#where's my girl's award?! WHERE IS IT?!

[epickiya722]

I adore Hatsume so much!

[tenderjock]

outstanding leadership, extraordinary initiative, & steadfast devotion to duty

Daniel&Jack&Peggy, and medals earned in wartime.

"You ever notice that Thompson doesn't talk about the Navy Cross?"

Peggy froze in the middle of adding milk to her tea. After a moment, she put the bottle down and stirred carefully, thoughts racing. Without turning to Daniel or letting her surprise inflect her voice, she said, "What do you mean?"

Daniel shrugged, a little jerkily. "I don't know. Everything's always bigger and better with him, you know? He'll tell you how much he earns or how long his - ah, you know, he'll brag. But he changes the topic every time it comes up."

She tapped the spoon against the side of her cup. "Perhaps he -" She broke off, struggling for the words that would turn Daniel's attention away from the issue. "Perhaps he simply doesn't like to talk about things that happened over there. We've all been there; it's never anything like the medals or newsreels seem to say it was."

"Yeah, sure," Daniel said. "It just doesn't seem like Thompson to not tell everyone he knows about it."

"You don't talk about your Purple Heart," Peggy pointed out, not ungently. Daniel stiffened.

"That's different."

"It is," Peggy agreed. "It's different for all of us."

A pair of familiar footsteps joined them at the office commissary before Daniel could respond. Peggy glanced back down into her cup and added a generous spoonful of sugar.

"I see my top agents are spending their workday productively," Jack remarked, his smirk a sharp line in his face.

Peggy shot him a rather arch look. "I see Chief Thompson is having an equally productive day," she said. "Have you admitted defeat yet?"

Jack made a face. He'd been fighting, along with Agent Faut and some rather obnoxious pencil-pushers, to balance the New York SSR's budget for the better part of the week. Most of his morning had been spent in a meeting with the senator's aide.

"I got 'em on the ropes," he said. Daniel clears his throat, rather judgementally.

Peggy isn't quite sure who he's been more upset with recently: Jack, for taking the promotion, or her, for not being bothered by it.

His attitude was a bit annoying, to be honest. Frankly, she was never going to receive a Medal of Honor or the position as New York Chief, no matter who advocated for her or what evidence was presented to the U.S. government. Daniel had to know that, too; the man wasn't stupid. And he had to realize that having Jack in charge, where they could keep an eye on him, was better than any alternative.

"We were discussing wartime medals," Peggy said instead of all that. Jack stiffened; Daniel noticed; Peggy rolled her eyes. "I once knew a man who earned an Order of the Bath for strategic actions in battle." She considered the memory. "He had terrible teeth."

"Order of the Bath?" Jack said, disbelieving.

"For conspicuous heroism taking place in a sauna," Daniel said. Both men laughed. Peggy sniffed. They had no respect, these Americans.

"What about Carter?" Jack asked, still laughing.

Peggy blinked at him. "What about me?" she said.

"What kind of awards did Agent Peggy Carter deign to accept?"

"I didn't earn any," Peggy said stiffly. "Women aren't combatants."

That's a bit of an oversimplification, she will admit in the privacy of her own mind. There were a few medals she could have theoretically earned, from the Americans and her own government, had circumstances regarding her service not been so, well, unique.

Some Englishwomen had received medals, but their service had been different than hers - usually as pilots or somesuch, not the covert missions she had in occupied France and Nazi Germany.

She may have qualified from the U.S. Women's Army Corps Service Medal, although it perhaps would have required Colonel Phillips to pull a few strings. Peggy had occupied a strange place in the war: a woman, first of all, and therefore not allowed in combat or eligible to receive medals for heroism under fire. But she had also been a spy, someone who technically didn't exist; and a British operative working for the Americans. Both sides had simply sort of - cut her loose, after victory was obtained and she was no longer useful.

It was only due to Colonel Phillips' recommendation that she had this job in the first place. Peggy pursed her lips, then shook herself out of her thoughts.

Only to find the two men staring at her like they had just been dunked in ice water. It was a bit unsettling. She took a sip of tea.

"Anyway," she said. "I actually do have work to do. Daniel, try to keep in mind what I was saying."

Jack was frowning at her. Daniel was frowning, too, but his gaze flicked to Jack once when she spoke, before he nodded.

"Sure thing," he said, and shifted on his crutch out of her way to let her back to her desk.

: :

Peggy frequently found herself the last person in the office, nowadays, with the possible exceptions being Daniel and Jack. Right now, Daniel's dark head of curls was bent over his desk and Jack's light was still on in his office, although the blinds were drawn.

They've all been working in a companionable silence for the last two hours. Daniel was eating something that smelled hot and spiced at his desk; little noises kept coming from the Chief's office, the sound of a file cabinet being opened or the desk chair being pushed back.

For Peggy's part, she's been combing through reports of gun sales to women matching Dottie's description in the tri-state area. She has found three that warrant a closer look, and was just about to get herself another cup of tea and really settle in when Jack's door opened and he slouched out.

He stopped in front of her desk. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. He stared at her for a second, looking troubled.

"Yes?" she ventured, when it became clear he wasn't going to say anything to her.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked, rather abruptly.

Daniel was looking at them now. Peggy drummed her fingernails on her desk, then nodded and followed Jack into his office, where he shut the door behind them.

He then proceeded to stand at his desk, hands braced against the wood, staring blankly. Peggy was honestly starting to get worried, not that she thought letting Jack know that was a good idea.

"Chief Thompson?" she said. She didn't touch his arm, but it was a close thing.

Jack opened his desk drawer and pulled out a box. It looked like a large jewelry box and was made of navy blue leather, with gold detailing. Peggy didn't need to ask what was inside it - even if it hadn't had the name of the medal printed on it in little gold letters, she would have known.

"You should have it," Jack said. His face was grim and set.

"Jack!" Peggy said, shocked.

"You should have it," he insisted. "I don't - it shouldn't be me, anyway. And you deserve it, Peggy. We both know that." Jack glanced at her, then glanced away. "I was going to put it out on my desk but - I couldn't. I can't. You should have it."

Peggy stared at him, feeling like her heart was in her throat. Jack Thompson was a liar, and a fraud, and a self-serving, arrogant pain-in-the-arse to work with, but sometimes he still surprised her.

And, anyway, it would do no one any favors to make this into a bigger deal than it already was. She nodded, and carefully took the box and tucked it under one arm.

"I'll keep it safe," she said quietly. Then, more briskly, "Do you want me to brief you on the progress I've made in the Underwood case?"

"Christ," Jack said, rubbing his eyes. He laughed, a little wetly. "Yeah, that'd be great. Tell me you got something."

They talked for a few minutes. Jack agreed with her that there was meat in the rumor of a bank robbery being planned, although neither of them could fathom why a notorious Communist would want to rob a bank. When Peggy left his office with the Navy Cross in hand, Jack was pouring himself a Scotch, looking exhausted and like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Daniel looked up as Peggy fastened the clasps of her purse and got her coat. "You leaving?" he asked, and then considered her more closely. "Are you okay, Peggy?"

"Yes," she said. "Just, you know." She looked at Jack's office door and clutched the rectangular shape in her purse tighter. "I need to get home."

"I'll walk you out," Daniel said, still watching her. "I'm just about done here anyway."

Peggy waited while he grabbed his coat, hat, and briefcase. She had to watch her pace a bit when she's walking with Daniel, but the company was usually worth it. Tonight, she was tired and a little shaken and a bit too reflective, and she appreciated the distraction of having to make small talk with Daniel as they walked to the subway station together.

As they were waiting for her train - hers was due in four minutes; Daniel's, in six - Daniel said, apropos of nothing, "I guess I just never expect Thompson to care enough about anything to feel, I don't know." He looked across the platform blankly. "Shame or guilt or, or loss. Or anything."

Peggy looked at him. "I know what you mean," she said.

"You know why he doesn't talk about the Navy Cross." It wasn't a question. Daniel wasn't looking at her.

Peggy tucked her heavy purse tighter to her torso and breathed out slowly. "Yes," she said. Just yes, and nothing else.

Daniel nodded, still staring across the empty platform. "Is it something I should know about?"

She gave that some thought. "It's not something I'm going to tell you," she said finally. "Not without Jack's permission, which I don't think he'd give. But it doesn't change who he is, not really. It might explain some of what he's done, recently." Then, because she wanted to be honest with Daniel: "Although you may not like the explanation."

He dipped his chin to his chest. "Alright," he said, then again, quieter, "Alright."

Her train arrived, and Peggy boarded, wishing Daniel a good night. Peggy observed him through the car's dirty, cracked window, a dark figure braced on his crutch, looking down at the concrete beneath his shoes. Peggy put one hand into her purse, pressing her palm against Jack's medal as she watched him.

As the train pulled away from the platform, Daniel seemed to shake himself and turned toward the opposite tracks, where his train going the other direction was arriving.

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

"Cuhut it out- you guys!" "Nu-uh, not until you're all perked up first! You don't want those gym challengers meetin' with an ol' mopey leader, do ya?" "Whitney's right, dear friend. No need to hide that beautiful smile of yours, alright?~"

What it takes to cheer up Johto's beloved ghost boy 👻💕

[gentil-minou]

wangxian rookies in showbiz au where newbie idol Wei Wuxian is on set of a commercial wearing a ridiculously uncomfortable outfit getting yelled at for dumb reasons by his incompetent agent while bottom-of-the-totem-pole production assistant Lan Wangji is being bossed around by the awful director

Except wwx isn't actually a newbie he was once popular child actor Wei Ying seen everywhere, the golden boy of the industry known for his upbeat personality and the smile constantly on his face.

That is until his final role when he was 13 where he played a dark jaded teenage psychopath in a psychological thriller and was forced to perform intensely emotional scenes without any counselor or anyone there to keep an eye on him (his manager at the time Madam Yu's focus was always her other children's careers, Wei Ying was just an extra way to make money you see). He even got badly injured on set, and now has an ugly burn scar above his heart from a poorly done fire stunt.

But the movie flops and things just keep getting worse from there...

It gets no attention from critics that is until former golden boy becomes the teen misfit all the gossip rags talk about, with constant cover stories showing him at 15 doing drugs and partying and eventually getting kicked out by his manager/aunt at 16. The narrative becomes clear that Wei Ying is a flop and another failed child star turned deplorable diva

He disappears for a few years, only ever coming up in a low budget TMZ special or some commentary youtuber's videos, but Lan Wangji never forgot him.

Lan Wangji had often worked with his uncle when he came on as a consultant on set and so was able to watch and admire Wei Ying from afar. He's especially fond of Wei Ying's role as the happy go lucky middle child on a popular sitcom role and his smaller movie roles where he played a genius child inventor and solved crimes alongside a precocious bunny rabbit.

So well Lan Wangji has always been a fan of him so he's shocked when the new idol on set of their cheap commercial stage looks so similar to Wei Ying.

But at the same time, they're not the same at all. While Wei Ying was known for being friendly and silly, Wei Wuxian is acting like a pompous and cocktail overly confident ass, flirting with the director and everyone else while making a show of whiny and being cutesy with hopes for more screentime.

It's very unnatural and there's a moment where LWJ thinks he must have been mistaken but there's a moment in between when he's running back and forth on the producer's order while balancing cups of coffee when he spots WWX sitting by himself, huddled in a corner of the soundstage deep in the shadows where no one else is around.

He's staring at the fingernails they've painted and stuck gaudy fake jewels on and fiddling with the ridiculous black demon wings he's wearing, as he picks at the layers of makeup and stickers they've put on his face. He's tugging on his red crop top, cut indecently short and revealing so much, as watery eyes dart back and forth in front him like he's worried someone important might see.

In general he doesn't seem anything like the person he was under those lights just minutes ago.

As lwj approaches he sees that actually wwx shoulders are shaking his hands are clenched into fists, his eyes shut tight so that his makeup doesn't run

Wei Wuxiann watches as the director is barking orders for someone to fix the set as another idol takes wwx's place and finishes the shoot. Apparently his acting wasn't "peppy enough" so they've replaced him with someone else

But this was his first gig in months, years actually but months since he tried to come back and for it to fail like this, so fast without anything to show for it is absolutely devastating. He'd tried so hard to give them what he thought he wanted, desperately hoping for his big break. Only to fail again.

What does he do? What can he say? Why does he even bother?

He's staring at the floor like it might have the answer to all his problems when a pair of white sneakers appear.

He tracks those sneakers up to meet the stonefaced stare of one of the PAs he's seen running around, the youngest one who's been doing the most menial tasks. He looks somewhat familiar but his face is impassive and wwx can't tell at all what he's thinking

The PA hands him a bottle of water that wwx takes with both hands, too taken aback to do much else. Then the PA slips his headset off and sits next to him, the black faux feathers of wwx's wings brushing against the PAs arms, though he doesn't seem to mind

And so they sat. Two nobodies hidden in the shadows of a forgotten corner in a busy studio, far from the reach of the shining spotlights and stage. Little by little, wwx finds it easier to control his breathing and stray sniffles.

Eventually, the PA starts taking off his hoodie, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. He reaches into his pocket and holds out a marker for wwx to take as he turns so his back is facing him.

When wwx, understandably confused, doesn't do anything, the PA glances over his broad shoulders and just says "Sign, please."

Wei Wuxian blinks waiting for the punchline but it never comes. He's not even on the roster for any boy group, just a trainee idol whose only fans are the diehards who follow the trainee circuit and his sister. And this guy doesn't seem like the former and he definitely isn't the latter.

But the PA just sits and waits, back facing wwx.

Eventually, almost mechanically, he signs his new autograph, the one where he uses the 2 W's to make a smile.

He asks for a name to make the signature out to, and the PA answers in a quiet hesitant voice that he can barely hear over all the background noise, "Lan Zhan."

That name sends a spark up his spine like it should be familiar but wwx can't figure out why. So he finishes his autographs with a star and a flourish. He hasn't gotten to test out the new signature yet. He thinks he likes it better than he'd expected.

Wei Wuxian beams up at him, heart beating a beautific beat against his ribcage and asks, "Why would you want a signature from a nobody like me?"

He means it as a teasing joke but the PA, Lan Zhan his brain corrects him, gives him a grave look that steals the breath from his lungs.

"You're not nobody, Wei Ying"

Lan Zhan takes the marker and slips his hoodie back on, covering the autograph with their two names side by side, and with a final nod he walks away, melting into the general chaos of the production floor.

It takes a long moment for Wei Wuxian to realize he'd never told the guy his real name.

(originally a threadfic here)

[yellowloid]

was he..........not there...................

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

Link to the artice: https://www.vqronline.org/essays-articles/2018/03/male-glance

[thetimelordbatgirl]

New school attendance rules (that are stupid as fuck) being published has me learning people didn't even know that the UK fines people for their kids not being in school unauthorized???

[omgeto]

MAHITO CAN GO HUG A LANDMINE.

Ugly ass frankstien wannabe.

Fucking bubble blowing fool

Bitch ass no shoulder sleeves on his shirt

No style havin ass

Weird monster fucking fool

That crusty ass tone nails piece of shit

Weird tongue mother fucker

well there you go. you said it not me.

[thatoneluckybee]

They should make it illegal to have to wear nice clothes when it's COLD

[the-king-of-lemons]

,,

[constantvariations]

V9C7

I am postponing writing a very delicious scene so y’all better appreciate this ;P

Post Ep: these last 3 eps are going to be carrying so much weight but at least we might be working towards Ruby’s decaying arc

Okay, totally random thought while I was watching the OP (I always watch OPs unless they’re particularly awful. It’s a compulsion idk) but I think it’d be hella cool if the blacksmith was Alyx. Whether the real Alyx isn’t the one who made it out or she came back for whatever reason (not dying ever is appealing to some, I hear), it’d be a neat twist

I’m not into 3d animation, so I can’t say a whole lot, but are the textures supposed to be this... weird? Last episode I said Jaune’s house looked like a ps2 game and it just keeps going

“I’m late! I’m late!” Okay, that’s a decent Alice in Wonderland nod. Not overdone or wink wonked, which can be annoying to those who don’t know the joke (man, I should watch Shrek again. The first two movies are masterpieces)

Wait, was that a dammit? Jaune canonically swears now. Huh

“Right on time.” It’s obviously not a time loop so what does this mean? Did the time fruit do more than just send him back in time but gave him even more of a spotlight in Wonderland? He’s a rusted knight, he’s the white rabbit, he’s murbling like he’s the mad hatter; what next, is he gonna be Jesus?

“Hurry! People are counting on us.” Uhhh people counted on you to fight the jabberwock and y’all bailed like frightened horses. I wouldn’t count on you with my fingers, much less my life

PAPER TOWNS MY BELOATHED

Okay, so we’re being hit yet again with the “what are you” question, which wouldn’t be weird if it wasn’t just our protags being bombarded with it. Surely there are some critters who venture over into new areas? Or perhaps new life occurs every now and again? The repetition has been annoying for a while, but it’s venturing into just plain silly “-so that we may serve you.” What. Why. Kill me

While I do like the designs of the paper stars, I’m really not digging the vibes. Sorry stars, you will never be the plupples from the Hot Daga

“Paper pleasers” I hate that I actually like that pun

Why is the team reacting so negatively to the stars being named after them? That’s genuinely fucking sad. Yet another instance of the show zooming by actual trauma for a cheap gag

Dude has spent who know how many years without a genuine personal connection, has been spending that time exploring the area and gaining its people’s trust, AND has shared his home with these people, yet when they talk to him about anything Wonderland related, they act like he’s saying he’s going to make them into shoes or something while having the audacity to be disappointed that he doesn’t have a solid lead on getting out. These girls are deplorable

Why are RWBY so lackluster about doing literal life-saving tasks while Jaune follows a hunch? You’re Hunters, that’s your job. Quit acting like life in Wonderland is beneath you because you don’t understand it jfc

I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many different visual styles in a single show before. There’s the standard 3d, the color silhouettes (solid and textured), some microsoft paint scribbles, a few 2d stills, and now this children’s book style. Feels like an identity crisis

I understand Jaune’s perception of the tree, but I really don’t like how he overrides the autonomy of the villagers. If they’re literally willing to self-mutilate in order to leave, that’s probably a sign that you should let them go

Love how Weiss’s interest in Jaune disappears the moment he shows signs of mental illness. Gives me the warm and fuzzies *smash cut to me barfing in a dumpster*

“Because I can actually protect these people!” That is definitely a response to trauma that fits well with this narrative. Let’s see how MKEK fuck it up!

Jaune kills 2 jabbers in like 0.0003 seconds. Why in the everloving fuck did y’all have to run before?

I’m just realizing this is the first fight I’ve actually paid attention to. No idea why, but every fight previous my eyes have just glazed over. But I gotta say, I think the camera is way too close to the action. There’s definitely some interesting choreography going on but it’s hard to get a grasp on where everyone is at any point, and the bland environment isn’t helping. Go watch John Wick for some pointers

Unsure as to why Ruby is a) the only one apparently traumatized to the point of nearly 180-ing her character and b) why it’s specifically Crescent Rose/combat that triggers her. MKEK know how to throw bones but they can’t dish out any real substance

Someone please give that creature a cough drop or something because I cannot understand a word this fucker says

I thought Neo’s semblance was illusions? Pretty sure it’s called Imagination, which definitely implies it’s not a physical shifting ability. So, if the jabber-Neo had taken a bite of Ruby, would that mean Neo is chomping down? Would Ruby get stabbed with semblance glass? Or did the writers forget their own rules again?

ONCE A FUCKING GAIN WE ARE INTERRUPTED LITERALLY IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMEONE ASKING IF RUBY IS OKAY. WE ARE SEVEN EPISODES INTO A TEN EPISODE SEASON GET THE FUCK ON WITH IT

This “don’t ask me because I’m a leader” bit is really strange coming right off the several minute conversation about finding leads to getting home where not one person even looked at Ruby. Like, this was a request for supporting a platitude not a demand for a plan

“Why do I have to be the one to always pick people up?” First of all, no one asked you to, so jot that down. Second of all, bitch you have never been the sole sally sunshine, nor were you the only one helping others with emotions. Yang picked up Blake in V2, Jaune reassured YOU back in V4, Weiss talked to Yang in V5, Qrow comforted YOU in V7 and his main source of kindness was Clover (rip good boy). You’ve had your moments but don’t act like you’re the only one pulling emotional weight

Also, this voice acting is making me laugh I cannot take this seriously whatsoever

Why in the hickory dickory fuck is Blake hiding behind Yang and YANG WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE YOUR SISTER IS A FUCKING THREAT

In this scenario, it does make sense why Jaune’s the one who snaps, but holy cannoli batman I cannot stop thinking about how much better Yang would’ve been in this position, especially after the group split in V8. Sure, that conflict was contrite to begin with and its resolution unmemorable (did it even resolve? I’m not subjecting myself to V8 again), but it’d be so much spicier if the family divide grew in absence

Skipping right past Ruby’s breakdown to focus on Jaune’s. Huzzah. At least his is more interesting and grounded than hers

Genuinely impressed with Luna’s voice here. Dude should go bananas more often

I am once again asking if the team knows about Penny or if Jaune’s been keeping that juicy bit to himself. The way the camera focused on his mouth made it seem like he was about to confess, but it was a tease. I got narrative blue balls over here man, get on with it

Wasn’t it usually Yang who tried for positivity in dark times? Or did that get left at Beacon too? Blake’s supposed to be the realist, which maybe that’s what she was trying to do here but considering her track record I doubt it

And R leaves WBY behind! Please let this mean we can FINALLY focus on her shit and not cut away from it? And they better bring the cat back or Else

[tired-aliensoul]

Cory’s friends are my friends, I can hangout with any of them at a given time without Cory. Every time we hangout, and they start complaining about girls I have that knee jerk reaction of always asking: “but I’m not like that right?”

I’m always met with: “you’re not a girl, you don’t count”

Which is a response I’ve gotten from guy friends since I was young.

So, I’m not a girl, but not a boy, then what the fuck am I? ✨enby baby✨

Living in a girl body but can’t classify as either gender based on personality alonneeeee, woot

[sophieseals]

No posts of Rina at the brits in the main feed, shameful.

[weezerlvr228]

It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???

NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.

[kimmkitsuragi]

also gonna be soooo insane for a minute re:prev post. not me looking at the helsinki gp like 👀 and going hmmmmm 👀

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you and satoru, your fake boyfriend, have awards to accept and places to be. so how'd you two end up fucking in a bathroom? NSFW

contents: fem!reader. semi-public sex, p –> v, blowjob, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, you two get walked in on at the end (kinda). references hungry for more. not proofread, ignore any minor mistakes. 3.5K words.

“you two are so cute together,” the interviewer sighs, looking at you and satoru in turn. “please, tell us more about your relationship!”

satoru laughs, resting his hand on your back and pulling you into his side. you put on a smile and instinctually put a hand on his chest, pretending not to notice the way he stiffens up at the contact. “where do i even begin?” satoru asks dryly, turning and looking down at you affectionately, and he’s almost a good enough actor for you to believe there’s any real emotion behind those cold blue eyes.

two weeks ago, satoru’s media team came to you with a request for you two to start dating as a way of gaining more attention from your fans. naturally, you declined—it’s not like you’d gain anything from the deal but the burden of being paraded around on the arm of the man you hated—satoru gojo, the cocky son of some famous actor in the 90’s. but after multiple increases in the amount of money satoru’s team was willing to throw at you, you finally agreed under the condition that this arrangement would end the second you wanted it to.

“i’m sure you’ve seen our latest movie on netflix,” satoru starts, looking back up at the interviewer, whose eyes have practically turned into hearts. “the one with the serial killer, yeah? well, it started from there and just grew into more.”

“i guess you could say the attraction on the screen wasn’t all acting,” you add with a knowing smile. good thing you were a decent enough actor to pretend as if you weren’t just lying through your teeth, otherwise the millions of dollars in your bank account would all be gone. 

the interviewer laughs and turns to the camera, saying something about how the chemistry between you and satoru was what really made the movie a hit—in fact, it might even be the reason you’re both getting nominated for best actor and actress.

“well, if you’d excuse us, i think we should get back to the party,” satoru jumps in, nodding his head at the interviewer in thanks. he removes his hand from your back as you follow him to the main area, weaving through crowds of fans and interviewers on his way there. you walk at his side, heels clacking against the freshly polished floor. satoru dips his head and whispers, “hold my hand.”

you scrunch up your nose and shake your head. “no thanks, it’s not like anyone’s watching right now. it’s way too crowded.”

“just do it,” satoru mutters, grabbing your hand anyways. when you start to pull away, he fixes you with a stern look and adds, “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t.”

“ugh, fine.”

two hours pass, filled with other actors’ remarks on how good you and satoru make as a couple. suguru geto, one of satoru’s close friends who had played a cult leader in a recent documentary even said that you might be the girl who could fix satoru. yeah, right.

“so, when do awards start?” you ask satoru, swirling your drink and relishing the sound of the ice clacking against the side of the glass. he shrugs and takes a swig from his own cup, which looks suspiciously like apple cider disguised as champagne. “really? you’re nominated for like, four awards, and you don’t even know when you’re getting them?”

satoru laughs carelessly and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the short cut of your dress. “at this point, i’ve got so many awards that it doesn’t even matter anymore. and by the way, you look really good in that dress. oh, wait, didn’t i buy it for you?”

“you’re not smooth.”

“then why am i nominated for best actor, huh?”

“because the system’s absolute shit, obviously. otherwise toji would win every time.”

satoru groans and drinks the last couple sips of his drink, rolling his eyes. “don’t even mention that piece of shit.” you shrug in response, hiding your smile behind your glass. a couple years back, satoru had lost a role to toji and to his despair, the movie did really well, despite what he’d promised to the producers who had turned him down. and it looks like he’s still bitter over that, and all of a sudden, the perfect plan to piss satoru off appears in your head.

“look, it’s toji right there!” you gasp, setting down your drink and hopping off your seat, walking over to toji while ignoring satoru’s warnings. “oh, hi, i’m a big fan,” you say to the tall, well-built man, smiling bashfully. toji turns and looks down at you, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“hey, pretty, you’re the girl in that movie with the serial killer, yeah?” he asks, crossing his arms. you nod and internally marvel at how tall he is—especially compared to satoru, who, by any standards, is pretty damn tall. toji looks you up and down, taking his sweet time drinking in the way your dress hugs your figure. “that scene in the alley was really fuckin’ good,” toji adds conversationally. “you’re definitely winnin’ best actress for that.”

anyone who’s watched the movie knows that the scene he’s referring to is the one where you get fucked by satoru against a dark alley wall—and you’ve seen enough edits of the scene to know exactly why it’s getting all the hype.

“aw, thanks,” you say coyly, resting a hand on your hip and tilting your head. “y’know, i’ve always wanted to star in a movie with you,” you continue, hearing satoru come up behind you in the background. you ignore the sickeningly obvious way he clears his throat and flutter your eyelashes at toji, who’s eying you with interest.

“i’d like that. i can probably pull some strings,” toji replies with a smirk. his dark eyes flicker from you to satoru and his smile turns almost patronizing. “and who’s this?”

“her boyfriend. and i really hate to interrupt this friendly chat, but she’s not up for grabs,” satoru snaps, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you back to your spot at the bar. you shoot satoru an indignant glare, but receive no reply besides his tightening jaw. toji laughs and waves you off, mouthing “call me” at you when you turn back apologetically. 

satoru drags you by the hand to one of the bathrooms, shoving open the door with the side of his arm and pulling you inside. there’s a long, shiny counter, which you become very familiar with once your fake boyfriend hoists you up and sits you on it. “the fuck was that?” satoru hisses, narrowing his eyes accusingly.

“what, we were just talki—”

“i don’t like the way he was looking at you,” satoru interrupts, crossing his arms tensely. he fixes you with a cold stare and you fidget uncomfortably with the hem of your dress, which you now realize is rather short. 

“okay, and?” you reply irritably, starting to get annoyed by the way satoru keeps patronizing you. “it’s not like we’re even dating, gojo,” you snap, emphasizing the use of his last name.

“yeah? well, i don’t need my ‘girlfriend’ slutting herself out to the guy everyone knows i hate,” satoru fires back, taking a step forward. his palms rest on the counter on either side of your exposed legs, and you suddenly notice how red satoru’s face is. the flush in his cheeks wasn’t as noticeable underneath the bar’s dim lights, but here, it’s rather obvious.

“are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, unable to suppress the cheeky smile that finds itself on your face. satoru’s jaw slackens and his eyes widen, and that’s enough of a sign for you to confirm it—satoru gojo, your fake boyfriend, is jealous. he doesn’t reply immediately, so you laugh, throwing back your head and giggling at the way satoru’s petty rivalry seems to be only one of the reasons he was so eager to get you away from toji. “aw, that’s so cute, but we aren’t even dating, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching out and caressing the side of satoru’s face.

he instantly swats your hand away, rolling his eyes at your laughter. “well, we still have to act like it, you idiot,” he mutters, leaning over you and eying the low neckline of your dress. you instinctively cross your arms and glare at him, and satoru only cocks an eyebrow in return. “so, if we were actually dating, do y’know what i’d be doing right now?”

“what?” you decide to humor him.

satoru’s demeanor completely changes at your question, going from pissed and flushed red to almost playful.

“this.” 

and just like that, satoru slips his slender fingers underneath the bottom of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your black, lacy panties. 

“gojo, what the—”

“shh, it’s all for the show,” he whispers teasingly, brushing one finger against the warm skin of your thigh. you involuntarily shiver from his touch, and against all rational impulse, find yourself wanting more.

in the acting community, satoru was well-known for being a stuck-up brat, and when you two had first announced your relationship, plenty of actors doubted it. after all, how could you, the classy it-girl of the movie industry, date an asshole like satoru? but even you were surprised at how easily people started to believe it when you two interacted in front of them. you’ve been told that you two had a rather unexpected burst of chemistry together, and that your relationship might actually make it.

what a shame.

satoru hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, raising an eyebrow when you don’t protest. he maintains eye contact with you as he slides your panties down your thighs, exposing your embarrassingly-wet cunt. satoru looks almost as surprised as you do at how soaked you are, even as he runs two fingers over your slit before sliding them in. you hate how good it feels—it’s been a while since you got a chance to sleep with another man, especially since you’ve been stuck with satoru for the past two weeks. 

“shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” satoru murmurs, scoffing in mild disbelief as he meets your eyes and smiles. he curls his fingers upwards, causing your thighs to reflexively close before satoru reopens them. “so, wanna explain, sweetheart?” he tsks, tapping your thigh with his other hand.

you make a face and look away, cheeks heating up the longer satoru waits for a response. “it’s probably from toji,” you snap back after a moment. satoru laughs sarcastically, shaking his head almost condescendingly and pulling out his fingers.

“nice try, hon,” he says sweetly, lifting his fingers to his mouth and licking off your slick in one smooth motion. satoru exhales heavily and swallows, taking his time in doing so. “want me to go grab toji to join us?” satoru asks, forcing a smile on his lips. “i’m sure he’d love to watch you beg—”

“shut it, gojo,” you interrupt, swatting away his hand, which somehow found its way back in between your thighs. “we have an award show to get to, there’s not enough time for this bullshi—”

that was a mistake. satoru instantly lifts you off the counter and, ignoring the rather wide range of curse words you throw at him, sets you on the ground and starts unzipping his pants. “shh, we got all the time in the world. they can’t give an award to someone who isn’t there, right?” satoru cooes, threading one of his hands through your hair and pulling you closer to him. his other hand finishes unzipping his pants, freeing his already-hard dick.

you look up at satoru, forcing yourself to act unimpressed—even though you know damn well he can see through your half-hearted attempt at hiding your real feelings. “s’ that all?” you ask, hating yourself for the crack in your voice when satoru laughs at you. 

“ah, i think it’ll be more than enough for your pretty face to handle. now c’mon, open nice n’ wide for me,” satoru instructs you, reaching down and tilting up your chin as he guides his dick into your mouth. against all rational impulse, you let him, all while glaring daggers at him from below. 

you run your tongue over his flushed red tip, and satoru sucks in a harsh breath, chest tensing as you continue kitten-licking him. his hand moves from your chin to the top of your head, and he pushes your mouth farther onto his dick, jaw tightening the more your tongue laps at him. 

sure, maybe you shouldn’t be sucking off your fake boyfriend in a bathroom where anyone could walk in at any time, but it’s the first time you’ve felt this way in too long, and you weren’t ready to let this feeling go just yet. so you humor satoru and moan, smiling when you feel the way his whole body loosen up at the soft vibration. “f-fuck, didn’t think you’d actually know how to give a man a good time,” satoru mutters through gritted teeth. 

“really?” you ask, pulling away from his dick for a moment to catch a breath. “we fucked for that movie, though, and you seemed pretty damn satisfied then, didn’t you?” you say in-between heaving breaths. satoru scoffs and shakes his head, pushing your mouth back onto his dick.

“yeah, but that was for a movie. this isn’t,” he clarifies, eyes fixed on the mix of spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you continue sucking him off. “fuck, why are you good at this?” he hisses, almost incredulously—it’s as if he was hoping you wouldn’t be this good for him for some reason, but now’s not the time to reason through it or wonder what’s going on in his mind.

satoru shudders around you, and you feel the hair threaded through your hair tighten. it’s not enough to be painful, but his grip still makes you whine from the increased pressure. his breathing becomes more shallow as you run your tongue over his length, and his foot starts to bounce on the floor as he gets closer to cumming down your throat. “shit, baby, m’ close,” satoru confirms a moment later, tilting his chin back and glaring at the ceiling. 

“fuckin’ hell, i—” he cuts himself off with a loud, lengthy groan, pushing your head even farther on his dick and tensing as the full force of satoru’s orgasm hits him. he lets loose a flurry of curse words as he cums in your mouth, filling you up to the point where it starts dripping down the side of your face. it’s hot and salty, two sensations that you normally wouldn’t put together, but in this moment it’s all you can think about as you slide one hand downwards towards your throbbing pussy.

still reeling from his surprisingly quick orgasm, satoru leans back onto the counter and pants for air. as for you, you’re starting to want some of his pleasure for yourself—so you slip two fingers inside your cunt and pulse them back and forth, needy moans slipping out of your lips at every thrust. “gojo,” you call, looking up at him and licking his cum off your lips. the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cum dripping down your lips and fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt is enough for satoru to cum again, but he forces himself to maintain some level of control.

“jus’ call me satoru,” he murmurs, reaching down and tugging you up to your feet. it’s hard to stand while your legs are trembling, but thankfully, satoru does most of the work for you by positioning you against the wall, back facing him as he aligns his still-hard dick in front of your dripping pussy. “say it,” satoru mutters in your ear, resting one hand on your waist and the other on the wall just above your shoulder. “say my name f’me, sweetheart.”

“s-satoru,” you breathe, and a moment later, your fake boyfriend—who doesn’t feel so fake anymore—shoves himself inside of your welcoming cunt. you’re already wet enough to the point where he doesn’t really need to prep you at all, but you’re still just tight enough so that every thrust feels like he’s breaking you down in the best way possible. 

“y’feel so good,” satoru groans, resting his chin on your shoulder and snapping his hips back and forth, setting a steady yet harsh pace. you stutter out satoru’s name again and again as your vision goes blurry, with your only thoughts revolving around the dick shoved up inside you and the man praising you in your ear. 

satoru curses when he feels your walls clench around him, breaths growing shallower with every thrust. “arch your back for me, princess,” he mutters, eyes fluttering rapidly as he squeezes your waist. “yeah, jus’ like that,” satoru praises, breath brushing against the side of your face as he continues thrusting into you. “how’re you feeling, pretty? s’ this all right with you?”

you nod shakily in response, swollen lips hanging wide open as you gasp for air. satoru clicks his tongue and slows his pace, dipping his chin and studying your face. “gonna need you to use your words, angel.”

“m' good, i wanna cum,” you mumble, a loud moan slipping through your lips when satoru laughs and resumes fucking you a millisecond after you answer. 

“i’m gonna fill you up, baby, i promise,” satoru whispers, and his words are barely audible over the lewd, sticky sounds coming from everywhere. all your senses are directed at satoru—the man you really shouldn’t be fucking right now, but all your inhibitions fade away as you feel your stomach start to tighten as you approach your orgasm.

“fuck, satoru, m’ close,” you whimper, arching your back even more and clenching your teeth shut. satoru sucks in a sharp breath as he confirms that he’s also about to cum, and his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets. “don’t stop, please, i—”

from there on, your words mix themselves together, with the only understandable word being satoru’s name. your fake boyfriend spills into you first, cum leaking from his tip and mixing with yours as you both chase your releases. and it hits you hard—if it wasn’t for satoru, you would’ve crumbled to the ground from the sheer force of your orgasm. all you can see is white as satoru finishes emptying his load inside of you, and the sticky, viscous liquid trails down the warm skin of your thighs as it overflows from your abused hole.

“shit,” satoru mutters, stumbling backwards and eyeing his now-soiled clothes. “this was a couple thousand dollars, damn it.”

you exhale a breathy laugh and turn around, leaning against the wall and meeting his half-lidded eyes. “you kidding? my dress was way more than that, and there’s no way i can wear that out now.”

satoru grins, running a hand through his ruffled hair and walking back towards you, touching your waist and sliding a finger over your dripping cunt. “you were so good f’me, baby. what were we arguing about again?”

“i have no idea,” you mumble, watching satoru lick his finger clean. he’s shameless—even as clarity returns to both of your minds, he still insists on dragging the moment on. not that you mind—that was the best sex you’d had in a while, even if it was too fast and in a bathroom.

“we should get back to the ceremony,” you say distractedly, pulling down your dress and frowning at the new wrinkles. “can i wear your suitjacket? i don’t want people to see this.”

satoru sticks out his bottom lip and pouts, looking you up and down. “but i like it. you look like you just got fucked by a really hot guy. oh, wait, that’s me!”

“you’re an asshole.”

before satoru can reply, the bathroom door opens, and you both jump out of your skins. thankfully, satoru had time to pull his pants on, otherwise it would’ve been significantly more embarrassing. suguru pokes his head in the bathroom and rolls his eyes when he sees you and satoru, and an exasperated sigh slips out of his lips when he sees your fucked-out states. 

“are you two seriously fucking during the awards?” suguru snaps, amber eyes glittering with dry amusement. you look away bashfully, tugging down your dress even farther out of embarrassment. satoru shrugs nonchalantly and walks over to suguru, offering his hand in search of a fistbump. 

suguru eyes him dubiously and crosses his arms. “did you wash your hands?”

“heh, no, not yet.”

ignoring satoru’s smug grin, suguru swats his arm away with the back of his hand, disgust evident all over his face. “gross, fuck off.” he turns to you and arches an eyebrow, looking you up and down disapprovingly. “you two should clean up before coming outside, otherwise they’ll probably take away your awards,” suguru adds, wrinkling his nose. “i’ll tell them you’re on your way.” 

“okay, thanks,” you mutter, face warmer than ever. suguru nods in response and leaves, and when you and satoru finally return to the awards ceremony, there’s plenty of whispers about you two, and most of them aren’t very family-friendly.

well, at the very least, nobody’s gonna doubt that you two were a couple now!