#makes her acknowledge everything that has happened to her

[nu-suave]

YOUR FRIENDLY(?) NEIGHBOURHOOD(?) SPIDER-MAN feat. getou suguru

꒰ 2.4k꒱ there’s something up with your roommate, and you’re determined to figure out what it is and what spider-man has to do with it.

Despite what people may think, you’re not stupid; there’s something up with your roommate, and Spider-Man is somehow involved with it. Getou Suguru had been perfectly normal up until Spider-Man’s debut. More accurately, he’d normally been perfect. He never left dishes out, never randomly brought friends over without warning, never left washing lying around, you both evenly split chores with little argument, and he was so conscientious you occasionally mused over the idea of him even being real. He didn’t hog the bathroom even with a meticulous skincare and hair routine – rather, at some point you two ended up doing it together. You’d be pressed shoulder to shoulder in your small shared bathroom, rubbing moisturiser into your skin while he brushed his teeth, idle chatter exchanged throughout.

Then Spider-Man happened. Which isn’t to say you hate the guy – all in all, you think he’s pretty noble. Not many people would have the guts to do what he does, yourself included, and you know Suguru has a quiet admiration for the man, no matter how much he plays it down. No number of he’s just doing what he can or he could always be doing more for the community is going to change your mind. If you were to ask your best friend, who’s somehow gotten it in her head that you’re in love with the man and now spams you with roughly thirty edits of the vigilante a day, you’re his biggest fan. The problem is that he’s got something to do with Suguru, and whatever that is, your roommate is visibly falling apart.

He stays out later and sleeps in to hours he’d previously considered ridiculously late. You’ll wake up some mornings to the bathroom an absolute mess; items knocked over, something toppled into the sink, water dripping all over the floor, and the medicine cabinet torn apart. He neglects his chores, neglects his self-care routine, neglects everything. Despite the rapidly increasing hours outside of the house, his friends have confided in you that they’ve barely seen him; likewise, any conversation with him has halted abruptly. There’s no mutual skincare when he’s either sleeping or out, that horrid, filthy word; I’m going out, or I’ll be out tonight, or I’ll be out late, don’t stay up for me that has rapidly become the most popular phrase in his vocabulary. 

You’ve been silently supporting him, cleaning up where he’s had no energy to. That doesn’t change the feeling settling under your skin, the quiet acknowledgement that something is very, very wrong. Tonight, you’re going to do something about it.

Which leads to the present moment: you, a bag in hand and your heart thundering in your chest and a tender bruise purpling on your collarbone, two men, passed out in front of you, and the man of your most recent ire, Spider-Man, your newfound saviour. You stare at his face, because you’re angry at him, and if your eyes dart even slightly downward all you’re going to be thinking of are those edits your friend loves sending you. That, or the two unconscious would be muggers on the floor before you.

You know Spider-Man has something to do with what's affecting Suguru, because you’d sneaked a look in his bedroom and found the photowall his best friend’s Gojou and Ieiri forced him to make completely replaced with Spider-Man hit pieces. He’d written notes, for God's sake, and you’re a little (read: incredibly) worried Spider-Man has somehow done something to either turn him into a die-hard fanboy hellbent on being his sidekick or a soon-to-be supervillain. You’re not sure which is worse.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart?”

You startle, abruptly refocusing on Spider-Man and his dumb, stupid eye lenses. Eyes narrowing, you readjust your grip on your bag. “I’m fine.” You say shortly, and decidedly do not mention the fact he called you sweetheart. He doesn’t call people sweetheart. You know this, because of all the soundbites attached at the start of those godforsaken edits, sweetheart has never been there. 

Okay, maybe it’s a little embarrassing you’re using that as your point of reference.

He doesn’t leave, even though he’s Spider-Man and should probably be stopping another three crimes right now. Instead, he steps closer – you step back. He halts. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” 

“Alright. Where are you going?”

You take another step back, eyes darting to the edge of the street behind you. “What’s it to you?” 

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His hands raise in a sign of surrender, hanging in clear view of you at the sides of his head. “I’m just worried. It’s risky for someone as pretty as you to be out so late alone with nothing to defend yourself.”

Someone as pretty as you– you cut that off for your own safety. Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. In the end, you blink dumbly; he watches you, and you suddenly, viciously hate that you can’t see his face. He’s probably laughing at you right now, and you have no idea. “...Pretty?”

“Was that too much?”

Oh. Spider-Man is conscientious. “Um, no. It’s fine. Sorry. I just, um, wasn’t expecting it.”

“Really? I’d have thought–”

“Okay, maybe it is a bit much.” He immediately shuts his mouth. Stupidly, you kind of regret it, but you can’t be getting side-tracked right now. You’re going to be embarrassed enough recalling this memory, no need to make it worse by collapsing out of embarrassment or some other, worse alternative. “I was just heading home. I, uh, bought groceries.”

“It couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?” He asks. “Crime has been up around here lately. You couldn’t have gotten a friend to come with you?”

Spider-Man is scolding me right now, you think, a bit hysterically. Whatever. FIne. This is normal. “Um. No. I need it now.”

“Really? It couldn’t have waited until the morning?”

“No.” You say forcefully. “It’s for my roommate.”

“Your roommate.” His tone falls flat. You squint at him, and he jolts. “I mean, uh, what does your roommate need so bad? Did he ask you to get something?”

“It’s none of your business.” You hug your bag closer to your chest. Spider-Man, the root of whatever is causing this change in Suguru, doesn’t deserve to know. Wait. Pause.

Wouldn’t he be the perfect person to tell? His voice got all wonky when you mentioned a roommate, so maybe he knows Suguru is your roommate? And if he does in fact know that, doesn’t that mean he in some way knows Suguru? Which, as the cause of his stress, means that if you inadvertently guilt trip him by info-dumping, you could get righteous, conscientious Spider-Man to fix whatever is going on there? Or push him away, if crazy-fanboy-theory is right?

You ignore how full of holes your logic is.

“Walk me home.” You say. He stares. Squaring your shoulders, you tilt your chin up so you two are making proper eye contact, taking a step towards him. “What, is it an inconvenience?”

“No. No. It’s, uh, not an inconvenience.” You turn on your heel, continuing on your stroll to your apartment and ignoring the sound of his footsteps as he falls into step beside you. “I was under the impression that you weren’t too happy to see me.”

“Then why did you stick around?” You pause. There is a good reason to be surprised by your sudden change in attitude. “Sorry. I’m, uh, not in the best mood.”

“That’s okay.”

You clear your throat, training your eyes ahead of you. “It’s a surprise for my roommate.”

He fails to keep his tone even. “A surprise?”

“Yeah.” Your tongue darts over your lips. You need more chapstick. “He, um, has been feeling off lately. Stressed. Tired. He’s been, uh, leaving stuff around the apartment and he’s barely talking to me. I’m worried about him.”

“You don’t need to worry about him that much.”

“How would you know?” You ask pointedly. He doesn’t say anything in response. Twat. “He’s my roommate. You know, he hasn’t been taking care of himself. He’s got these deep bags under his eyes, he’s barely bothering to take care of his hair, and he’s been taking a bunch of paracetamol lately. He’s going through, like, three times the usual amounts of coffee, and he’s staying out so late that he’s sometimes still not home when I wake up. We haven’t hung out in ages, did you know his friends talked to me because they were so worried? And I can’t even talk to him, because when he’s not sleeping, he’s out. God, he’s always out nowadays. I don’t even know where he’s going, but he’s there all the time, and he won’t tell anyone, and–”

Spider-Man makes a vague shushing sound, impossibly soothing and impossibly familiar. “It’s okay, angel. I’m sure he appreciates being this cared about.”

“He better.” You huff, an intelligible feeling caught in your throat. You clear it, eyes skittering to the pavement beneath your feet. “I just- he’s really worrying me, you know? He’s a good person. Such a good person. I’m worried about what has him like this, but I don’t want to push him, so it’s like, how am I supposed to figure it out?”

“Maybe he can’t tell you.”

“That doesn’t help.” You groan, running a hand over the bridge of your nose. “But, um, I wanted to change that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I know that it’s not going to make him more likely to tell me or anything, but I wanted to cheer him up.” Your fingers tighten on the strap of the bag, flexing and unflexing. You adjust your grip only for a covered hand to offer itself, palm up as his fingers linger on your arm. You pass him the plastic bag. “I don’t know when he gets home, so I was going to make Suguru his favourite and I’ve bought a bunch of snacks. I rented out his favourite movie – it’s this obscure film from the 80’s that he loves – and I’ve bought a new bottle of nail polish, I’ve got a face mask, I just thought… maybe I could incentivise him to calm down, and take a moment to spend time with me. I even bought scented candles. How dumb is that?”

“I think he’s going to love it.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” His voice is firm and, when you glance at him, his face is turned towards you. Through the thin fabric of his suit, his adam's apple bobs as he swallows. “I think that’s incredibly thoughtful of you, and he’d be stupid to not appreciate it. It’ll make him really happy, I promise.”

“I hope so,” you mutter. “Sorry for being a little rude earlier.”

“It’s fine. You were startled, there’s no need to apologise.”

“Still. I’m sorry.” Your hands move to rub at your cheeks, your palms warm against the chill of the night. “I, um.”

“You?”

“No, nevermind. It’s dumb.”

“Nothing you say is dumb,” he says sweetly, because Spider-Man is apparently the sweetest man you’ll ever meet, second only to Getou Suguru. “Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen. There’s no judgement here.”

You hum in reply, breathing in deeply and letting the air linger in your lungs before you exhale. You’re clearly not the mastermind you thought you were; that wasn’t so much guilt-tripping as it was venting, and there’s no repressed guilt floating about Spider-Man. If there is, he’s hiding it remarkably well. How embarrassing. You just vented your heart out on accident to a vigilante – a very attractive vigilante, might you add – and for what? A bit of catharsis? Suddenly, intensely, you feel like a piece of shit.

“Thanks,” you say finally. “That’s really nice of you.”

You both fall into an awkward silence. For a long moment, the only thing that sounds around you is the passing stream of traffic; someone rolls down the window of their car to hell ‘ayo, Spider-Man!’ as you walk past. It’s only as you near your apartment that you ask yourself; why did he even walk you home? Surely it wasn’t just because you told him to. How does he know where you live?

Well, there’s a rational answer to that. He probably was just silently following you as the two of you walked. But then again, shouldn’t he have asked? Aren’t vigilantes all about like, secrecy and secret identities? Wouldn’t he want to know where he was taking you?

All good questions, you’re sure, and all incapable of being answered.

“Thank you for walking with me,” you say finally, instead of why did you? Don’t you have a dozen other people you could walk home right now? “Um, stay safe. Thank you again.” There’s an awkward shuffle as you reach for your bag, fingers curling around the plastic as you tug it off his arm and he makes no move to help you. You offer him a small, hopeless smile.

“Hey,” Spider-Man says softly, “cheer up a little. I really think your roommate’s gonna love it.”

You huff. “I can only hope.” You tug the bag close against your chest, ducking your head in greeting. “Have a good night.”

Then you’re turning your back to him. You immediately hear the little thwip that must be the projectiles he uses to transport himself – you’ve heard they’re webs, but there’s no way he’s that into the gimmick – and, when you turn to look at where he once stood, no one’s there. Oh well. It’s not like you were going to invite him inside; you have a meal to make for Suguru for when he inevitably gets home at some ridiculous hour.

When you enter your apartment, you take a moment to just stare. Suguru is before you, breath coming in quick, short pants as he shoves a shirt over his head, showing for a half a second the broad expanse of his back.  His hair is an uncharacteristic mess and, when he looks over his shoulder at you, there’s a fond curve to his eyes.

“Hi,” Suguru says, breathless and his cheeks lined with a soft shading pink. “Sorry, I just got back from a run.”

You blink at him, and decide not to ask what he was doing going for a run at 11pm. “It’s okay. I was getting stuff for dinner. I was, uh, hoping we could maybe have a movie night? We haven’t hung out much lately so, you know.”

His lips crack into a soft, warm smile. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

i genuinely wish i was better at writing because this does not do the concept of spider-man!suguru justice. is the pacing dog? yes. is the writing dog? yes. god i wish i had the energy to properly flesh this out.

[childofchaosnic74]

Rant time: hotd spoilers ahead

This is my personal opinion, you're free to disagree, just be civil about it.

I don't agree with those who say that it's impossible to "defend" Alicent here after episode one with Alicole happening (and I say this as someone who is not a fan of the pairing)

Cause honestly, she did her duty for years, she sacrificed everything, her whole life and self, for her husband, for her children and for the realm, so now that she has fewer obligations in that sense I think it's perfectly ok for her to seek something for herself. Side note, having her be unecessarily "punished" again and made to feel guilty (after b&c) for the one time she has a consensual relationship is such an uninteresting choice imo (we've seen more than enough of that in s1).

And as to the argument that she's a hypocrite because she slut shamed Rhaenyra and then had an affair with Criston, I find it kinda irrelevant, cause of several reasons, the way I see it that was never truly the point of her criticism of Rhaenyra and also, so many other characters in this story are "hypocrites" but that doesn't make them bad or unlikeable or any less compelling (ex: Rhaenys, Rhaenyra, Otto, Daemon, Criston and a good chunk of the other characters too) .

As I've said before, the way I see it, Alicent was angry at her because Rhaenyra acted selfish and entitled several times, not thinking about the consequences to other people (examples: Rhaenyra almost sleeps with Daemon and then with Criston, is seen and risks her position as heir, Alicent defends her and that ends up costing her her greatest -perceived-ally -Otto- then Rhaenyra sleeps with Harwin, producing obvious bastards that will inevitably weaken her claim, therefore putting Alicent's children in even more danger, and doesn't even acknowledge it, fast forward Aemond loses an eye because of Rhaenyra's refusal to admit the truth -even to her children, causing them, especially Jace, to develop a huge complex about their true parentage-, so we see that again and again the people who suffer the consequences of Rhaenyra's actions are almost always others, mainly Alicent and her family). It's like Rhaenyra does whatever she wants and it's always Alicent that pays the price for her actions. Of course she's gonna be frustrated and angry and the teachings of the faith are mostly a convenient way for her to justify her feelings to herself and to others without showing just how much she cares and how wounded she is by this chasm between them.

Also if we follow the logic that Alicent is awful and deserves to be hated because she's a hypocrite for shaming Rhaenyra, then Rhaenyra should get just as much hate cause she was the one who slut shamed and victim blamed Alicent for marrying Viserys first even though she had no choice in the matter at all.

I personally think that reading the "where is duty, where is sacrifice?" line and Alicent's criticism of Rhaenyra as just Alicent slut shaming her is quite reductive and does not do justice to the characters and the complexity of their relationship.

To me it's clear (as Rhaenyra says) that Alicent "hides beneath the cloak of her own righteousness" (the faith) because her real reasons to resent Rhaenyra are way more personal and vulnerable and ugly, but admitting that betrays how deeply she actually feels for Rhaenyra.

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Onset - Chapter Two.

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen/JJK Pairing: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character Characters: Geto Suguru, Valerie (OC) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Established Friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, Self-Insert, Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Creampie, Brief mention of an inability to get pregnant, Unprotected Sex, Cunnilingus, if I tagged everything we’d be here all day, This is part of a series

Part 3 of Sundane

Previous Part: Egg Fried Rice

Previous Chapter: One

Summary:

He isn’t expecting her to throw his earlier words back at him that way, and it catches him off-guard. “Why do you always remember the dumb shit I say?”

“Was it dumb?”

“It wasn’t absolute,” he mumbles. He pauses, knowing that if he says what he wants to say next, he’ll kick himself for it.

He says it anyway. “Sometimes one slips through the cracks, you know,” he adds softly. “Sometimes, there’s one that really is special.”

Read on AO3

“I’m sorry about what I said.”

She’s started to doze off when he says it, and it takes her sluggish, sated brain a few seconds to catch up with her ears. “What?” 

Shit. He’s torn between two feelings. The first is annoyance that she hasn’t somehow magically read his mind and figured out what he’s apologizing for. He doesn’t want to have to explain himself. He wants her to know why he’s sorry, so they can move past it and forget it happened.

The second, more prominent feeling is that pang of guilt that’s resurfaced, sticking in his side and reminding him that he actually does owe her an apology for what he said earlier. He once again pushes that pang of guilt back into the abyss, but the residual feelings that linger leave him wanting to clear the air. “What I said earlier,” he sighs. “About you not being able to get pregnant. I know it’s a sore spot for you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says with a shrug. “It’s not like you to feel sympathy for something like that, and it isn’t something other people care about either.”

He lifts his head from her stomach to look up at her. She’s smiling, but he gets the feeling it’s because she thinks she should be. “You wanna talk about it?”

Her fingers pause in their movement in his hair as she considers his face. His expression is open, non-judgmental, as if meant to make her feel like she can continue talking about this if she wants to. Part of her wants to spill everything - to tell him these feelings that she’s never shared with anyone else. But part of her feels like talking about this with Suguru would be like opening a door she won’t ever be able to close again. 

She is still contemplating opening that door when she feels the soft warmth of Suguru’s lips against her skin. It’s a gentle kiss on her hip, and she thinks it feels a little like encouragement.

“Well,” she starts softly, resuming her gentle strokes through his hair. “You’re right, it’s a sore spot. The thing itself is something that I know I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life, and I can deal with it. But whenever people find out, they only ever acknowledge the thing itself. They don’t acknowledge all the complicated feelings that come with it. 

“It isn’t a choice I wanted to make,” she goes on. “And if I’d had the ability to choose otherwise, I would have. People who have gotten to choose - and who still can - don’t seem to understand that. So when they say things like ‘you’re not missing anything’ and ‘you’re lucky you still have your freedom,’ it just ends up feeling like… like they’re invalidating how I really feel and telling me how they think I should feel instead.” She pauses. “Enjoying the life that I have now and feeling like I’m missing out on that thing I can’t have aren’t mutually exclusive, you know?”

“I get it,” Suguru muses. “Kinda like somebody who insinuates you should be relieved that your chronically ill parent has finally died. Like, yeah, taking care of them and being worried all the time while they’re alive and sick is stressful and emotionally draining. But it doesn’t mean you want them to die, and it doesn’t mean you don’t miss them when they do.”

Stunned, she stares down at him. “Huh. Actually, yeah. That’s a pretty accurate comparison.”

Suguru is quiet for a long time. When he finally speaks, it isn’t to tease her or to make fun of what she’s told him. “Now that I know how you really feel about it,” he starts quietly, “I don’t think it’s something I could ever joke about. And I’m doubly sorry for making light of it before.”

She hates that there’s a lump in her throat, and so she speaks before that lump can manifest itself in tears. “Why are you being so sweet to me?”

“I told you I was giving you the princess treatment today.”

“Right,” she recalls. “It doesn’t hurt to make them feel special, even if they’re not. That’s what you said.” 

He isn’t expecting her to throw his earlier words back at him that way, and it catches him off-guard. “Why do you always remember the dumb shit I say?”

“Was it dumb?”

“It wasn’t absolute,” he mumbles. He pauses, knowing that if he says what he wants to say next, he’ll kick himself for it. 

He says it anyway. “Sometimes one slips through the cracks, you know,” he adds softly. “Sometimes, there’s one that really is special.”

His words hit her right in her chest, hard enough to make her take a deep breath. It’s on the tip of her tongue to ask - am I special? She bites the words back, unsure if she’d even want to know the answer. 

“Come on,” Suguru says, when it’s clear she isn’t going to speak. He sits up, taking hold of her hands.

“Where are we going?”

“You’re gonna wait for me in the shower while I change your sheets,” he tells her, pulling her up into a sitting position. “Unless you wanna sleep in a bed full of my sweat and cum,” he adds with a smirk. “Some people have a thing for that.”

“Wait for you?” She repeats, choosing to ignore the latter part of what he’s said. She lets him pull her off of the bed, lets him maneuver his rumpled shirt over her head so she can have something to give her a bit of warmth and some semblance of decency. 

Suguru himself doesn’t seem to care about warmth or decency as he begins stripping the bed of its sheets in only his skin. “Mmhm,” he murmurs patiently, pausing to push her in the direction of the bathroom on the other side of her bedroom. “I won’t be long. Run the water, yeah? Make sure it’s warm, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Stop reading into it, she scolds herself. This is all routine for him. “Right,” she laughs. “It always takes at least ten minutes for it to get hot.”

He makes an affirming noise and turns his attention back to the bed. She stands there for a moment longer - enjoying the view, she would say if anyone asks her - before turning away. 

--

He finds her in the bathroom a few minutes later. “Is it hot?” He nods in the direction of the shower. 

“Yeah.” She’s feeling suddenly awkward, ridiculously bashful. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

Puzzled, Suguru looks back at her. “If I wanted separate showers, I would’ve just showered in my own bathroom,” he points out. “I told you to wait for me so we could go in together,” he adds, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for the two of them to co-shower. 

“I know how to bathe myself,” she retorts. “I’m not a kid.”

“Good, because I don’t fuck kids,” he snickers. “What I do do, however, is make sure the adults I fuck are well-taken care of. Both in bed and outside of it,” he adds, tilting his head and leaning close so he can look her directly in the eye. “So you can either climb into the shower yourself, or I can lift you up and put you there. Whatever you like.”

She stays where she is long enough to say, “You said doodoo.” 

His palm just misses her ass as she scurries away. 

--

Showering is a functional thing; she knows that it’s meant to serve the purpose of getting a body clean. Even though she’s taken showers with lovers before (should she think of Suguru as a lover? While it’s true that they’ve had sex, she is hesitant to bestow that title on him just yet), she has never viewed anything about the act of showering in itself as sexy.

But she would be hard-pressed to deny that there is something incredibly erotic about the way her roommate-turned-bedfellow handles her in the shower. His touch is gentle, her washcloth an extension of his hands as he bathes her. Nothing that he does is designed to arouse her, but she finds herself marveling at how the way he’s touching her feels almost more intimate than what they’ve just done in her bed.

“You’re good at this,” she tells him, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the steady stream of water coming out of both showerheads. 

“I know,” he asserts, a smug expression on his face. “Aren’t you glad you waited for me?”

She leans forward, sinking her teeth into one of his pectorals. It isn’t meant to hurt, just to shut him up, and he yelps. Satisfied, she leans back to look at the faint little bite marks left behind.

“Haven’t you marked me up enough?” He grouses.

“I could say the same about you,” she shoots back. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t planning on wearing anything low-cut to work tomorrow.” 

“Dummy,” he laughs, reaching for the washcloth he’d brought in for himself. “You work from home. Who would see you anyway?”

She shrugs. “Zooms are still a thing, you know.” She watches him pour her peony-scented body wash onto his washcloth. “You’re gonna smell like me,” she warns.

“Where am I going that anybody would care? You like it enough to have it, and you’re the only one who’s gonna smell me.”

“Good point.” She watches him lather himself up for a few minutes longer. Then, “Let me help.”

He obliges her. When she gets to his back, she pauses. The scratches weren’t enough to draw blood, but she can see that she did end up breaking the skin in a few places. She’s careful when washing those spots, trying to emulate the gentle way he’d cleaned her. 

Suguru goes quiet for the duration of the time they’re in the shower, and she wonders what he’s thinking about.

--

“I don’t need that,” he protests, keeping his elbow raised to block her approach. 

“It takes six seconds for your skin to dry out once you’ve washed your face.” She’s brandishing one of her high-end skincare products like a weapon. “You should at least moisturize it.” 

“I don’t need it,” he repeats stubbornly.

“I beg to differ,” she sighs. “You may not see the difference right now, but you will in five or ten years.” 

He rolls his eyes at her but says nothing. Nor does he lower his arm.

“Suguru,” she huffs, exasperated. “You can’t expect to pamper me and not let me do the same for you.”

He looks down at her. “Is that what this is?” He motions to the bottle of moisturizer in her hand. “Is this your version of aftercare?”

“If I say yes, will you let me put it on you?”

She thinks he’s going to say no again. To her mild shock and utter delight, he lowers his defense arm and sits obediently on the closed toilet lid. “Fine,” he assents. “But just this once.”

“That’s what they all say,” she grins. “I’ll have you hooked on Dermalogica in no time.”

She treats his skin exactly the way she’s treated her own post-cleanse: toner, moisturizer, eye cream, and serum. She applies each product carefully, her touch gentle as she uses the pads of her fingers to massage the liquids and creams into his skin. 

“You do this every night?” He asks when she’s done, watching her line the bottles back up in the organizer on her vanity.

“Yep,” she tells him, her attention focused on what she’s doing. “Morning has a slightly different routine.”

He’s still sitting on the closed toilet lid. She’s within reach, straightening the other bottles and tubes in her organizer. It would be so easy to wrap his arm around her waist and bring her nearer to him, to pull her down into his lap. To cradle her close so he can breathe in the smell of her hair and feel her soft skin against his once more. So he can register her heart beating against his chest and put one hand against her back to feel her breathing.

His hand actually twitches with the urge. Shit, he thinks, as he balls the hand into a fist. What the fuck is wrong with me?

--

Valerie finds it curious, the way they’ve picked right back up where they left off, like slipping on a pair of well-worn pants. Suguru takes out the leftover fried rice that they’d had the presence of mind to put in the fridge and dumps it into a pan for reheating while she scrolls through their shared streaming apps to find something they can watch while they eat.

She’s been sure that it would feel awkward to spend time together the way they normally do after what’s transpired between them. If it weren’t for the soreness in her legs and the burgeoning love bites on her neck and chest, she would wonder if what they did was simply a figment of her imagination. Just further proof you are not one of the special ones, her brain reminds her, unsolicited. You never are, remember?

“Shut up,” she mutters back at it.

“What was that?” Suguru calls from the kitchen. “Couldn’t hear you.”

“I was just asking what you’re in the mood to watch,” she calls back.

“Pick whatever you want. All that stuff in the community queues is stuff we both wanted to watch, so it doesn’t really matter to me.”

She finally settles on a lighthearted comedy they’ve both watched before. It’s an old favorite and one that doesn’t require their full attention to follow. He seems pleased with what she’s chosen when he finally joins her, handing her a bowl and a spoon and settling next to her with his own food. 

Halfway through the third episode, she mutters, “I usually put on my headphones, you know.” 

Suguru turns to look at her, amused. “Is this a conversation I’m invited to join, or should I leave the room and let you continue?” He asks, pausing the show.

“I was talking to you,” she sighs. “You asked me - earlier - if I was gonna pretend I’ve never heard you jerking off.” She shrugs, fiddling with the blanket in her lap. “I have, but whenever I know you are, I just put my noise cancelers on for a while.”

“Why?”

She stares at him. “Because that’s private. It’s not something I should listen to.” 

“Maybe not.” He laughs. “But are you saying you wanted to?”

“Suguru.”

“What? It’s a fair question, isn’t it?” He shifts on the sofa, turning to face her full-on. 

“Actually, it isn’t,” she huffs with a laugh. 

“Can’t be that you’re embarrassed,” he goes on. He leans forward, a teasing smirk on his face and his eyes trained on hers. “You let me put a part of my body inside yours. Actually,” he amends thoughtfully, “I’ve had several parts of my body inside yours.” 

“You get on my damn nerves.” She snatches both bowls up and gets up to carry them into the kitchen. 

Of course he follows her. “You still didn’t say yes or no,” he insists. 

Valerie turns to him, offering him her sweetest smile. “It will be a cold day in hell before I do that, Suguru.” 

“Hmm.” He leans back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her load the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “I think the fact that you refuse to answer me is probably an answer within itself.”

“Fuck off.”

It only makes him laugh. “Fine,” he says finally. “You don’t have to tell me. But until you say otherwise, I’m just gonna assume the answer is yes.” 

Once again there are words threatening to escape her; she wants to tell him that he’s right, that she does want to hear him jerking himself off. But more than that, she wants it to be her he’s thinking of when he wraps his hand around himself and thrusts into his fist. She wants it to be her face he’s seeing when he closes his eyes, when he’s putting himself in danger of going lightheaded because it feels so good he’s forgetting to breathe. 

She says none of those things. “Keep dreaming,” she says, flashing him another sweet smile. “Let’s go - the tv’s probably timed out on us.” 

Something unreadable passes across his face, too quick for her to identify it. After the split second that she sees it, he smiles casually back at her, and whatever was beneath the mask he now wears is lost forever. “Yeah.”

About Me | My Fics | Ask

[butterflieswhisper]

hiiii ^^ beastlife fishie analysis. spoilers ahead. etc etc

okay so. the main point of this is simple. I don't think the salmon head cursed c!fishie. Explaining that is the harder part I think. also i'm going to refer to the salmon head thing in e5 as "the incident" from here on out because frankly i think it's funny

Let's start with the incident. The big day. etc. What happened? Why did it happen? Obligatory third questioning statement? Well. She was gifted the salmon head for her birthday by kiwi(or like. someone in the kiwibird system. -bird system. the birds). Immediately upon receiving it she relives parts of season one and fishie herself doesn't really acknowledge it. The other players definitely notice but im not caught up enough in any other pov yet to like have thoughts on that I'll come back to that point someday. Fishie seems shaken, sure, but she moves on so quickly, especially considering what happened just there. 37 seconds of standing frozen, unresponsive. she recovers in 5 seconds. And seeing how she reacts later on to realizing the memory situation--if she was aware that happened, she would probably be concerned by it. She puts it on for a brief second at the end of the party and takes it off immediately. She's otherwise normal -- well. as normal as she is otherwise up to that point. Because that is also how she acts with pretty much any salmon head, even just kiwi herself.

I raise: Episode one, about 8:20 in. The slow zoom on kiwi as the static overtakes every other noise. This is the *exact* same behavior displayed when fishie receives the salmon head, albeit without actual concrete old video footage style flashbacks. In episode two (28:55ish) the same thing happens when she looks at the salmon head in moch's house, but this time there is technically a flashback -- kiwis grave. Fishie moves on immediately and doesn't acknowledge her behavior at all, and, seeing as it is fishie, im inclined to believe that means she does not know she is doing it. Fishie (when alone) will discuss all of her problems in immense, and usually misguided detail (bestie i promise kiwi doesn't hate you???) to the audience and/or herself. I mean she's not alone in episode one, and it is technically presession, and i guess getting struck by lightning is a decent distraction from your problems, but in episode two? She is completely alone. There is nobody with her. She went looking for moch and moch is not there. She still doesn't acknowledge the fiveish seconds she is completely frozen. This happens again and again with kiwi and salmon heads.

And then that leads you to e5. The incident. She's. well. she's doing worse. 0:50. "This will distract me if i leave it up." This is the first mention from fishie herself about how fucking weird she's being, and even then she doesn't seem concerned. I think she does not realize she's being so so incredibly weird about it. If the static and freezing is what's referred to as "distraction" then keeping it in her inventory makes it worse actually so it wouldn't really make sense unless the way it is distracting her is NOT the. well. whatever the fuck is wrong with her (affectionate). After she puts the head on there's the static all the time but for a short brief amount of time she's like significantly more normal and i don't really know if that means anything i just think it's really funny.

And then we all know what goes on during the incident i'm not analyzing this video frame by frame. um. i could. but i am not going to right now. And then she has the conversation on the table with kiwi where she like is normal for 5 minutes. Like genuinely the most. i guess stable? fishie's thought process is is like in the moments directly after the incident. She is immediately understanding with the antikiwi situation, they come to an agreement that they're like. okay now. "thank you for everything and im so sorry i couldnt do more" / "it was short, but it was nice" "i knew what i was getting into when i married you" etc etc and then they kind of rush it at the end because people won't stop dying. But then fishie is fishie and takes it in the complete opposite extreme (from. um. whatever was wrong up until now. to "oh kiwibird must secretly hate me because" and then there's no real good reason she's just like that) and it's also an issue. And i think the season two memory thing is also a part of that but this is so long already and so i'm not going to get into it rn. So bringing all of this back to my original point: the salmon head was not the cause of the curse(?) because she's been so weird all the time forever and the salmon head thing was just like. an effect. of whatever went Wrong(tm) in the season transition. like the head was a vessel to Be Worse about it but i feel like it would have worked with any salmon head she got her hands on and that it happened to be kiwico was a coincidence and also that the head wasn't cursed at all there's just something deeply wrong with fishie s3 in general and uh yeah 👍

I'm so sorry this is so disjointed i had a thesis statement and everything. alas

[clonneclub]

The more I think about Laudna the more my heart breaks.

Laudna who died confused, whose last words she heard were "is she your favorite?" directed to Imogen, once again a casualty. Laudna, who in death wasn't surrounded by those she love, but by the embrace of her murderer.

Laudna, who might be resurrected, and if so will be standing on the same land she was killed and brought back alive before. Seeing the same tree she was once hung from. A town which she hasn't come back to in 30 years. A town which prospered in these years in the absence of the Briarwoods, while Delilah Briarwood lived rent free in her mind.

[autisticandroids]

FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.

[youtube with closed captions]

dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.

(via @closetoyou1970)

[korkorali]

I think the worst bit for me about all Those Sorts (you know the type) of fics is that they always take Della extremely out of character in order to make her the 'antagonist.'

And that sucks because it's just not necessary! It's the worst because you can have Della & Louie angst where Della's the 'antagonist,' and it's in-character.

You just have to have Louie be wrong in the end (kind of).

The reason why Della and Louie clash in Timephoon and Glomtales! isn't because Della 'disapproves of scheming in entirety' or something, it's because she's done the same goddamn thing as him.

(And side note- Timephoon is honestly an amazing piece of storytelling, because it allows us to see Della's thought process for taking the Spear of Selene by showing us Louie doing pretty much the same thing.)

She's been through it all before, and she knows how it ends.

And that fucking terrifies her! The idea that one of her kids is making the same mistakes as her, could go through the same thing as she did, and she's the only one who can see it, is terrifying.

The way to start out a story like this is simple; have an adventure go wrong. Not in a deadly way, not in a way that's caused by Louie (at least, not that anyone but him notices), not in a way that costs anyone their life- but in a way that causes them to lose the treasure. The adventure is a failure, and they have to come back empty handed, like New Gods on the Block.

Maybe some people get hurt, maybe it's vaguely Louie's fault (and even then- it'd be better if it wasn't even his fault, it's just his brain connecting patterns where there aren't any), but the most important part is that they don't get the treasure, and it's like- one of those ones that can only be found once every hundred years or something.

Louie feels responsible (I mean all of the kids do, but as it'd be a Louie story he'd be the one focused on) and upset that they want to all that trouble and don't have anything to show for it, so he tries to figure out some way to go on the adventure again.

Turns out, after a bit of research, there is a way to get to the treasure again! Louie brings it to Scrooge's attention excitedly- but Scrooge turns it down. Says it's too dangerous, that they're not doing it, end of story.

...Not end of story- everyone's still obviously miserable. So Louie decides that 'okay, if it's 'too dangerous,' then I'll just go in secret. It'll be fine, Scrooge is just overreacting.'

So he starts trying to put a plan into place to get the treasure in secret- but Della, somehow, seems to know what he's doing (hint: it's because she knows what she'd do if she was in Louie's shoes). And is consistently getting in his way.

And there you go- a perfect setup to have Della consistently and purposefully stepping on Louie's toes, getting in his way, trying to stop him from doing things, and it's even in-character! It'd probably start out with the two acting like everything's perfectly hunky-dory, even though both of them know that the other knows that they know that the other knows why they did this one thing.

As plans get deeper, it'd escalate to Della trying to actively call Louie out, but he always manages to just barely weasel his way out of it, and eventually commence his plan.

It obviously goes wrong. But Della's there to help. And finally she'd actually explain why the fuck she's been something of a thorn in his side for the past few weeks, why it seems like she knows what he's thinking: because she does.

Because she's been through the same thing.

Because she fucked up, and left her stranded on the moon for ten years, and she does not want that for her kid. (And of course everything could've been solved if she'd just sat down and talked to Louie about that at the onset, but it's Della- she only likes to bring up the moon when it's funny. She would've thought 'nah it's fine, I can handle this, I don't need to bare my soul, I shouldn't burden anyone with that' without realizing that oh yeah, no, that's the exact same thought process she doesn't want Louie to think)

And of course they'd argue, because it'd be a high-stress situation and neither of them would have the composure to pretend that everything's alright and they haven't been sniping at each other for the past week or so, and eventually it'd finally come up; eventually, they'd finally bring up that they thought the exact same thing when Louie did this, when Louie took the Timetub, when Della took the Spear.

'...And if anything goes wrong, at least I'm the only one who'll get hurt.' (Because you cannot tell me that that was not the last thought running through both of their heads when they took the timetub/Spear of Selene, you cannot convince me that they didn't think they were doing right by their families in that moment, that they hadn't done their due diligence and minimized risk down to one person.)

And Louie wouldn't understand, because he did the right thing. He minimized risk, he made sure nobody else would get hurt. But that's wrong- because if he got hurt, then Della (Donald, Scrooge, their family, her kids) would get hurt too. That they could fly into a vacuum all they wanted, but at the end of the day, they still didn't exist in one.

Eventually, they'd get out of there and abandon the mission again. Maybe they'd succeed, but probably not. But that's not important- what'd be important is that they were both safe and alive and okay.

There- a Della & Louie thing, extremely angsty, well Della as the 'antagonist,' and it's all in-character. Easy.

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

[discjude]

Yeah this is about right (as always my thoughts are in the tags so there's actually kei content there lmao)

[scrunkalicious]

FUUUUUUUCK JAYVIK UGGGGHH im begging they don’t try to push it next season, im gonna keep my expectations low but we have a chance to survive cuz its the last season

sending love and joy and whimsy ur way………

REAL. TYSM LUCY U A REAL ONE....

im hoping praying so so bad that they rlly go thru w the jayce and vik LoL lore in s2 BC THEYRE ENEMIEZ OK. LIKE DEADASS MACHINE HERALD AND DEFENDER OF TOMORROW CANT STAND EACH OTHER. riot thatd be soooo lovely pleabse,,,,

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

july 31, 2021 8:00 a.m. cathal and eimear's house

[areacode516]

thinking about deh again… like i think one of the things that makes deh age weirdly is that the latter portion of it is incredibly uncomfortable to sit through. and it doesn’t quite give you the full catharsis you expect (i.e full closure with all characters). so it gives you an exceptionally like. emotionally tense feeling. it’s so heavy. when i finished watching it the first time it took me like all night to process it and finally relax and sleep. i liked the discomfort a lot though, it’s rare that a story makes you sit through it and sit with it and doesn’t feed you the perfect happy ending.

the entire Moment of evan revealing everything to the murphys is like. not quite second hand embarrassment, it’s like. second hand “totally fucked” (spring awakening style) and second hand “i want to kms” (how can you not empathize with/have compassion for evan during words fail) and second hand pure desperation of wanting to be anyone else but yourself but also wishing you could want to be yourself.

but in the end the murphys DON’T totally fuck evan à la melchior gabor…like….because they got attached to him and still feel that attachment, because he helped them get closure, because they realize he was very troubled and the truth coming out could make him go out the same way as connor and they wouldn’t be able to stand the guilt and knowing they could have prevented it…again…that is SO compelling. it’s not even about redemption or forgiveness. his lies helped them, and if you’re really extraordinarily cynical, the lie (platitude) that you will be found (the original lie that evan was found by connor), that there’s always going to be someone who’ll come running also helps people…and it’s not really a lie if the musical itself found people, right….the layers of #ywbf in universe and out of it are insane and I honestly think a lot of them are unintentional considering. but i would argue those layers were originally intentional (since the original idea pasek/paul/levenson came up with was a cynical satire on parasocial grief) but layers later pushed away in favor of fully celebrating joyfully and optimistically their song and story and theme and audience at the time, removing the nuance, leading to the direction of the movie.

could deh the musical have said what it wanted to say with more sensitivity and grace? sure. but what it *does* say is worth accepting its messy conclusions for, because expecting things to be neat and tidy and perfectly moral is just another lie we force ourselves to present to the world that prevents us from ever finding each other.

[blueish-bird]

sorry if I don’t remember your name or conversations/experiences or basic things about myself, every few weeks my brain gets factory reset and I have to relearn how to be alive

[mantisgodsdomain]

i just wanna say that you're 100% right about Vi, i also wish people wouldn't just toss her aside like that, she's just as important to the team. like, she has depth dang it! she's more than just Funny Bee Who Likes Berries! also you're super right about people trying to squish Team Snakemouth into little nuclear family shaped holes. that's all, just wanted to give you a high five for complaining about stuff that also annoyed me

We've been chattering about it for... more than a year now, we think? Not necessarily via public venues, since this fandom's close-knit enough that stepping on toes is a major issue, but Team Snakemouth is a TRIO, not a duo, and trying to squish the relationship down to just "two dads and their baby kid" really just seems... reductive. Exhausting.

Vi's one of our favourite characters in the game, and it gets really tiring to see her treated as a third wheel. Even beyond the infantilization that's utterly rampant in this fandom, Vi, more than everyone else, gets things... sanded off, or just ignored. Either she's a bratty little kid who doesn't know better, or she's a background object, and that's just... taking a big chunk out of the team dynamic. She's got complexity! She's part of the team, not some random kid that Kabbu and Leif are dragging along on their adventures! She's a valuable part of the team, and she should be treated as such!

[beykhabarr]

Ashamed of having basic human needs pt 2🥵

[chloeseyeliner]

and here i thought miscommunication trope was never going to happen irl again and stay in fanfiction forever.

i was so wrong.