the LIFAD album had been very exhausting in terms of group dynamics. In an interview in 2015, Till revealed that the band would be meeting in September 2015 for a casual, creative gathering. In October 2015, this photo was published on the official website, showing the band improvising in Schneider’s studio:

It was decided that the band would work between the festival tours of 2016 and 2017, and that rest periods should be respected. Richard worked on his demos together with Till; the final results were presented to the rest of the band during their meetings and discussed.

As the first result of that creative period, the song 'Ramm4' was introduced during the 2016 tour. Flake commented: “We wanted to show the world that we are still together and that we are creating new music.” To this day, the song hasn’t been officially released, although it was used again as the opening song on last year’s tour.

At the end of 2016, work resumed. In March 2017, Richard mentioned in this interview for the Rammstein in Paris film that at that point, 35 almost-finished songs existed, and that the wait would be worth it. Over the course of the year, these drafts were reduced to 28. Sky van Hoff also mentioned that same year that he would be working with Rammstein. Work on the compositions continued until spring 2018, apparently under a rule of four working days per week (Monday through Thursday). The song “Deutschland” in particular weighed heavily on the band - the lyrics prompted them to repeatedly look back on their own past and exchange their views:“Everyone of us expressed his opinion in detail. All of us talked about our experiences and feelings with respect to Deutschland. Some of us even told stories about themselves that I never heard before.” (Deutschland Photobook)

Recording took place in spring 2018 at La Fabrique Studios near Nîmes in southern France, with recordings made for a total of 16 songs.

Jacob Hellner was no longer involved, his role was taken over by Olsen Involtini. In late summer 2018, the orchestral and choir parts were recorded in Minsk. In December of the same year, 11 of the 16 songs were mixed by Rich Costey, Olsen Involtini, and Richard in Santa Monica, California.

As a teaser for the album, a tracklist with placeholders for letters and durations was released in 2019, hinting at the song titles:

DEUTSCHLAND – 05:26

+ADI+ – 03:00

++++ DICH – 03:00

A+S+Ä+D+R – 03:00

++X – 03:00

P+PP+ – 03:00

+AS +CH ++E++ – 03:00

+IA+AN+ – 03:00

WE++ WE+ – 03:00

+A++OO – 03:00

+ALL++ANN – 03:00

Audio snippets, each featuring a short instrumental segment from one of the songs, gave further clues to the tracks.

Starting on the album’s release day, a large truck toured various cities in Germany, Poland, the Netherlands, Belgium, and Austria. At each stop, visitors were given a special code they could use to win 2x2 tickets to the sold-out shows of the 2019 Europe Stadium Tour.

The album itself was visually dominated by the colors white and white. A making of video was released showing the photo shoot, which featured photographer Jes Larsen working with the band.

More little facts:

If you ordered the album in Germany from Saturn or MediaMarkt, you received a free promotional T-shirt, which has still never been officially released. Another special promotion took place in Long Beach, California: if you bought the album at the store Fingerprints Music, you had the chance to receive a free Rammstein logo tattoo.

The song “Deutschland” triggered a wave of outrage in Germany, as it was frequently misinterpreted and the music video was considered offensiven - particularly due to its references to the Holocaust.

The music video for “Radio” was projected onto a building wall in Berlin-Mitte on April 25, 2019, at 8:55 p.m., shortly before the album’s release. About 1000 fans attened the presentation:

Olsen Involtini also took on the role of mediator during the creative process. Richard reported the following: “Because of his presence, the energy between Paul and I changed dramatically. I don’t know why. It’s almost like couples therapy. It’s not about going there and getting advice from a therapist. It’s more about if you go to a therapist and you’re sitting in front of another person, you’re listening to what the other person is saying, and while they’re saying something, you’re thinking of strategies on how to fight against it. So, all of a sudden, I was listening to what he was saying and he was listening to what I was going to say. Individually, we are very, very different. Black and white. If he says ‘Yes,’ I say ‘No.’ It’s always the same story. But somehow we need that for the Rammstein universe.” (Revolver)

Sources: rammsteinworld rammwiki affenknecht discogs dw.com kerrang

[piplupfluffwritingstuff2]

Anniversary Adversities

This is a special snippet for my friend @creweemmaeec11! I hope you have an awesome and happy birthday!!

I made this using my Storymatic cards!

Hero tossed and turned in the tiny bed, unable to get comfortable in the trailer. Villain was an outdoorsy type, so for their anniversary Hero just had to open their big mouth and suggest they go camping . Of course, Villain agreed with such enthusiasm that Hero couldn’t possibly take it back, even when they remembered how much they hated camping.

To Hero, camping was like paying a parking fee to live like a homeless person. There was no access to hot showers, you had to hike to the nearest bathroom- which was rarely maintained so the toilet paper was always empty and you were lucky if they had soap- and there were bugs. So many bugs. To the city, Hero was pretty fearless, but that was only because they had never faced a bug-powered villain. Oh, and don’t forget the campfire, that was a real problem. Aside from the fact that smoke would blow in their face no matter where they sat, Hero’s cryogenic makeup made them especially sensitive to high heat. Hero almost passed out twice when it was time to roast marshmallows.

Hero kept these complaints to themselves, of course. But this was the third night in the mountains, and Hero still hadn’t slept a wink. The wind whipped outside while every little noise made them jump. Raccoons, Villain had assured them. Bears, Hero’s brain argued.

…

An eternity of a night later, Hero’s face matched the supposed raccoons’, dark circles and all. The sun was barely up before Villain was pulling them out of bed to sit by the fire. Villain was going on and on about the day’s itinerary.

“And after the hike to the falls, we can go birdwatching, and then maybe some rock-hopping… Hero? Are you okay?”

Hero was nodding off in their thin folding chair. They woke with a start, looking at Villain and forcing a smile.

“Of course!” Hero said, “go on. Bird-hopping and rock-watching and a falls to the hike.”

Villain’s brows furrowed in concern. Hero stared, their smile not reaching their eyes. Were they on to them? They hadn’t said anything weird, had they?

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” Villain asked.

“Of course I-”

Villain’s brow quirked. Lie to me, I dare you, it said.

“…didn’t,” Hero sighed, “no, um, I haven’t really slept for the past few days.”

“Few days!? Hero- you should’ve said something!”

“There wasn’t anything to do about it,” Hero argued, “it’s not like you could magically make me sleep…”

Villain chuckled sadly, shaking their head, as if sharing a joke with themselves that Hero wasn’t privy to. Hero could feel Villain raking their gaze up and down their form, inspecting them and making calculations like they always did.

“You’ve been miserable, haven’t you?” They realized.

“No!” Hero said quickly, “of course not! I’m with you! This is so… fun! And… natural!”

“Oh, Hero… I wish you’d’ve told me…”

Villain got up from their spot by the fire. The leaves crunched under their shoes as they approached their lover. They crouched down to be eye-level with them. Villain took their hands and started rubbing them, while Hero stared into their eyes with a dead-tired look.

“I’m sorry,” Hero said as they failed to stifle a yawn, “but you were so happy to go camping and I love you and it’s our anniversary and it shouldn’t be just what I want to do and-”

“Hero. It shouldn’t be just what I want to do, either. We could’ve gone to that water park, or that huge bookstore in Other City. Heck, we could’ve gone to Bora Bora if we wanted to!”

Hero giggled a little despite themselves.

“Bora Bora? How?”

“Come now, my love, I’m a Villain. It wouldn’t be hard to buy first-class tickets. I could probably even get you a private jet if I wanted to.”

“Are you mad at me?” Hero asked.

“If I was, I’m over it now. I could never stay upset with you, you know that.”

Villain stood, pulling Hero up with them.

“I’ll get everything packed up and we’ll go home. The week isn’t over. We can still do something we’d both enjoy.”

“I just wanna sleep in my own bed…”

“I’ll get you back to your bed,” Villain smiled, rubbing their back, “I can have you sleep on the way home, if you’d like.”

Villain held a hand to Hero’s temple, and Hero’s body felt inexplicably relaxed and heavy. Their eyelids began to flutter.

“You never told me you were a telepath…” they mumbled.

“I can’t read minds, but I can influence them,” Villain said, lifting Hero into their arms and carrying them to the car, “just rest. We’ll get you home and then we’ll start anniversary 2.0.”

“Bora Bora?”

“Bora Bora,” Villain nodded with a smirk.

Hero drifted off just as Villain buckled their seatbelt for them. When they awoke next, it would be to a hot shower and freshly washed bedsheets. In the meantime, Villain made sure their dreams were pleasant and sweet.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm@memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit @telltaletoad @bacillusinfection @noseyowes @whump-till-ya-jump @writinglittlepains @m4iloblu3

[leashybebes]

several sentence smonday

tagged by @ambernotember - thank you, love!

inspired by listening to the fun home OST and getting myself in my feelings. idk if the timelines work out, and idc that much. wild self indulgence is my watch word.

wips, what wips? 👀 context: pre-canon tommy can't go for drinks with the gang this evening because abby's got tickets for a play. he thinks it's called fun house or something? (spoilers for alison bechdel's fun home in this snippet)

It's cute. At first, it's cute. It opens with three versions of the same character on stage, at different ages. The little girl version plays with her dad, but his attention gets pulled away easily by the house and a delivery. He figures it'll be a family drama with songs, which…not especially his thing, but Abby looks like she's having a good night so far.

The first proper song is cute with an undercurrent of tension, the house being put together, tidied and made perfect. It's catchy. Funny. Well-performed. Tommy recognizes the tension like he'd recognize his own face in the mirror, like he'd recognize the flash of Abby's hair in a crowd.

Then a younger male character comes on stage - yard work or something - and the way the dad's eyes catch on him as the cast sing he wants more makes something snag in Tommy's gut.

Then the older version of the main girl gets hit with a spotlight, the rest of the stage fading into blackness as she says: "Caption. My dad and I grew up in the same small Pennsylvania town. And he was gay. And I was gay. And he killed himself."

The snag in Tommy's gut turns into a fucking cavern.

no pressure tags for @trombonechurchill, @frogsinflannel, @aesthetictarlos and @exhaustedpirate (aka beloved enablers)

[felassan]

Some more DA:TV and related snippets from Sylvia Feketekuty, Part 2. rest of post under a cut due to length and spoilers. [Post One, Post Three]

The dev team really wanted to deliver on Emmrich's romance [source]

Sylvia Feketekuty has now left BioWare so there are likely some things she can't answer now "just because I can't look them up with certainty anymore" [source]

When Emmrich is first introduced, he has a skull helmet. Why does it never ever appear for the next 40-100 hours? "The helmet does indeed look wicked! I believe it actually shows up on his shelf in the Lighthouse eventually. (If I had been a smarter writer I would've asked if we could have it appear again, that one's on me.)" [source]

User: "In another post you mentioned shops in Nevarra City near the Necropolis. How far IS Nevarra City itself is from the Necropolis? Do only senior MWs get to go?" / Sylvia: "I'm reluctant to say what the distance is since I never defined it in game so it's Unknown™. But I imagine they can either walk or take a carriage, depending. Also I never imagined junior MWers are forbidden from going into town or such. It could be they have set hours and times where they're allowed. But got to get all those chores done first..." [source, two]

On the DA:I goat scene ([link]) - "The GOAT! God bless them, that was a delight." [source]

Brian J. Audette, on [this thread] - ""Better late than never" addendum to this thread. I just noticed that Isle of the Gods' writer Sylvia is on here now and I'd be remiss not to tag her in this thread. I can't say enough wonderful things about having worked with Sylvia on this mission." [source] / Sylvia: "Thanks Brian! You tackled an absolutely jam-packed mission with aplomb." [source]

Jo Berry: "Thank you for everything and everything else, on both Veilguard and Inquisition. Sunlight on your road, wherever it goes." [source] / Sylvia: "Thank YOU for all your writing Jo. Seriously, you were a godsend on Veilguard and DAI both." [source]

Trick Weekes: "It's been fantastic working with you, Sylvia, and I know you're going to crush it with whatever you do next. Thank you for finally letting me make you "the person who has to do journals so Trick doesn't" on one of our projects." [source] / Sylvia: "Thank you Trick! I'll miss working with you. It was an honour to finally be given the awesome responsibility of the journal system that still haunts my dreams." [source]

John Epler: "sylvia did you see i told the world Emmrich sleeps standing up like a horse" [source] / Sylvia: "It's days later but: yes. Yes I did." [source]

User: "As someone who also has a truly debilitating fear of death, Emmrich is so special to me. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen it represented in such a clear and concise way." / Sylvia: "Thanks, definitely felt that fear myself. I really wanted to express it clearly and was hoping would resonate with others." [source]

User: "Do you have any thoughts or opinions on what nickname Emmrich might have gotten from Varric if he'd ever gotten one?" / Sylvia: "Oh man that's a good question, but ultimately since I didn't write Varric, that must remain a mystery. Nicknames can only be bestowed. ("Bones" like someone suggested below is funny though.)" [source]

User: "If Emmrich's hobby is alchemy/plants, Vorgoth's is art, and Audric's is architecture... what's Myrna's? (Next to Emmrich, she's my favorite Watcher - sorry Vorgoth!)" / Sylvia: "Myrna has a one off line, you may not have heard it yet, where she talks to Vorgoth about getting tickets to the Sword of Drakon.* She enjoys a night out at the theater, whether it's a play or an opera. *(I think that's the play I named, I hope I'm recalling my own line haha.) It's a bit indulgent of me, but I chose Sword of Drakon because it was one of the plays I made up for a series of codices in DAI about Orlesian theater. I had a lot of fun with these and wanted to give them life once more. [link]" [source, two]

User: "During Rook’s disappearance in the prison, how did Emmrich react? Considering their intense romance, did he fall into depression, or did he show a more vulnerable side? Could his fear of death have influenced the situation? In the immortal romance💀, Emmrich promises that nothing will separate them, not in this world or any other. How likely is that? Would he go to great lengths for Rook, even crossing boundaries? Or, at some point, would he accept Rook's death?" / Sylvia: "1) Very strongly! I think it's a bit more interesting if I leave details to your imaginations, but Emmrich feels things deeply and probably had some sleepless nights. 2) So this I can't say much on even though it's a juicy topic. The truth is, I wouldn't even know unless I was actually sitting down to write it. Again, Emmrich feels things very passionately, but this is the kind of scenario where I might want the player's choices to have an effect." [source, two]

User: "Any chance that color scheme [of Emmrich's coat] was based off the corpse flower?" / Sylvia: "I couldn't find anything on the colour scheme and the corpse flower. Afraid this one's a mystery to me." [source]

User: "I'm really curious if there's a Nevarrese language? We have Orlesian, Antivan, Tevene, Qunlat..." / Sylvia: "I wondered that myself, especially given its ancient ties with Tevinter and also Orlais which would certainly have affected the languages of power and influence. Could also have roots with the Planasene. We never talked about one though, as far as I know, so the answer remains...unknown. 💀 (I did introduce tomb-script, the language you see etched into stone in the Necropolis, but I thought of it as more of a specialist's language for occult and magical things specifically.) (If we did define a Nevarran language in some corner of the lore, now I'm going to feel embarrassed, but I don't BELIEVE we did.)" [source, two, three]

User: "I wanted to ask if you have anything you can share about MW grave dowry jewellery - is it the sort of thing they keep on at all times? Also, would Emmrich like jewellery gifts or give them to Rook?" / Sylvia: "I figured it would be something they wear most of the time, or at least in public. You don't want to be without your grave-gold if you pass away! Emmrich would love to get jewellery, especially if it marked a special occasion like his other pieces do! He'd also probably like to gift Rook a piece of grave gold himself, though he knows a non-MW Rook might look at that part askance." [source, two]

User: "Question: how much if anything can you tell us about the circumstances surrounding the emergence of Emmrich's magic and him going to the Mourn Watch? In my mind, his parents' death could certainly be a catalyst for the emergence of mage powers, but I'm so curious why the butcher's boy goes to what seems the equivalent of Nevarran Harvard instead of a regular Circle unless he immediately demonstrated outstanding ability?" / Sylvia: So timeline wise, I think his magic manifested after he was taken in. This part isn't canon, so much as a background thought I had that maybe the spirits of the Necropolis nudged the MW to scoop up this future corpse-whisperer. It seems like a kind of place ripe for that sort of omen. That said, it could've also been a kindhearted Watcher who saw how shattered and alone this young boy was, and thought an upbringing in the Grand Necropolis would be the better place to deal with his grief. It's the kind of thing I want to leave open unless someone goes back one day to fill it out!" [source, two]

User: "what’s the overall Mourn Watch opinion on the whole Weekend at King Markus’s the other Mortalitasi are pulling? I can’t blame Emmrich for not wanting to be involved with that political mess!" / Sylvia: "No clue what you're talking about. King Markus is in the finest of health!!!!! ahahahahaha (To my mind Emmrich's response indicates a tension between the orders, but that they're going along with the polite fiction to avoid a mess. I can't say what the future holds though.)" [source]

User: "Ah, one last note: whoever decided “DA liches are immortal protectors and not always evil?” Chef’s kiss. It’s all I’ve ever wanted!" / Sylvia: "Thanks again! It was in Emmrich's first draft. The other writers and editors gave me good feeback on lichdom and the philosophy behind it especially" [source]

User: "I'm an ICU nurse, and that is imagined to confer a comfort with mortality. Suffice to say Emmrich has been a huge comfort to see." / Sylvia: "Thanks so much. I really wanted him to struggle with it while also engaging with it, because it's something I find hard as well. And I hoped it would find purchase with players." [source]

User: "If you’re willing, can you share a bit about the other orders within the Mortalitasi? Is there a rivalry with the Tevinter Imperium?" / Sylvia: I'm afraid I don't have much, sorry. I left the other Mortalitasi orders a big open canvas in case we wanted to invent more some day. (We've mentioned the palace Mortalitasi are separate from the Mourn Watch, so there's one. As you probably caught, Emmrich's not a fan of theirs.) Is there a rivalry with the Tevinter Imperium? I can't really point to anything in the game talking about that, so I hesitate to call it canon. But to my mind it would be very natural and also very funny. So if that ever manifests, I approve." [source, two]

User: "was any of Emmrich's design or personality modeled on British actor David Niven? I think there is resemblance just wondering if that was intentional." / Sylvia: "Oh I love David Niven. But the more direct actor influence for me was Peter Cushing in a few old Hammer Horror films." [source]

User: "just wanted to say thank you for creating the character of Josephine in Inq!! Helped me learn some stuff about myself when I was younger and meant a lot." / Sylvia: "Thank you so much on all counts! I'm glad the lovely Lady Montilyet was there for you (and enormous credit to her actor, Allegra Clark. She absolutely nailed Josephine, straight away.)" [source]

User, on Emmrich: "He mentions he thought he would marry - is that permitted for Mortalitasi when it wasn't for regular Circle mages? Can they now raise their own children?" / Sylvia: Mortalitasi have a lot of power. I imagine the Nevarran Chantry might grant them permission to marry outside the Circle more regularly than in places where mages are given less respect. (Mages can also marry within Circles, so no permission needed in those cases.) The same might be true for mages raising mage-born children in Nevarra, but I say that with less certainty. I think that's a topic I would've wanted to discuss with the rest of the narrative team." [source, two]

User: "is there a particular reason why emmrich is always wearing a glove on one hand?" / Sylvia: "I like to think it's mostly because he works a lot with his hands. The glove seems useful if he has to, say, grip a rough outcrop of rock when traversing the Necropolis, or deal with a bitey corpse." [source]

User, on Emmrich: "On my 1st run I played a trans Rook and romanced him. It felt incredible how he was so accepting of Rook's identity, and in return she could support him as he did a transition of his own as well. Beautiful mirroring!" / Sylvia: "Thanks very much! If those scenes worked, it's thanks to some people at work who kindly gave feedback that helped get the tone right." [source]

User: "I've been wanting to thank you for writing Luck in the Gardens for 4 years. Hollix was the first time I ever saw a non-binary character given a real voice." / Sylvia: "I loved writing Hollix in that story, they were a treat, and I'm glad they meant a lot to you. (And a shout out to a nb friend who gave me some good feedback on the character, I don't think the story would've been as clear without their help.)" [source]

User: "I was curious about Audric from TN, and if he originally was planned to have an appearance in veilguard, and what he's up to now" / Sylvia: "Love Audric, but I never planned to bring him into VG. I'm not AGAINST it, but I didn't want the short stories to feel like required reading for the game, and I liked where his arc ended in DatDM. That said, I dropped in a few references to Audric to let people know he's around and well. And I imagine he's doing what he loves: being a force of order, in the library. (And reading books during the more quiet hours below.)" [source, two]

User: "As a consumer of (and probably future creator of) so called "erotic" fanficfion, I'm wondering how you feel about the fact that fans make it about a character you created?" / Sylvia: "No issues with it whatsoever. We put sex and romance into the game itself, after all. I think people use fan art and fanfiction to extend their time with a story they've grown fond of, or to figure things out. So it feels like a natural extension of that." [source]

User: "Maybe one day my rook will join the mw!" / Sylvia: "Well, the Grand Necropolis is always eager for more company...🪦👻" [source]

User: "did the flame eternal (short story) come first or the flame eternal (quest)? i’ve been wondering if the quest was named after the story or vice versa" / Sylvia: "I wrote the scene first, the short story came after. But I named the quest AFTER the short story had come out, so I'd say the quest is named for the story because I liked the callback." [source]

User: "1.I know John answered already that Emmrich sleeps like a horse but is there really no bed for this man? 2.How would he react to a bouquet made for him?" / Sylvia: "1. Unknown. Perhaps he brings out pillows and a blanket for the slab in his room (after scrubbing it, of course!) Perhaps he goes home to an elaborate silk-covered bed in his Necropolis apartments. Or the horse thing. (TBH: I never decided myself, so I've leaned into impish mystery). 2. Emmrich would be absolutely delighted and flattered by being presented with a flower bouquet." [source, two]

User: "I hope it's okay to pop here but it might interest you to know a lot of us have been headcanoning that he has a secret bedroom behind one of his bookshelves! It seemed to line up with his sensibilities somewhat." / Sylvia: "That would honestly be great. Pull out the right book and snooze time." [source]

User, on the cemetery date: "This makes me feel like Mourn Watchers include the dead in important personal milestones/events and, if so, I love that so much. Like they want to share these events and the joy/love/excitement/etc. with those who have passed (and perhaps linger.)" / Sylvia: "That's absolutely how I thought of it too." [source]

User: "was there any game/book/show/film that inspired the Mourn Watch and Emmrich? When I saw them in the preview content, I got reminded of the Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir and playing through the game cemented those vibes." / Sylvia: "I hadn't read any Locked Tomb when writing Emmrich, I think we must both just have impeccable taste. (I actually tried to stay away from contemporary stuff on necromancy when writing him, out of a superstitious fear I'd be unduly influenced. I do want to talk about influences later though!)" [source]

User, on Josie: "Do you think she’s open to having kids/adopting with the Inquisitor? Lord Ontranto and Yvette are so ahead!" / Sylvia: "I think that falls firmly within the category of what you imagine she and your Inquisitor's romance looks like, which means: absolutely, if that's where you imagine life would take them." [source]

User: "Emmrich, his story & everything surrounding him absolutely played a huge part in helping to lift me up & connecting me with new friends online" / Sylvia: "Thank you! And I'm very glad to hear Emmrich and his fellow Watchers helped you out when you needed it. He'd be pleased to know so himself." [source]

User: "Was it ever considered for him to appear in the game?" / Sylvia: "(short answer is no, but I wanted to let people know Audric's doing well.)" [source]

User: "I enjoyed your short stories in Tevinter Nights. Emmrich mentioned working out in the morning. What does his morning routine look like, and what kind of exercise does he do?" / Sylvia: "Thanks so much! Those stories have a special place in my heart, so that's especially nice to hear. On exercise: He likes a brisk stroll, and does morning stretches, and for something more strenuous, he likes to go swimming. Why? It's a workout where you don't have to worry about sweating. That just seemed to align with his fastidiousness in a funny way to me. (I also imagine exploring the Necropolis keeps him active, climbing all those stairs and crumbling ledges and the outsized walls of hallowed tombs, etc.)" [source, two]

User: "Harding will turn to a MW Rook who's been talking nerdy necro shop with Emmrich, and goes (paraphrasing), "You're so different when you're talking about this stuff than you are when you hang out with us!" and I loved that" / Sylvia: "Yes indeed! And thanks. I really wanted a beat where you realize MW Rook has learned to swap between being a fancy nerd and talking a bit more like "regular" people in Thedas. It seemed like a fun trait for that background." [source]

Sylvia, on how she came to BioWare: "No formal training. The closest to practice I had was running tabletop RPGs for friends, which actually helped me a lot with understanding the different kind of RPG players out there and what people want out of a story. And honestly: I just kept applying, over and over. That was my main virtue. I was rejected the first couple times I applied to BW. And rightly, I think, I wasn't ready and practicing in between really helped me become a stronger writer." [source, two]

Some more on this topic ^ from Sylvia: "To be honest: mostly luck, some perseverance, and then writing skills, in that order. I was rejected at least twice from BW before I got in, and I think they were right to do so. I wasn't ready yet. The third round someone I knew passed on my sample to a writer there, I did two more rounds of samples while taking feedback and revising over the next month. And then I was lucky enough they liked it enough to interview me. I wish I had better advice than perseverance. I think having a small, completed game, even something text based or a mod, isn't bad either. Even if it's short, it shows you finished it. But: my entry was over 15 years ago now, and to be honest I'm not sure what BW's applicant process are anymore. I don't want to be discouraging though. I would say keep applying, and make friends with like minded people who also want to make games, and best of luck." [source, two, three, four]

User: "I've been wondering something about Mourn Watch Rook's background - their bio says they were found as a baby + raised by the MW, and they reference it in-game, but then they also say they were a street kid and left their old life behind to join the MW to Taash. I'm just curious how one - being raised by the MW - lead to the other - street kid era. I just hc'd it as a euphemism for my Rook's party girl phase lol but it did leave me a little confused." / Sylvia: "This is a case of the background changing slightly over time, and me not squaring it in time with dialogue. In my mind: MW IS found by the Mourn Watch, raised by them, and work for them. But MW Rook also had period(s?) growing up where they explored Nevarra city, to explain why they're more. street savvy and worldly than your typical Watchers who never leave the city. I've seen people noting some discrepancies, and in a perfect world I would've caught those lines in time to smooth them out to encompass the whole story. But perhaps your Rook gives slightly different answers to different people for their own, mysterious reasons! (Or, in reality, it's writer error.)" [source, two, three] "Anyhow, I encourage any head canons that help square these discrepancies" [source]

User: "I romanced him on a Rook that I perceived as about 42ish and my running interpretation of the lines acknowledging her being young were either Emmrich not realizing how old she is, a running bit between them, or some cute form of flattery to not remind her of her own age haha" / Sylvia: "That's adorable, I love it" [source]

User: "1. What would Josie's ideal date be? 2. Could adopted kids be heir of the Montilyet estate or would it go to Yvette? 3. What does Josie think of the Crows?" / Sylvia: "1. I think she'd try to structure something, but the Inquisitor taking her away from her strictly scheduled routine to relax would actually be better for her. A picnic in a garden, a stroll around a lake followed by a meal in a quiet little restaurant. Something with a soft evening. 2. I don't think I ever said so in the game, but to my mind Josephine had some nieces and nephews in line to be heir. If she adopted a child and thought they'd be a better candidate, they could absolutely inherit the estate. (And of course, she could bequeath money or personal effects as she liked.) 3. She thinks of them as a necessity in Antiva, and that it's important to appease them. There's probably highly placed Crows she would get along with. But she'd never be comfortable with them. At the end of the day they're contract killers, and she's no lover of violence. (If I actually DID mention who Josephine had lined up to inherit the estate after her, but just forgot, I will ask for mercy because the game came out over 10 years ago.)" [source, two, three, four]

User: "Would you ever consider making a playlist on spotify of the sort of music you could picture Emmerich listening to? Or perhaps sharing any of the music you listened to while writing Emmrich?" / Sylvia: "I actually have an itunes playlist of what I listened to when writing Emmrich on my old computer. If I dig it out, I'll post a screenshot! (A lot of ambient stuff, probably unsurprisingly)" [source]

User: "I utterly, completely adore the way Josephine was written, she's such a wonderful and complex character. Her history as a bard, her ruthlessness, her kindness and sweet nature and how CUTE her romance is." / Sylvia: "Lady Montilyet herself would be flattered to hear you liked it." [source]

User, on Sylvia's comment about Peter Cushing being a go-to for what Emmrich would be like: "This makes me so unbelievably happy given my love for Peter Cushing 😭 my love for Emmrich was inevitable." / Sylvia: "I want to talk a little more about it later but Cushing was such a wonderful actor. Wish we'd had him around even longer." [source]

User, on death and working in death care: "In the end, it’s always about memory." / Sylvia: "That's so true. We want to be remembered, or to have something that lets people know even a little about who we are. (It's why I'm glad newspapers still print obituaries, you can read about the most amazing lives.)" [source]

User: "I was starting to think the game was reading my mind and tailoring to me once he said his favorite color was lilac, and I was given the option to say darker purple." / Sylvia: "I'm glad you enjoyed Emmrich and his romance. And that the bit about colours worked for you, I was trying to think of what would be something fun there, and purple is one of my favorites too. (Fine taste!)" [source]

User: "“Down Among the Dead Men” is one of my favorite chapters from Tevinter Nights. I loved Audric and I was so happy when Myrna mentioned him in Veilguard! Was there any chance he might’ve appeared in game?" / Sylvia: "basically I didn't plan it, but I wanted to let TN readers know Audric is living well" [source]

User: "If Hezenkoss was also you ALL of that was a sheer stroke of brilliance!" / Sylvia: "Thank you! Hezenkoss was me, so glad you liked her. She was a blast to write. Oh my god, I meant to write Hezenkoss was one of my favorites not "me". (I think I snipped out something and consequentially sound like a maniac in that post above. SORRY. She is not me, I wish I had that kind of confidence.)" [source, two]

User, on behalf of their friend: "Well, spontaneously I'd be interested if she can say any more about Emmrich's past romances. Was there someone really serious among them, or all just fun and casual? I'm also curious how the whole mage training works in Nevarra. Are some trained from the start by the Mourn Watch or does everyone go to the Mortalitasi equivalent of a Circle first?" / Sylvia: "1. I think there was probably a mix of more serious romances and more casual ones over Emmrich's life. The serious ones just never panned out. (Until Rook, if you're romancing him.) 2. I pictured the MW taking in promising members from other circles, but I left their selection criteria vague on purpose, in case we needed to define it later. Of course, there's also exceptions. We've seen they take in some orphans or foundlings (MW Rook and Emmrich, for example) when fate, chance, or pity allows it. (I had an idea spirits might sometimes nudge MWers to take in someone, but that's not in the game, so it remains, I suppose now, my own head canon.)" [source, two, three, four]

User: "Emmrich is every bit the warm and kind academic that I looked up to in my undergrad/postgrad days, and I have taken time in the game just to wander the Grand Necropolis and take everything in." / Sylvia: "My pleasure, and thanks very much for saying so. (Props to all my teammates, it took a lot of people to bring those characters and places to life, and they were all so enthusiastic about our weird gothy corner of Thedas.)" [source]

User, on Emmrich's dream: "One of few cases where writers don't go for "actually immortality is lame" lesson to appease the audience for whom immortality is unattainable. Refreshing to have a character who wants to live forever, can do it, and it isn't treated as a mistake. One of the boldest bits of writing in the game." / Sylvia: "Thanks Mary - that was one of my aims, because so many times in stories, immortality is a fool's errand. I wanted it to have its rules, and its price, but not something disastrous or out of reach." [source]

User: "The MW as a whole was beautifully done and the way they handle life and death was deeply healing and aided tremendously in my own personal journey with grief." / Sylvia: "I'm very glad meeting Emmrich and the Watchers helped even a little, that means a lot to hear." [source]

User: "Amazing work in veilguard and inquisition honestly and the flame eternal was such a fun read! Unless it’s been answered before my query is where do the Mourn watchers live/sleep? Is it a case of they live in the higher parts of the Necropolis or do they live in the city and commute?" / Sylvia: "Flame Eternal was a fun one, hadn't written a story that short before but I enjoyed introducing Johanna and Emmrich's dynamic back in their good old days... As to your question, there's one line of banter between Emmrich and Neve that talks about this (so, very easy to miss.) The Mourn Watchers live and sleep in the upper (safer) levels of the Necropolis." [source, two]

User: "does mortal!Emmrich return to the Necropolis or spend more time in the world first? He plays detective with Neve & camps in Ferelden with Harding feels like he’d want to experience more of the world before returning home." / Sylvia: "Impossible for me to say what the future will hold with certainty, but I think Emmrich's enjoying exploring the world too much to go back to living in the Necropolis full time just yet. He'd certainly want to keep visiting regularly, but there's so much more to see." [source]

Sylvia: "The Watchers have a special place in my heart." [source]

User: "I just wanted to say how much I love Emmrich" / Sylvia: "Thank you very much! I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed getting to know him." [source]

at this point tumblr stopped letting me add to this post !

[bittersweet-jack-of-no-trades]

Stan was no stranger to insomnia.

It started when he was a teen: jealous of his brother's strict sleep schedule, Stan would lie awake for hours, staring at their bare ceiling. No specific fears haunted him at this point in his life; a general sense of uncertainty permeated his waking hours, and chased him into the night. The night after their high school principal told Ford about West Coast Tech (and called Stan useless), he couldn't even move or blink in his sordid state of sleeplessness--- little more than a husk on his blue bed sheets.

Then he was kicked out, and there was no time or place to sleep as he stumbled across the country. Time spent sleeping was unsafe, unproductive, unprofitable, unpredictable--- the night was for scratching off lotto tickets, rationing cigarettes, and thinking about the past. Sleep was a luxury Stan couldn't afford and a privilege he had never truly been granted.

His time in Gravity Falls was one of a waking nightmare. Hours upon hours, he laid on his brother's dirty couch in his disaster of a house; even bone-deep exhaustion and mental squalor from working on the portal wasn't enough to drive him into the bowels of REM. He wandered the halls of his brother's house like a ghost, leaving his haunted touch on the wallpaper, the walls, the furniture, and the lab.

Then Dipper and Mabel came, and an inescapable fear for their safety--- for their reaction to him--- kept him awake. It was a night of insomniac wondering that he heard the twins' conversation about leaving, how the only reason they stayed was due to chance. That gnaws on him more than any sleepless night--- how to be a Grunkle that could be trusted? How to be a person that could be trusted? if he became a good person, would he be allowed to rest?

He, obviously, did not sleep during Weirdmageddon. Sometimes, he would close his eyes, and even without fulling slipping into slumber, would see his brother cast in gold or his brother being tortured or his brother dying. He kept his eyes wide open as long as possible.

The afternoon after Mabel's scrapbook helps him get his memories back, he and Ford are sitting on the back porch sipping sweet tea (the finest victory beverage). Ford is rambling on about their childhood and adolescence, pushing Stan to remember. He must notice Stan's wavering conviction, though, because he stops and puts a hand on Stan's shoulder.

"Best part of all of this," Ford tells him joyfully, "you'll finally be able to get some rest!"

"Sure," Stan nods, but he's doubtful. That night, he doesn't sleep, mind spinning with half-remembered snippets of his life, painful threads of a story he's not even sure he wants to fully recall. He knows the exhaustion more than any specific memory, however: it's a pervasive emotion--- an immutable quality of himself--- that he was rid of only in those few moments when his fist connected with Bill's brick-and-dream body.

He doesn't sleep as they rebuild the Mystery Shack, and he doesn't sleep as they build the Stan o' War II, and he doesn't sleep even with the aid of the gentle oceanic waves. He doesn't complain, or worry, or try to fix it--- this fatigue, he knows, is a part of him. As far as he's concerned, though, it's a good tradeoff.

Stan would happily be unthinkably exhausted for the rest of his life, would never get another wink of sleep, would never have another dream--- if it meant keeping his family. If it kept his family safe, if it kept them alive, he would forgo any mention of rest; he would embrace the dark ravines of weariness. As long as his family could dream for him, he would be content. That's all he dreamed of asked for.