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#where there’s no top bottom differences
skbeaumont · 3 days
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Texas Heat | Joel x Reader Series
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Chapter 3 - Coffee and Confessions
Series masterlist
Chapter Summary: You get a job at a coffee shop. It just happens to be across the street from where Joel's working a construction job. Later, things heat up when Joel drops round to pick up Sarah. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU! no outbreak, porn with plot, a lot of sexual tension in this chapter. Word Count: 2.8k
Taglist: @mysterialee @amyispxnk
You wake late the next morning, head filled with half-remembered dreams about warm arms and a solid, broad chest. The mid-morning sun is already streaming through the bedroom curtains, and you can hear Connie downstairs, pots and pans clashing together as she finishes making breakfast.
You’re halfway down the stairs when she appears at the bottom, clutching a torn-out sheet of note paper which she holds out to you.
“I know you mentioned you’d like to get a part time job,” she says as you reach the bottom step, “so I called around a few places. There’s a coffee shop in town who are looking for new staff. This is the number, if you’re interested.”
She hands you the paper and beckons you into the kitchen, where there are fresh eggs and toast and a stack of steaming hot pancakes. You load up your plate with food and slide onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. Connie whistles as she starts washing the dishes. You’re halfway through your breakfast when she turns back to you and wags a finger as though she’s just remembered something.
“The Cuthberts are having a barbeque this weekend, for the neighbourhood,” she says, “they live a few houses down. You’re invited, of course.”
“Sounds good,” You say, immediately wondering if Joel will be there.
“They’ve got a pool, so make sure you’ve got some swimwear.” Connie adds, and, like a teenager with a crush, you can’t help the blush that settles in your cheeks at the thought of Joel in swimwear, wet hair swept back off his forehead and curling at his ears.
Trying to distract yourself, you examine the number for the café Connie gave you. The job sounds good, so when you’ve finished your breakfast, you pull out your phone and call them.
*****
Three hours later and you’re hopping off a bus in Cedar Park, trying to remember the directions Connie gave you. You find your way, eventually; the coffee shop is a couple of blocks from the bus stop. It’s a pretty nice area, sun-bleached grass lining the wide streets made up of modern shops and restaurants opposite a community college. Inside, welcomed by the dark wood floor and familiar smell of coffee, you feel instantly at home; you’ve done barista work before back in England, in between classes and during the summer.
“Aha,” a woman behind the counter says as you introduce yourself, “fresh meat.”
She’s attractive; mid-forties, maybe, with thick blonde hair tied up in a spotless bun and a pristinely made-up face. A badge on her polo shirt tells you she’s Gina, the manager. She hands you an apron and tells you to make her a coffee. A younger girl – probably twenty, twenty-one, with a name badge that says ‘Diana’ in bubble writing – gives you a grin and offers to help.
And so the rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of grinding and brewing and steaming. The café is busy throughout the day thanks to its prime position opposite the community college. You get to meet an array of students and professors, and although you feel a pang of envy as you watch younger, fresh-faced students settle themselves at tables to sit and write papers, you enjoy the routine and hum of the barista work.
You’re just finishing up when the bell above the door tinkles. Gina’s voice immediately greets the newcomer, and you almost splutter at the sudden enthusiasm lacing every one of her words, the slightly over-the-top, sickly sweet quality that has entered her previously no-nonsense tone. Curious about who is causing your new manager to turn into a simpering dolt, you look up.
It’s Joel, of course.
Joel, in his toolbelt and faded jeans and tight t-shirt. His hair is slicked back with sweat, and there are flecks of plaster on his tanned skin and splatted down his toned arms. Your heart stutters – actually stutters – as though this is a cheap cheesy romcom and he’s the romantic lead. Gina’s batting her eyelashes at him and he’s grinning lopsidedly at her, all southern charm and polite gentleman. Diana shoots you a look from where she’s cleaning tables in the corner, grinning.
Joel doesn’t see you immediately – you’re mostly hidden from his view by the coffee machine you’d been cleaning when he came in – but jealously rises up in your chest when he laughs at something Gina says, at the way he leans against the counter to talk to her, knee popped out, one hand resting on the top of his toolbelt. It’s maddeningly attractive – he’s maddeningly attractive – and you think of how he looked standing so close to you yesterday, the way the heat of his body rolled off him and his scent: wood chippings and soap and something uniquely him.
Finally, Gina stops flirting for long enough to take his order, and his eyes flick up as she passes the receipt with the coffee order to you (americano, no cream). You step out from behind the machine, smiling at him politely, and he does something of a double take.
“Hey.” You say as you crank ground coffee into the filter basket.
“Hi.” He gives you a smile – warmer than the one he offered Gina, you think smugly – and asks, “what’re you doin’ here?”
You point at the apron you’re wearing, at the handwritten name tag, “As of about three hours ago, I work here.”
“And how’s that going for you?”
It’s almost criminal how he can make such a simple, inoffensive question sound so intimate, so flirtatious.
“It picked up significantly in the last few minutes,” You say, holding his warm gaze and biting the side of your mouth to suppress a grin.
He flushes a little, caught off guard, and you push on, not wanting to leave the sentence hanging awkwardly between you, aware of Gina’s presence a few feet away, “How about you? What brings you to this side of town?”
He points vaguely behind him to where the community college is, “’m working on a project across the road at the moment. Big expansion.”
You try to eke out making the coffee for as long as you can, taking care to clean the filter after each shot fills the cup, keeping your eyes on Joel as he explains about the job. He’s easy to talk to. He asks how you’re finding the job, if you’ve done barista work before, and when you answer he really listens, leans in and keeps his eyes right on yours, like you’re the only person in the world who’s interesting. It’s dizzying and electrifying. The fact that Gina is hovering in the background – clearly keen to butt in and join the conversation but not getting a chance as Joel asks you question after question – makes it all the more intoxicating.
After several minutes you push the finished coffee across the counter to him. He wraps a hand around it, his thick fingers and large palm making the cup look tiny.
“Thanks, darlin’” He says, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip. “I’d better head back, but I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”
“Yeah,” You say, then, remembering, ask, “oh – are you going to the Cuthbert’s barbeque this weekend?”
“S’long as I can get this plastering finished by Friday.” He replies, and then he’s taking long strides away from you, pushing the door open and stepping through it.
Immediately, Gina is all over you.
“You know him?” She asks, sidling up to you and leaning on the counter conspiratorially.
“He lives next door,” You explain, wiping down the coffee machine absentmindedly, still watching Joel’s broad back as he jogs across the road back towards the college.
“You lucky thing!” Gina exclaims. “He’s been coming in regularly the last couple of weeks, but I’ve never managed to get his name. Or his number.” She gives you an over-the-top wink with this last and you force a polite smile, wiping the milk steamer perhaps a little harder than necessary.
“Can we agree,” Diana says later that evening, as you both wind your way to the bus stop from the café, “that Gina is gagging for it.”
You laugh and Diana bumps against your shoulder, her own laugh high and clear against the hum of the traffic. It feels nice to be hanging out with someone who’s not related to you or thirteen years old or the object of an intense crush. And Diana is quick to laugh and easy to talk to. Her company makes the homesickness for your friends dull a little.
“No but seriously,” she says as you reach the bus stop, “I’m gay and even I can tell that Joel guy is hot. You sleeping with him?”
“What? No.” A pause as Diana raises a single eyebrow at you, and then you add, “I mean, I want to, but I haven’t. As of yet.”
This sends you both into another round of giggles as you flop down onto a bench.
“You think he’s into you too?” Diana asks when you’ve got your breath back.
“I think so, but it’s hard to tell. A couple of times I’ve thought he’s flirting with me, but then I’ll say something back or he realises what’s happening and it’s like he… panics.”
You tell her about last night, about how he looked at you in the half-light of the living room doorway, about the way he suddenly backed off but then sent a text asking you to come back again next week.
Diana shrugs, “Maybe he’s just shy?” “Yeah, maybe.” You let your gaze drift to the row of shops opposite the bus stop, think about Joel’s face earlier when you told him he’d made your day better, about the blush that coloured his tanned face.
“You know what you’ve got to do, right?” Diana says then, her blue hair almost purple in the fading sunlight.
You roll your eyes, grin, ask, “What?”
“Well, if he turns up at this barbeque you mentioned in the café, you’re gonna have to flirt your ass off.”
“Oh, God.”
Diana cackles as the bus pulls up, and you bury your face in your hands.
*****
Joel works late the next two nights. You know because Sarah comes round both evenings and leaves only when his work truck pulls up onto their drive, at gone nine both Thursday and Friday. You help her out with maths homework, show her how to do differential equations without having to resort to tears, which proves popular.
“Usually,” she declares on Friday, as you sit at the kitchen bench while Danny feeds Nana in the lounge and Connie takes the trash out, “it’s very boring here. But since you came, it’s about a million times better. Even with the math.”
“Especially with the maths.” You reply, grinning, and she rolls her eyes.
Connie bustles back into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
“I think your daddy’s home, Sarah.” She says as she comes in.
There’s a tap on the front door as she says it. You rise from the bench, brush cookie crumbs from your jeans and make your way down the hall. The silhouette framed by the glass of the door is broad and tall, and your stomach does a strange little jolt as you step towards it.
Joel’s face is drawn when you open the door, the bags under his eyes accentuated by the porch lights, the lines on his tanned forehead deep. He’s in his work clothes, as usual. The tool belt is off, though, which is strangely a disappointment.
“Hey,” you say grinning, and he smiles back, his tired eyes creasing at the corners.
“Hi, darlin’. Is my kid here, by any chance?”
“She is indeed. She’s just packing up her things.”
He nods, and you take in the sag in his shoulders, the yawn that suddenly stretches his mouth.
“You’re working too hard.” You say, and he chuckles.
“Been tryna finish this plastering, because someone wants me to go to a barbeque.” He quips, grinning, and you feel yourself blushing.
“Did you finish it?”
He holds his hands out to his sides, lets you take in the beige splodges that cover his jeans, the dust that coats his t-shirt, the caked soles of his large work boots.
“Reckon most of it’s on me, but there’s enough on the walls to do the job too.”
“I assume you’ll be wearing this outfit tomorrow, too?” You say, laughing as he tries and fails to brush off a particularly well-dried patch of plaster from the leg of his jeans.
“Oh, ‘course.”
Sarah appears at your side, Connie behind her. She tucks an arm around your waist and you slip yours over her shoulder.
“We did differential equations.” She says proudly, and Joel smiles at her.
“Might as well have done Greek for all that means to me, baby girl.” He says, “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
“Oh, your lawn mower’s in the garage, Joel.” Connie says, as Sarah hops out of the front door and starts down the porch steps. “I wouldn’t ask you to move it now, only Danny wants the space for the beer cooler for tomorrow.”
“No worries,” Joel says, “I’ll get it. Sarah, go on home and open the garage up.” He tosses her a bunch of keys.
“I can open up our garage,” You offer, taking the keys from Connie as she scrabbles to change her slippers, gripping the door handle and wobbling precariously.
“Thank you, dear.” She says, sighing and straightening up.
Outside, you press the key into the garage door and let it swing open. Joel stands by, grabs the top of the door as it swings open, lets it gently rise the last couple of inches. The movement pulls the top of his shirt up, revealing his stomach, the dark hairs the trace a path down below the waistband of his jeans. You swallow, avert your eyes a few seconds too late, straight up into his face. He’s smiling cockily, hand still up on the open garage door.
“Concentrate, darlin’,” He says, and the Southern drawl of it goes straight to you core, has you pressing your thighs together, heat building in your belly.
“I think the mower is just over- ugh, what the fuck!” You bat at the cobweb that you’ve just walked straight into, spluttering and clawing at it, dragging it off of your face.
Joel lurches forward in a split second, panicked by your outburst, then, realising what’s happened, falls back and starts laughing.
“Don’t laugh!” You say, pulling long silky threads from your face. “It’s all over me!”
“Here,” Joel steps toward you again, raises a hand, brushes a single fingertip over your forehead, pulling one of the web’s tendrils away from your skin.
“Thanks,” You say, suddenly stilling, letting your own hands fall, leaning into his touch.
“There’s some in your hair.”
“Can you?”
“Oh, uh, yeah.”
He reaches up, threads a hand into the front of you hair and combs through it. He’s so gentle it almost makes you whimper, his fingertips just brushing your scalp, side of his thumb barely tracing the side of your jaw, down to your neck. You feel goosebumps erupt in the wake of his hand. He’s looking at you – at your hair, his eyes wide and serious, mouth slightly open. You watch his arm, watch the muscles shift in his bicep as he moves his hand back through your hair, pulling the last of the cobweb out. He slows as he reaches the ends, lets his little finger glide almost imperceptibly under your chin, lifting your face delicately so that you’re looking right at him.
His pupils are blown wide in the dim light of the garage, that same look on his face as he had in the doorway of the lounge a few nights ago. He moves his hand from your face, hesitates, closes it into a fist by your shoulder and then sighs, a resigned, drawn out sigh. Before you can speak he’s pushing his hand back into your hair, caressing your jaw, drawing your face up, towards his lips, which are parted slightly, plump and beautiful. You’re inches from him, your breath mingling, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he leans down to meet you in the middle.
“Dad?”
You spring apart at the sudden sound of Sarah’s voice. You’re both flustered; Joel’s cheeks are ruddy and you can feel your own burning scarlet.
“Coming, we’re coming.” He says, turning from you to Sarah, who steps round the driveway into the entrance of the garage.
Joel steps past you to the mower, lifts it up easily in one arm and carries it back towards his daughter. He turns as he reaches her, looks you up and down in a way that makes you suddenly hot all over, his eyes sparkling with something deliciously dark.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’.” He says, and then he’s gone again, and you’re left alone with a thumping heart and a deep, unsatiated hunger.
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starryevermore · 15 hours
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the house of snow (17) ✧ coriolanus snow
the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 
chapter summary: finally, you enjoy your honeymoon. 
word count: 1,417
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: another short chapter im so sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, sexual references, implied smut, pet name (petal), not proofread
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Light streamed in through the window as the sun began to rise. Coryo’s pale blonde hair almost seemed to glow. You reached up, brushing a strand away from his face. He looked so soft like this. He looked a lot softer generally now. Could this be the almighty honeymoon phase of a relationship blinding you to his flaws? No, you mused. Coryo had always been different around you. Before, you thought it was out of distaste, but now you knew the truth. 
You ran your thumb over the swell of his cheek. This was nice. You understood why Coryo always liked to touch you. There was something so sweet about it. Something so intimate, knowing that no one else will ever touch him like this. A smile tugged at your lips. You scooted closer, kissing him softly. You couldn’t help it. 
“Now who’s accosting who?” Coryo teased, his eyes still shut.
You pressed another kiss to his lips. “What? I can’t kiss my husband?”
Coryo’s hands settled on your waist. He rolled over onto his back, pulling you over so you laid on top of him. “If you promise to wake me up like this every morning, you can kiss me whenever you like.”
“Deal,” you giggled. 
Finally, Coryo opened his eyes. He reached up, tucking a piece of fallen hair behind your ear. He smiled up at you, his pale blue eyes twinkling. “What are you doing awake so early? The point of a honeymoon is to relax.”
“I was admiring my husband. Is that not also the point of a honeymoon?”
Coryo pulled you down for another kiss. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You held back a giggle as you remembered where else that tongue had been—how your Coryo spent the entire night between your legs until you begged for mercy. Coryo’s fingers carded through your hair, tugging you closer. Your nose bumped against his. This time, you did giggle. 
“You think my kissing technique is funny?” Coryo chided. His tone was playful, though. A far cry from the boy you thought you knew on the schoolyard. 
“I think I am lucky to have such a loving man for a husband.”
“Don’t try to distract me. You laughed as I kissed you,” he said. You leaned in to kiss him, but this time he let out a sarcastic laugh as your lips touched his. “Doesn’t feel very good, does it, petal?”
“You are a spiteful man, Mr. Snow. You don’t even know why I laughed.”
“Tell me then.”
You pet Coryo’s hair, a soft smile on your lips. It was a stark contrast to the wetness you felt between your legs as you recalled the memory of last night. “I was thinking of where else that filthy tongue of yours has been.”
Coryo’s eyes fell shut. You felt him stiffen against your thigh. Your smile turned to a smirk. “Oh, petal, you can’t say things like that first thing in the morning. I’ll never be able to continue my day like this.”
“Hmm, but we’re on our honeymoon, aren’t we? What else do we have to do but enjoy each other?” you reminded.
His eyes snapped open. A low hum reverberated in his chest. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Your smirk grew. You shifted off of him, slipping out of his hands. Your feet hit the floor. As you moved toward the door, “In that case, I’m going to ask if breakfast can be made. Do you have any requests?”
Coryo let out a growl. He followed you of the bed, trying to grab your hips and pull you back against him. “My little petal has some thorns of her own, hm? I think you know what I want for breakfast.”
“No, no, I don’t want to kill my husband. Not after I’ve decided to like him, you know.” You kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m thinking pancakes.”
You slipped out of his hands again, giggling to yourself as you made a beeline for the door, shutting it behind you. In the distance, you heard Coryo fumble with the door before his footsteps echoed down the hall. You picked up your pace, nearly making it to the kitchen when you felt a pair of hands grab you from behind. A squeal escaped your lips.
Coryo’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Now, I’ll let you tell the staff to make breakfast,” he growled, “but as soon as we’re finished, I’m dragging you back to our room and finishing you off as dessert. Am I understood?”
“Is that a threat, Mr. Snow?”
His teeth nipped at your earlobe. “It’s a promise, Mrs. Snow.”
And he kept it. 
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“How many children do you want?” you asked Coryo as he dragged a rag between your legs, cleaning up the mess the two of you made. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as his brows pinched together. 
“Does it matter what I wish? You’ll be the one giving birth.”
You rolled your eyes. “Of course it matters. A marriage is a partnership. We should discuss these sorts of things.”
A sigh escaped his lips. He stepped away, taking the rag to the bathroom. You were left alone for a minute before he returned. Coryo climbed into the bed. He settled on his back and pulled you into his arms. “One, I think. I would like to give you the experience of motherhood, if you so wish it. But I don’t think I can handle seeing you in that sort of position more than once.”
“That sort of position? What are you—oh.”
It was easy to forget about his mother. Even though you knew this was the cottage where she had him and was going to have his sister, the very same cottage she lost her life in, it was easy to forget. One part of the Coriolanus that you once knew that remained true for your Coryo was that he kept his true, most vulnerable, parts to himself. In a lot of ways, he’d exposed those parts to you. But there were still things that you still hadn’t been exposed to. This was one of them, you supposed. 
“I don’t know what I would do with myself if I lost you,” Coryo said. When you tilted your head up to look at him, his eyes were shut. If he hadn’t just been speaking, you might have thought him asleep. “Burn all of Panem to the ground, I suppose.”
“You don’t mean that, Coryo.”
“None of this matters if I don’t have you by my side,” he said. His grip on you tightened. “When I was younger, I had always dreamed of being King. My Grandma’am and Tigris were always so sure I would one day sit on the throne. We would talk about all of the glorious things I would do. How I would honor Panem. But these few years I have sat on the throne…While it was what I expected, it didn’t bring me satisfaction, joy, like I thought it might.”
His eyes opened again. A smile tugged at his lips. “I didn’t feel joy until the first time I got to dance with you, my petal. And now that I have it, I’m afraid I must be selfish with it. I won’t do anything that would risk your health and safety. And to bear a child…That is the one danger I cannot completely control. Should anything go wrong, I cannot do a thing. I have to place my trust in the physician to ensure your safety. I don’t like having to trust others. Besides you, of course.”
“Coryo…”
“One child would suffice to carry on the Snow legacy. Any more and I fear I might keel over with the anxiety.”
You rolled over so that you half-laid on his chest. Reaching up, you carded your fingers through his hair. “Thank you for telling me that.”
He huffed a small laugh. “Well, you told me your anxieties. I thought it was only right that I told you mine.”
“And I think I would be happy with just one child, too,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “But I am in no rush to have any now. I was just curious.”
“How I love that curious mind of yours.”
A part of you, one that you were still trying to familiarize yourself with, nearly said that you loved him too.
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sleepyrn · 3 days
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It's your lucky day! I have been motivated to post and you guys get two post this month, shocker I know.
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I have somehow gotten dragged into the TMNT fandom again and decided to do a Rottmnt Leo spread!
And in case you missed it, I drew Donnie from two different Au's that I recently got invested in.
Top one is Swanatello by @tangledinink , which is an au where Donnie gets magical girl-ified! :D
Bottom one is from the fanfic Open your shell to find your wings by @onejellyfishplease , where Donnie gets double mutated! :0
I hope I've done both of these creators justice, and please go check them out and give their AUs some love!
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sparklecarehospital · 4 hours
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For the maintenance, I'm curious if you'll be editing the comic page URLs or navigation at all? I've always found navigation within a volume very difficult, since to navigate via URL you need to input both the update AND page number in the URL so if you do the math wrong or don't know where a longer or shorter update was then you're screwed, or to navigate via the buttons you've got to switch back and forth between clicking two different buttons.
yes, that will be updated. here's the changes planned for comic reading itself SO FAR:
you will be able to input the page number without the update and it'll auto-redirect to the proper page inside the update (confirmed, not implemented because i still have to put all the pages together)
the pages will be organized differently, instead of just /comic/ or /comic2/ it'll be a lot cleaner (confirmed, already working on it)
(atm this is a theoretical feature, i haven't actually fully figured out how this'll work yet.) i hope to include the ability to preview pages in thumbnails and be able to scroll through them as you're actively reading to quickly find pages if you remember what they look like. this will also be an optional feature you can toggle on/off in the event you don't want the next pages spoiled or something
navigation buttons will be above and below the pages by default, but you can toggle where they're placed if you want them only on the top or only on the bottom. (confirmed, already implemented)
hovering over the navigation buttons tells you what the button does so you don't have to guess as a first reader (for example, the next button has a tooltip that says "next" when you hover, first in update has a "first in update" tooltip, etc)
YOU WILL BE ABLE TO SAVE/BOOKMARK YOUR CURRENT PAGE AND YOU CAN LOAD IT WHEN YOU REVISIT THE SITE for when you go back to read again. (confirmed, already implemented)
not related to navigation necessarily but there will be the ability to toggle content warnings and set categories of what you want to filter or disable all of them entirely (confirmed, already implemented)
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cannedpickledpeaches · 11 hours
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Insert Your Name: Side Story 1
Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader
Link to series masterlist!
Notes and TW: First side story is Jade's perspective of when they first met. This one mentions extortion. Please enjoy!
Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi
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Jade honestly didn’t think humans were all that. Certainly, they had a fascinating physiology and diverse cultures that were completely different from his own. Their behaviours were fun to observe from a good distance away, camouflaged among the blue-green waves. But his interest was like that of a researcher studying rats in a lab.
Stupid land-dwellers, he jeered at them in his head. They wouldn’t last a second in the sea. In the deep, they’d be rent from limb to limb, outsmarted and outmaneuvered by us merfolk in every way. No matter how his interest grew, it always stemmed from a place where he considered himself superior to them.
Even when the waves tossed him onto dry sand, he considered himself superior to the group of human boys that gathered in curiosity. So what if he couldn’t move? That was only because he didn’t have legs. If he had legs—no. Better yet, if they were all in the sea, he’d be the one laughing. He’d make them all beg.
When that human child came and chased them all away, he looked at you in contempt. So what if you made those human boys cry and bleed? So could he. If only they were in reach. You probably felt that he was indebted to you for that. As if! How could he be indebted to a human for doing something he was perfectly capable of accomplishing himself? You were just an inferior human. If he dragged you beneath the waves, even you’d fall under his claws and razor-sharp teeth. Or you’d asphyxiate in a slow stream of bubbles. Or you’d crumble up like the soda cans he’s seen littered on the beach under the weight of tonnes of water.
Bottom line was: he didn’t owe a weak, inferior human like you anything.
Despite that, he thanked you. Politeness was a mask and being underestimated was his armour. He only needed your help to return to the sea, and then he’d once again be superior to you in every single way.
But what was this? You had the arrogance to demand money from him. This was not a uniquely human trait—he’d seen merfolk pander to his parents as well—but the way you said those words utterly infuriated him. A measly human child looking down at him, physically and metaphorically, with indifferent eyes. He wouldn’t accept it.
Just as he made an excuse to refuse your demand, you snatched something from him. The sturgeon scales. The ones he won with his brother. Something like that—a physical representation of his bond with Floyd—the reward he gained from fighting alongside his twin—the symbol of good luck under the sea—
How dare you steal that from him.
“Give that back. You will regret it if you do not.”
He vaguely registered his claws digging into the sand, his teeth baring in the way he knew would intimidate the fish and merchildren back in the deep. If it could scare sea-dwellers, a human would cower at the sight. They don’t even have sharp spines to defend themselves.
Still, your eyes remained indifferent. As if he was barely even on your radar. Him! Jade Leech, known for his unsettling schemes and fearsome fighting skills! Future heir to the Leech Mafia! Clearly, you had no idea who he was on top of being an idiot. If you knew and had a modicum of sense, you would’ve been shaking in your shoes.
“What is this?”
You didn’t even know what sturgeon scales were. What a fool indeed. Anger surged through his body. But he didn’t throw a tantrum. That was Floyd’s way of expressing anger, and he isn’t Floyd. He’s Jade Leech, and Jade Leech hides behind a mask of politeness until the day he enacts revenge. Besides, he still needed your help getting back in the water.
Despite his praiseworthy restraint, you extorted him. You didn’t know your place. He decided, then. Without a shadow of a doubt, he’d make sure to ruin you.
His luck couldn’t be any worse. Floyd saw the whole thing transpire and teased him all the way home. He was already irritable, and now he had to put up with being mocked by his own mirror image. It was fine. He could bear it. His top priority wasn’t Floyd’s taunts, but rather what he’d tell his parents. One hundred thaumarks was hardly anything to bat an eye at for his family. For a middle-schooler, though, it was quite the sum. He’d need to fabricate an innocent, plausible story that would convince his parents to at least lend him the money—
“Mama! You wouldn’t believe what happened today. Jade got extorted by some human runt. Wasn’t even as tall as our tails are long!”
Floyd and his big mouth. Jade glared daggers as his twin cheerfully regaled their mother with the riveting tale of his blunder. He had to salvage this situation somehow.
“Hm, what are you talking about?” He consciously relaxed his shoulders and fixed his face into a pleasant smile. “There’s no need to lie to our mother. The two of us didn’t see a single human today—”
“Oooh, you’re embarrassed!” Floyd swam circles above his head. “Hah, look atcha pretendin’ nothin’ happened!”
In the end, he couldn’t fool his mother. He wasn’t sure how she’d react. Would she scold him? He was the victim in this situation. Following that logic, his mother should’ve been on his side and punished that human, right?
She did neither. Instead, she smiled and patted his hair.
“Jade, my sweet. We all get careless sometimes, and these things happen. It isn’t your fault.” Gentle eyes, smile as sweet as honey. For a split second, he thought she’d take care of it for him. He should’ve known better. “But it’s your responsibility to fix it for slipping up in the first place. Give it your best.”
She had no intention of helping him. His father would not step in, either. That was the way their household operated—losses of any kind were handled by the person who caused the loss, regardless of reasons or circumstances. Though young, he was not exempt from those rules. His parents spoiled him and Floyd, but there were certain areas where they were strict and refused to budge. He would have to learn to solve his own problems. Under the sea, waiting for help was not always an option—his parents made sure to make that clear to him.
Even so, Jade wasn’t worried. He had no shortage of blackmail against his peers. You weren’t the only person who knew how extortion worked. By that very evening, he had already collected the required amount. The only assistance he got from his parents was when he handed his father a bag full of coins and received a hundred-thaumark bill in return. As he anchored himself by twisting his tail around the leg of his father’s desk, he watched his father count the loose change and wondered how he’d make you cry. It would have to be a long operation. He’d first have to gain your trust, build it up for ages, then shatter it when you were as close as possible . . . .
“Good effort, Jade.” Mr. Leech patted his head and put the change away. “Passing marks for your quick solution.”
He blinked. “Only passing?”
“Yes. Why do you think that is?”
So his solution wasn’t perfect. He mulled it over, frowning into his hand. The goal was to accrue one hundred thaumarks, and he hit that goal without much trouble. What more was there to consider? Perhaps the issue was that he created a sense of animosity and resentment against him, which jeopardized his usual attempts at staying unnoticed. But that was easily solved by instilling fear into the ones he extorted. Besides, he didn’t mind if a few people hated him.
“I can’t think of a reason.”
“That’s alright. You’re still young, after all. I’ll tell you.” Mr. Leech’s eyes curved into a smile. “The problem with your method is that it isn’t sustainable.”
Those words bothered him all through the night until the next day, when he returned to that shore to meet you. Floyd tagged along, chattering away, but Jade only answered with absent hums and affirmations. Why would his method need to be sustainable? This was a one-time payment. Going forward, he’d someday put you in his debt. He didn’t have any intention of giving you anymore money, even if he’d earn it back.
That was, until he hoisted himself up on the rocks on the beach and the money exchanged hands. He wonders to this day if you remember the way you looked when you crouched by the shore. You must have tumbled into a bush or gotten into another fight, one that you’d long forgotten. Your socks had picked up burs, your sweater scuffed, a branch sticking out of a hole in the shoulder. Even surrounded by the early spring snow, the broken branch sported fresh budding leaves. The glimpse into foliage beyond what he could see from his usual haunt in the waves captivated him.
You stared at the bill in your hand and mumbled something about needing more money for your mother’s medication. At that moment, he understood why his father emphasized sustainability. He boldly suggested that he’d pay you to bring him interesting souvenirs from land. For that, he’d need a steady source of income. He’d think about that later. His ultimate goal for all this was to make you cry, after all, and get some fun items from land as a bonus.
What he didn’t expect was to grow so fond of you that he’d no longer mind being in your debt forever.
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Chapter 3 of These Are Not Our Masks!
@daboyau
@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy
@iobsesswaytoomuch
@sady-is-secretly-an-alchemist
@dluebirb
Raph and Leo snap back to attention at Draxum’s voice and arrival. He stands in front of a still open and glowing portal and has a look of pure disappointment on his face.
“You were supposed to collect your brothers and eliminate everyone else who stood in your way. Are you disobeying my orders!?”
Mikey holds onto Raph protectively.
“Yes they are! And nobody is going back with you!”
Draxum rolls his eyes.
“I should have made you all have some level of higher intelligence instead of putting it all in the purple one. This is not a situation where any of you have a choice.” His hand glows as he holds it out towards Raph and Leo.
The two of them scream out and hold onto their faces in pain.
Splinter steals one of Leo’s katanas and strikes at Draxum.
“You can not have them!
Draxum dodges.
“You fool, they were mine from the start! Now listen to my commands! Artemis! Atlas!”
Raph and Leo revert to their earlier behavior and go after both Mikey and Donnie.
“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N! Release the nets!” Donnie commands.
“Here they come!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shoots them out, getting both brothers caught and put to the floor.
They claw and thrash around which makes it clear the nets will not hold them for long. Another plan is needed, and fast.
“It’s a marvel what you’ve done with your limited resources. I’m sure you’ll make something better than this trash under my command.” Draxum waves his hand again.
Vines shoot up and around Donnie, completely surrounding him. A mask is held by several of them while others grab Donnie’s arms and legs.
The mask is smaller than the others, only being enough to cover his eyes. It’s metallic purple all across. There’s a goggle over one eyehole with two screws next to it’s top and bottom. The other side of the mask has gears and a geometric pattern around the eyehole.
If Donnie wasn’t in so much danger and didn’t know who it was from, he might actually be impressed.
He struggles heavily, also trying to bite the vines.
Splinter turns to help him but gets stopped by Draxum who he continues to fight with. Mikey pulls at the vines as much as he can. Every one he gets rid of has another pop up in its place.
“Donnie! BOOYAKASHA!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gives out a battle cry and starts mowing down the vines.
Draxum notices while continuing his fight and moves some vines to grab the drone. He tears him to pieces, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N’s head dropping to the floor.
Donnie’s eyes widen as his heart absolutely shatters alongside his robotic son.
“No! S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N! I’m going to turn you into lamb chops, do you hear me Draxum!?”
“Save that attitude for humanity.”
The vines with the mask slams it onto Donnie’s face.
Everything starts falling apart almost immediately afterwards.
Raph and Leo escape their nets, barreling towards Mikey since he’s the only one left without a mask.
Donnie is finally released from the vines.
That proves to be a mistake.
His fingers twitch unnaturally as he types, but he still manages to use his wrist device. Lasers start firing all over the place from different directions.
Leo gets distracted from chasing the lights, Mikey vaguely remembers when they were little and that worked on him.
Raph gets distracted trying to stop Leo from burning himself.
Mikey grabs at Donnie’s hand and attempts to get him to safety.
Donnie doesn’t move any inch.
“Leave me. Don’t go anywhere obvious. Warn April before she gets here. I’m destroying my controls for the tank. Go.”
Mikey tears up and shakes his head.
“No! I’m not-!”
Donnie slaps Mikey across the face, leaving him completely shocked and with scratch marks on his cheek.
“Did I ask you!? Do you know how hard it is to even be talking to you!? Get father and leave! Leave! LEAVE!”
Mikey runs and grabs his father’s hand instead, pulling him along as they run.
“Purple! Red! Blue! No! I will save you from this! I swear!” Splinter insists.
“What are you doing!? You’re letting them get away! Do as I say, Artemis, Apollo, Atlas!” Draxum orders.
Donnie suddenly appears next to him, having moved so fast the sheepman could hardly react in time. The wrist device is grabbed and smashed against his face as hard as possible.
Draxum shouts and reels back in pain.
Donnie tackles him, scratching and biting relentlessly.
“Artemis! Atlas! Get him off me!“
Raph and Leo move back over. Raph wraps both arms around Donnie tightly, lifting him off the ground.
Leo cackles.
It’s unsure if it’s at Draxum or Donnie.
Draxum stands up and glares down at the snapping soft shell.
“How are you able to resist my commands this much?”
Donnie spits at him.
“How should I know why your shoddy work isn’t functional!? I’ll tear you into pieces-“
“Now I remember, you didn’t steal one of my weapons. You aren’t attuned to mystic energy like my other creations. I’ll just have to imbue more of my energy in your mask. A simple solution that will also serve as your punishment.” Draxum places his hand on the mask.
Donnie’s throat hurts from how loud he screams.
Draxum smiles.
Donnie eventually goes limp, head only held up by Draxum’s hand. It falls down when he moves it away.
“Atlas, release him.”
Raph let’s go.
Donnie fails to his knees.
“Apollo, are you ready to be of use now?” Draxum questions.
Donnie lifts his head.
“Yes, Baron Draxum.”
Draxum smiles widely.
“Then it’s time you fulfill your purpose.”
Splinter portaled himself and Mikey into the tank then tossed the katana outside the hatch. It probably has some kind of a tracker, knowing Draxum.
He closes the hatch and gets into the driver’s seat. His heart aches as he knows he’s taking Raph’s place, but he presses the button to open the garage door and speeds the tank out of there.
Mikey silently sobs while sitting in his seat. Donnie might have hurt him, but he was doing it to get him to just listen and go. Maybe if he had just done that Donnie wouldn’t have anything to feel bad about later.
Splinter drives so fast that he barely has time to stop when they see April about to open a manhole.
Mikey very quickly hops out and pulls her in before Splinter speeds off again. He clings to her as much as he can, soaking her shirt with his tears. April squeezes him and decides to ignore the fact that she’s going to need a new shirt.
“What happened? Donnie texted SOS! Why isn’t he here!? Wait, why aren’t Leo and Raph here either!?”
Splinter grips the arms of the chair tightly.
“They’ve all been taken and forced to work under Draxum.”
April’s face pales.
“They’re….no way….Mikey’s the only one left?”
Splinter nods solemnly.
“I’m afraid so. Donatello warned us not to go anywhere obvious. They will look for us at your home. I know somewhere else we can go.”
“And that is?”
“LEMONADE! Todd’s special lemonade for my gue-! Oh no! What happened to you!?” Todd sets the tray with cups and pitcher down on his table and rushes over to Mikey and April.
Mikey sniffles and let’s go of April just to open up his arms to Todd.
Todd whistles and an army of puppies come running to tackle Mikey to the ground. They lick at his face, taking away any tears on it. He moves his head a bit so they don’t lick his scratch.
“Thanks Todd, I really needed this.”
“Of course! Anything for my best friend! But I could help a lot more if I knew what happened!”
Mikey sadly tells the entire story, fully filling everyone present in.
April and Splinter look even more terrified. Neither of them knew exactly how bad it had gotten. Now they’re aware that might be entirely screwed.
“Donnie did that to you….?”
“H-He wouldn’t have done it if he could help it. Even with how hard it was to talk, he wanted me to remember to warn you, April.”
She feels a little choked up that Donnie used some of his last bits of sanity to worry about her. April rejected hanging out with them today in favor of spending some time relaxing with Mayhem. If she had been there, she could have done something.
No, no time to think about that. She’s here now and her pseudo brothers need her.
“We need a plan! We can’t just let Draxum use them like puppets! Splints, what are our options?”
“If this is what I believe it to be….then I am not sure….but I do know where I can get some information. That auction house must have some of my family scrolls since they continue to sell things from my time as Lou Jitsu.”
“Then we go looking! There’s no time to waste!”
“Y-Yeah, let’s go!” Mikey tries to sit up.
April gently pushes him back into the puppy pile.
“Sorry buddy. It’s better for you to be here where they won’t find you. Todd will protect you, right Todd?”
Todd rips off his shirt and shows off a surprisingly good physique.
“Nothing will get to my pal while I’m here!”
“Okay, I wasn’t expecting all that, but my point is proven.”
“But I want to help! Leo and Donnie….they both made sure I wasn’t taken….I have to repay the favor by helping fix them!” Mikey whines.
Splinter kneels down next to him and strokes his non hurt cheek.
“My son, you can repay the favor by staying safe like they wanted. If Draxum gets you as well, it’s truly over.”
Mikey leans into his dad’s hand and sighs.
“Okay….I’ll stay. Both of you be extra careful!”
“You’ve got it. We’ll be back!” April heads into the tank again.
Splinter kisses Mikey’s forehead and follows after her. The tank speeds off quickly.
Mikey sighs.
“Don’t be sad, friend. Let me get you patched up, then you can have some lemonade and we can cook together and play with the puppies! Doesn’t that sound fun?” Todd holds out his hand.
Mikey takes it, smiling softly.
“Yeah….it does. It would just be a lot more fun with my brothers.”
Todd helps him up and leads him to the first aid area of the puppy park.
“You can always come back with them after they’re okay again!”
“You’re right. And they will be okay again!”
“That’s the spirit! Do you want a Dalmatian or Golden Retriever bandaid?”
“Dalmatian please.”
April sits in Donnie’s seat as Splinter once again drives the tank.
“So….you said reaching out to them helps a little?”
“Not enough, but yes. Perhaps if they could stay away from Draxum for longer. It wouldn’t be an easy task.”
April thinks for a second.
“If Draxum wants the guys to rule the world for him or something, Donnie would need more parts. He also can’t work fast if he’s distracted so any place he goes to has to be somewhere he can be alone. I bet he’d go to the Purple Dragon’s lair!”
“Please do not tell me that you want to try to find him there. You have seen what happened to Orange, and he told us what Red did to Blue. They aren’t themselves. He won’t forgive himself if he hurts you either.”
“I won’t give him the chance! Besides, I’ve known the guys for years. They’ve got weaknesses even they don’t know about but I do. If anyone is going to get Donnie back, it’s me.”
Splinter sighs.
“Then you want to split up?”
“Yeah! You drop me off and go head to the auction house. I’ll calm Donnie down enough for you to use whatever you find, then he can help us get the other guys back!”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Of course I am. You know I’d do anything for them.”
“Then let’s save our boys.”
After getting the address from April, Splinter changes course to the hideout.
He hopes he doesn’t regret it.
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sonkitty · 2 days
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Crowley S2 Hair Post #21
(For reference: The Sideburns Scheme)
Crowley, Good Omens 2, Episode 1, The Clue, your boss
...
Sideburns Check
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The sideburns are long before Crowley fully crosses the threshold. They most likely lengthened while Aziraphale was touching the astragal and doorknob to his bookshop.
This shift suggests that the border is already expanding for entry compared to the previous episode. Aziraphale is looking at Crowley so has probably noticed.
Gabriel is on the first floor though not visible to Crowley when Crowley first entered. With both Gabriel and Aziraphale around, the sideburns stay long during the scene.
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When Crowley turns to Aziraphale and says, "Your boss said that to Job, do you remember?" is when it looks like the story itself most wants these long sideburns to be noticed. It's a strong right profile view of his face so gets a good look at the snake tattoo as well.
...
Brighter Red Streak Check
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The more saturated red streak of hair can best be found when Crowley removes his sunglasses and approaches Gabriel. That matches what episode 1 showed. Such times are when it is most clearly visible.
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Hairstyle Changes
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The hair darkened and lessened in saturation. Besides those changes, the hair tilting to Crowley's right is a little lower for a stronger overall curl for the upper hair going to his left.
...
Earthly Objects
(For reference: Earthly Objects)
Aziraphale is touching the doorknob for the outside part of the door and the astragal first. He shifts his touch, so that he ends up touching the doorknob on the inside as well.
He crosses the threshold first but doesn't actually fully close the door until after Crowley has passed him and even stepped down. As I've remarked many times, I've taken note of Crowley prioritizing being first when it comes to the Heaven elevator, but going over the story more closely shows it varies on who can be first in what and how. That confuses me, but I still think, on an intuitive level, it's supposed to matter for the Heaven elevator. This "first" thing is one of my top questions. At the rate I'm going, if it's one of the solvable puzzles, I don't think I can solve it.
I think the Tied Hands finish retying.
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Crowley's right thumb joint touches a jacket edge when Crowley is crossing the threshold near Aziraphale. Aziraphale used his index fingers several times while crossing the street, including one time where a thumb visually touched Crowley's jacket. Still, Crowley's right index finger can be seen "making a point" shortly after that thumb joint touch. It's not as clear as other times, but it's there and likely assisted from all of Aziraphale's index finger use.
The strands push off the apparel for a bit, lining up with Crowley's left arm, then making pockets with the door windows twice, as Crowley himself moves.
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When he keeps moving, his watch is also visible. As he's stepping down is the strike that I think is meant for a lapel edge as part of the retying process. He is making a pocket with his legs. This pocket is mostly his left leg, some books, and the bottom of the screen.
A little more happens with one of the strands shooting forward more than the other, so the tassel is quite loose. When it comes back to Crowley's chest, the strands collectively push off again to make a brief pocket before returning to their usual place on the shirt and vest.
With that, I think they are finally officially re-tied.
Crowley is quick to grab an earthly object himself. He picks up a Jane Austen book.
When Gabriel appears, he's holding books and shelving them.
Now it's time for the next touch of The Sunglasses Trick.
Here is a GIF:
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This time, we're at the first Single of a group of three Singles that become a Triple.
These touches are based mainly on Crowley using different sunglasses and hissing for each touch. They occur all in a row.
The different sunglasses are what help determine this group of three is the group of Singles that become a Triple.
The hisses are the commonality found between these touches that allow the switch to the Triple at all. By hiss, I refer to a subtle demonic hiss sound effect Crowley has when he removes the sunglasses. These things are not easily heard; it's something I learned about browsing Tumblr, listened, and eventually grasped when actually putting these pieces together.
These hisses are also, in my opinion, a hint about Crowley's POV on the story.
For these Singles, there is an extra factor of an earthly object is always "held".
The earthly object this time is the Jane Austen book. Up next, will be crows that are turned into goats, understood as a miracle hold of those animals. Third, will be a glass of wine. These earthly objects look to be an interesting requirement for this part of the Trick, given that the Threshold Tricks themselves are careful about when and how earthly objects are avoided. The Perfect Entrance Trick showed us they aren't completely avoided so much as they are managed with the game's mechanics—in that case likely neutralizing the window pane of the door.
So, if you want to get really silly on thinking that Crowley is just amazing and powerful, he's too powerful to hiss alone and needs the earthly object to control and lessen the impact of the hiss. Or something. Blaming pockets is usually a good option in the game too.
Now, did this Single have overhead lights? Probably, but I don't fully understand the finer mechanics of what's happening so can't explain it well.
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Crowley may have received overhead lights as early as when he grabbed the book, but we'll cover that part later with the story commentary.
Before Crowley walks closer to Gabriel, there are three lights to his left and above his ear. When he walks closer, those lights become blurry. He fully obscures one and partially obscures another. There are even more other blurry lights above his ear and to his left. There is a small set of three closer to the ones he's already possibly using. Then there are another two partly shown lights near a pillar. These lights look like they could be for Aziraphale since they are closer to him and to Aziraphale's right. The possible issue there is that Aziraphale's right ear isn't showing, and he's not capitalizing on the Metatron's mistakes, like he does in episode 6 for The Door Catch.
Another confusing factor for the overhead lights is that the next touch almost certainly doesn't have them during the actual touch because it's in the minisode. So, these lights could be like an extra reserve for that upcoming touch, especially since lights will again be shown with Crowley right before the minisode starts.
Since the Belt Head is ensured to be visible when the touch starts, that does suggest to me that these lights are relevant.
Another thing that happens is how amazingly fast the Tied Hands are retied after the touch. Crowley is making a point with his index finger while touching the book. That touch is still on camera when the sunglasses are removed from the face. He's making a pocket with his left jacket sleeve and left jacket torso. The clasp strike to a lapel edge most likely happens near the end of the cut. There's no visible thumb joint of his up to anything, but something can be found with Gabriel.
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After a few cuts, Gabriel's left thumb MCP joint can be found near his jacket—particularly, his jacket pocket. Meanwhile, the CMC joint is near the edge of the jacket itself. Aziraphale is visually pocketed between Crowley and Gabriel. So, by then, the Tied Hands are probably retied before the minisode actually starts. After this possible thumb joint assist, the Belt Head also gets an extra shot before the minisode starts.
That was plenty of pocket stuff, but let's go over the other pocket stuff not mentioned yet.
For some reason, there's a brief cut where Crowley is visually pocketed between Aziraphale and a pillar as he realizes Gabriel is there.
A notable pocket is that when Crowley stands on the rug, his leg, presumably, is making a pocket with an already existing shadow on it. I don't know what's actually casting that already existing shadow on the rug. This pocket remains for three cuts before Crowley removes his sunglasses.
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Additionally, when this shadow pocket is active, Crowley's right hand is rather particular about its position. The jacket sleeve, shirt sleeve partially out, and the right hand make a small brief pocket with the jacket lower right side below the belt. The pocket is shown again in the second cut, briefly obscured by Gabriel's left arm. When Gabriel talks about the people who were just in the shop, and Crowley slightly raises his head in interest, the pocket stays on for the full cut.
It's gone when Crowley finally moves to remove his sunglasses.
With the touch on the sunglasses, a pocket forms between Crowley's right hand, right cheek, and right shoulder. Yet another pocket forms between his left side torso of the jacket and left jacket sleeve. Still, a third pocket appears between his legs and the bottom of the screen.
When asking Gabriel what is the very first thing he remembers, a small pocket forms between Crowley's right arm, Gabriel's right thumb, part of his own jacket sleeve, and right index finger. As such, there's a pocket between Gabriel's right hand and the bottom of the screen.
After these pockets disappear is when Gabriel himself is visibly overcome, fluttering his eyes and tensing, before his eyes turn to a glowing purple.
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Before Crowley gets his overhead lights with the minisode about to start, there is a self-made pocket of hair that can be found. Since the area is dark or dim, and Crowley's hair is dark, it's actually found to contain some of the books from the upper floor to help make it more clear that it's actually there.
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Then Crowley gets those earlier mentioned overhead lights. It's a set of three with one partially obscured, so that's one for his regular head and one for his Belt Head, theoretically. He's going to be wearing a headband during the minisode. This part happens as the camera pans closer to him and Aziraphale with Crowley presumably the one meant to receive a stronger focus. Aziraphale is still on screen and will still be around when the incoming part of this minisode concludes. As such, this recollection of the memory will be shared.
Setting aside the pockets, something I find interesting with the earthly objects is that Gabriel had just finished putting books away when Crowley hissed at him with the sunglasses touch. As in, I think the reason it hurt as much as it did was because Gabriel wasn't touching an earthly object himself anymore. He'll receive another hiss later, but he will be touching an earthly object because he'll be sitting on a bed.
That hiss won't affect him in the same way though it will also be after the special connection between Crowley's and Aziraphale's homes has formed.
It's a small theory of mine that the earthly objects help the supernatural beings feel more strongly anchored while on Earth itself. Gabriel quickly reaches out and touches a shelf, for example.
This idea is part of what the Final Fifteen is about. Both Crowley and Aziraphale—on a layered level—know they shouldn't be touching earthly objects. They have to let go. They're saying good-bye for now, not just to each other, but to this special place, most of their shared home they established on Earth. They have to go because they have work to do.
The part of the shared home that stays with them is Crowley's plants and the maintained Green of the Rainbow Connection.
...
For my tangential reading in a desperate attempt to improve my play, I'm still re-reading the Good Omens book. Besides imagination, as noted in my pub visit post, there's plenty of mentions of memories and games. Agnes' prophecies are based on her remembering bits of the future. Anathema words things like so, "You see, it’s not enough to know what the future is. You have to know what it means."
Here's an excerpt about Adam and games:
Adam also had a small computer. He used it for playing games, but never for very long. He’d load a game, watch it intently for a few minutes, and then proceed to play it until the High Score counter ran out of zeroes. When the other Them wondered about this strange skill, Adam professed mild amazement that everyone didn’t play games like this. “All you have to do is learn how to play it, and then it’s just easy,” he said.
Ha! Well, Earthly Objects in Good Omens 2 definitely isn't easy.
Otherwise, I've also started on The Sandman Volume 3. Shakespeare has just shown up again. Something's going on with A Midsummer Night's Dream, so now I'm sad I've forgotten so much of that play. We performed it at my high school. I was just an extra. Still, I remember being quite fond of the play itself.
A quote from The Sandman Volume 3 that I've logged as something to keep in mind for Good Omens 2 is, "Dreams shape the world."
...
Story Commentary
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When Crowley enters, he is given significant focus when he looks at the bookshelf to grab the Jane Austen book. He gets special music for looking at the books and a massive lighting hint to pay attention to him. He is almost a silhouette as the light from the windows surrounds him. It's a beautiful shot.
Well, we've already paid plenty of attention to him, but let's look again for anything else not already covered, especially in the cut itself.
He is pocketed between a dark horse statue and the bookshelf.
Another dark horse statue was important for being the earthly object he placed his sunglasses on in episode 1. He's about to do that first Single-for-eventual-Triple touch for the The Sunglasses Trick during this cut. The phrase "dark horse" has already been used twice in the show with Crowley specifically saying it regarding Jane Austen earlier in this episode. This statue disappears during the ball but is back in place after Crowley cleans up the bookshop in episode 6.
The window Crowley's in front of is important because it is broken during episode 5 and remains broken until he fixes it in episode 6. I suspect there is something important about it being broken while he's in Heaven, just intuition there. Another thing is that when that windows is broken, it has a role to play for The Pocket Trick's Single. For this cut, there are three lights visibly over Crowley's head.
As noted earlier, they could be an early link for overhead lights regarding the sunglasses touch(es), leading from one set to the next, managed by the book being held.
Speaking of the book, what about the overall group of books? Well, they're possibly in a book for this story. I know posts have been made about how The Final Fifteen is like proposals out of Jane Austen books, Pride and Prejudice in particular. It kinda is, but there's a special proposal that happens later this episode, in my own understanding of the story.
It's been a long time since I've read any Jane Austen books myself, and I don't remember them well so can't contribute much on that end.
Otherwise, hey, look at Crowley. He himself is important, especially this episode. He's conceivably the best player in Earthly Objects. He's got his tactical turtleneck today, and he hasn't even started on The Pocket Trick yet. It's gonna be a big deal.
Alright enough of that.
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The cardboard box can again be found without Crowley bothering to look at it in his line of sight during the scene.
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This scene is interesting and open to plenty of speculation on what happens after Crowley hisses.
Crowley himself seems taken aback at Gabriel's reaction. Yeah, Crowley hissed, but he wasn't expecting that. "That" being glowing purple eyes with a quote from God to Job.
It's also part of the idea of compelling someone for an answer that I mentioned in the post about when Crowley first encountered Gabriel in episode 1.
The way Aziraphale looks at both of them and Crowley's own reaction to Gabriel struggling suggest that Crowley himself has been in a similar position to Gabriel.
As in, Crowley has also forgotten things, struggled to remember them, and had to mentally plow through the challenges to recover what he could.
Aziraphale has been around for that difficulty.
For Crowley's reaction, I'm mainly referring to that he seems to be breathing nervously as he watches Gabriel, while Aziraphale is glancing between both of them.
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On the subject of the sideburns and rank, Aziraphale is still ultimately in charge of his own space. He's the one who tells Gabriel to go and have a rest. Gabriel pauses a moment to look at Crowley, as if for approval. With no sign of disapproval or Crowley trying to make him remember yet again, that's enough to go ahead and leave the area.
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I can see the red on the back of the collar on Crowley's jacket in at some points in the scene though it's blurred:
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That's it for this post. Sometimes I edit my posts, FYI.
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Main post:
The Sideburns Scheme
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Bottom of the barrel isekai reviews:
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Todays title: Welcome to demon school iruma
hi, im back, tell a friend.
Anyways we will be looking over something populer, and only a few images this time. I want this to be a nice slide back into the mix while I get ready to boil myself alive by reading shitty isekais.
"b-b-b-b-but dox!" you say, your form emaciated and ghoulish from months of little to no attention "how is it an isekai?"
Normally an isekai requires some form of passage into another world through death, but again, we are going to consider any and all portal fantasies to be on-par with isekais. as death and jumping through a funky portal are really kinda the same thing if you think about it.
so! plot synopsis, we open on the titular character iruma! they are being sold to a demon, don't worry this action will be the literal best thing that has ever happened to them. Also, added treat, slavery is not a running theme in this manga! HURRAY! WE HAVE FOUND OVERCOME THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM! HUZZAH FOR MEDIOCRITY! MY DESIRE TO RUN MY HEAD THROUGH A ARC OF GONGS UNTIL THE SOUND WAVES LIQUIDATE MY BRAIN MATTER HAS LESSENED!
anyways we get to know some important plot points between the buyer and the product! (our mc)
iruma is a 14 year old yes man. They say yes to everything, even yes to the idea of breaking child labor laws! as their parents are frivolous unimportant freaks that spend way too much money then bolt, leaving him to work off the debt. Anyways, that's how this happened. they wanted dosh, and our buyer, we will call him grandpa!
Why is he so interested in buying a child? simple! He is rich and wants to have a grandson, unfortunately, he does not have a dick due to war injuries... ok thats a lie, he just wants a grand kid.
Anyways this is a very interesting title in the fact that it is still in a way, a power fantasy, but the power in that fantasy is separated towards other things.
It is a story in which you have the power to be helped. The adults in this manga are actual competent adults, they are there for the protection of the children, they are there to guide, nurture, train and help them grow. Despite differences or annoyances some may have, those are secondary to the ferocity they show when it comes to ensuring the protection of their students.
Iruma does have a lot of “i am the chosen one” but it is not something that automatically aids him in most situations, in fact it is the triad of facts of “I am a human”, “I want to help”, “I am determined” that allow him to rise both in power and social standing. The might makes right idealism of the underworld forced to reckon with people that stop to drag someone across the finish line. 
As for the plot, it goes along a few separate arcs; there is a very clear progression of time as Iruma gets older. Mostly split into two parts. Irumas social life, in which we get to see him become better and better friends with the students and faculty at this school. Showing both the give and take as they both show how far they are willing to go for each other. 
The second half is the mystery and political intrigue of the demonic society at large. The idea of a demon king has gone missing, disciples of which are eager to try and resurrect him as they see no one who is more suitable for the role, opposing forces trying to groom the top students at various schools into the role of king in a contest of disciples. 
I think you should give it a read, its cute, the designs are fun and the power system while simple is still enough to give the action that is there a lot of meat. It's also satisfying thing to read if you just got done with a shounen and you are wondering “where the fuck are the adults? Why are these children doing everything?”
Draw backs. Not a lot but some of the students are essentially drawn as adults and there are parts where you will feel slightly skived out by.
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oobbbear · 4 months
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I want to post this here too because I’ve seen it happen a few times
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Please understand that there are cultural differences and language differences, if you see this happening let the person clarify what they meant, that person might just not be familiar with words the western side of the internet use
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intermundia · 9 months
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i just read about the "narcissism of small differences," aka the idea that the more a community has in common, the more likely the people in it are to engage in interpersonal feuds and mutual ridicule because of hypersensitivity to minor differences perceived in each other, and i knew there was a reason my time in academia and fandom felt oddly similar lmao
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fisheito · 1 month
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Bottom yakumo fics i rotate thru bc the tag is playing games with me
EIDEN:
(locked) https://archiveofourown.org/works/48090496
(Sequel) https://archiveofourown.org/works/49270402
(locked) https://archiveofourown.org/works/37453975
KUYA (some dubcon+yaku whump):
ASTER:
QUINCY:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54831790
NOT EXPLICITLY BOTTOM, BUT FITS THE SUBBY ~FEELING~
https://archiveofourown.org/works/37413112
(locked) https://archiveofourown.org/works/49106176
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50601046/chapters/128881948#workskin
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nuclearanomaly · 6 months
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Why fill it out once when you can fill it out twice 🤔 blank from here
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rationalisms · 3 months
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hi. i would just like to say that this is an attitude i've seen around increasingly often and i find it deeply baffling. like, genuinely could not relate any less to what is being expressed here.
personally, almost all media i'm obsessed with and talk about constantly is because i think it's good and i love talking about the ways in which it's good. yes, criticism can be fun and breed conversation, but so can positive critique. thoughtful, long-lasting engagement with a piece of media doesn't have to be negative. there are in fact ways for media to be good beyond "competent but generally unremarkable"?
and this is ymmv, but complaining about something is more the snack food of media criticism for me. it's fun and great in the moment and it absolutely is something i need to do regularly to feel normal. but i can't live off it. i need to experience genuine appreciation and esteem on a regular basis too, or i shrivel like a raisin. (expressed more seriously: the kind of critique i find actually nourishing in the sense that it allows me to refine what kind of art i would like to make, and what makes me tick as a human being, is the positive kind about media i love very much for being excellent.)
idk guys. is it just that i'm autistic and therefore discussing for the nth time why xyz rules never stops being entertaining? what am i missing here. maybe it's good when media is good?
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ailendolin · 4 months
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So I've turned the beautiful tea towel I bought at West Horsley Place last year into a pillow case. I really like how it turned out and thought I'd share because maybe someone else has got a tea towel lying around they don't use for its intended purpose. It's the perfect size in width for a 40 cm pillow so all you need to do is cut it in length and find some matching fabric for the back 😊
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jackienautism · 4 months
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is there like . anyone willing to explain to me what’s so appealing abt john kramer? aside from the fact that he’s an interesting villain and character? LIKE ????? i don’t understand why he seems so beloved??????????
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Love this beast, the artificial cucumber
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