#because he spent 10 years in hell for this moment. this single moment. and the audience and the characters call him a monster | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gureumz · 8 months

Text

stained glass windows

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

notes: fem!reader, stepcest, dubcon, religious corruption, baby trapping (?), unholy use of scripture (sorry god), dom!jungwon, slight angst, mentions of death, step brother!jungwon, breeding, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, jay has a cameo appearance lol

a/n: so this is an amalgamation of everything everyone requested for jungwon,,,reciting bible verses during sex? i got you. stepcest? no problem. baby trapping (this is 100% what i want and yes my wish is my command)? you bet. religious corruption? hell yeah. something super filthy and kinky? say no more. enjoy, hoes! love ya mwa (the bible verse here is 1 Corinthians 10:13 if you were curious)

sundays are your happy days.

a pretty dress, the stained glass windows, hushed chatter among the churchgoers—these were all the things you waited for at the end of the week.

your mother had always been proud of how involved you are in your faith, showering you with loving words before going to bed when you were little, calling you 'hers and God's favorite angel'. you'd smile and feel a sense of giddiness. God's favorite angel. can you believe it? you made sure to wear that as a badge of honor.

and then you grew up, went to a bigger school, met people who are different from you. even those who you knew were like you, devoted and obedient to their parents and God, seemed to have strayed down the path of parties, drinks, and the unthinkable. that is to say, premarital sex.

you never understood the appeal of it all. your faith and God were enough. you didn't need to participate in such acts to feel anything. you felt Him in every waking moment.

until there came a time when you were convinced He was gone altogether.

until sundays stopped becoming your happy days. every single day was void of any happiness.

your father passed suddenly, leaving you and your mother to fend for yourselves. you watched your mother grieve, grieved on your own, alone in your room. you went to school and saw the excitement in your peers' eyes, talking about a party here and buying drinks there.

you nearly caved. anything to take your mind off your dad.

but this was when your mother spent nearly every day at the church, despite it being mostly empty every day other than sundays. without anything better to do, you tagged along. and you started to feel Him again.

you knew God returned for real when your mother became friendly with a newcomer at church. a businessman who recently moved to your town, towing his son along.

mr. yang, as you later learned. he had a son.

jungwon.

jungwon wore an easy smile, deep dimples appearing every time he did. he shook your hand with a hesitant grip, palms smooth and soft. he had eyes that seemed to sparkle.

seasons changed, months grew into years, and your mother and mr. yang got married.

you saw the life return to your mother's face, easing her shoulders back, smoothing out the creases in her weathered face.

sundays became your happy days again, now that mr. yang and jungwon were in your lives.

---

jungwon is the poster child for the perfect sibling. or, at least that's what you think.

it's been a couple of years since your parents' wedding, and jungwon was nothing short of accommodating. he was kind, always letting you have first picks at whatever food your parents prepared, and offered to do things for you.

granted, it wasn't always like this. the two of you skirted around each other the first few weeks, both former only children, suddenly dealt with the fact that they had a sibling exactly their age. there was even a period of time when jungwon would bolt at the sight of you. though, you tried to not take this to heart.

but after all has been said and done, the two of you fell into a routine, becoming friends of some sort. eternal housemates.

"hurry up. this will be the second week we're late because you couldn't decide what dress to wear."

you turn, spotting jungwon poking his head through the door.

"sorry," you reply bashfully. "these people don't see me on weekdays anymore since i'm off at campus, so you can't really blame me for wanting to make an entrance on the one day they do see me."

jungwon quirks an eyebrow.

"since when did you care what they think?" jungwon questions, stepping fully into your room. he's wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and crisp black pants.

you note that the watch he has on today makes him look particularly handsome.

you merely shrug. "i don't know. everyone at college dresses so nice and i thought i'd make an effort, too."

jungwon snorts. "everyone at college is a try-hard. it's a small-town liberal arts institution."

"hey, you're a student there, too," you point out, crossing your arms at jungwon.

you watch as he surveys your outfit, eyes slowly making your way down your body. you swallow, suddenly aware of how tight the yellow sundress feels. the fabric seems to dig at your armpits uncomfortably, and the hem is too short and—

"you look good," jungwon says, eyes meeting yours.

you breathe a sigh of relief.

"well, if you say so. i trust your word," you say, smoothing down your skirt.

you feel jungwon approach, circling an arm around your waist, ushering you towards the door.

"i am your brother. i think i'd know what would look good on you," jungwon points out with a wink.

---

the service goes by without a hitch. you participated as you always did, offered your prayers as you usually do. you thanked Him for another successful week of classes but also asking for you to ace your upcoming exams. it was all routine.

until your mother pulled you along, chirping excitedly about a new family that had moved to town and joined the church.

the parks.

a father, a mother, and their son who's a business major at some big-shot university a few towns over.

"i'm jay," the son said to you, reaching his hand towards you as his family introduced themselves to yours. you shook hands and you couldn't help the sudden heat that flooded your face and chest.

your hand still tingles with where he held on, even now on the car ride home

"that jay boy sure is cute," your mother says from the passenger seat. you turn to her, eyebrows raised.

"seems like he has a good head on his shoulders," your stepfather agrees. he looks at you through the rearview mirror.

"the kind of guy girls wanna marry."

you see your mother twist in her seat to give you a knowing look. you roll your eyes but the familiar warmth takes over your entire body again.

"i mean, i don't know. we just met him and his family," you point out, trying not to stutter. you turn to jungwon for backup but your brother has his back turned to you, his face angled toward the window.

"right, jungwon?" you try nonetheless.

"huh?" comes his clueless response. he looks at you and his face is crumpled in a frown. you're taken slightly aback.

before you can say anything, your mother speaks up.

"why don't you try and befriend him, jungwon? they said they only live on the next street over," your mother offers, unaware at how deep jungwon's frown has gotten in the seconds she said that sentence.

"i don't know," jungwon mumbles. "i can try, i guess."

you watch as jungwon turns back to the window, his hand balling into a fist on his lap. you decide not to pry, leaning your own head against the window beside you, watching the little houses in your neighborhood speed by.

---

you urge yourself to stop picking at your fingernails. but you can't help it, either. standing outside your brother's door, you're not sure what awaits you on the other side.

taking a deep breath, you decide to just get it over with. you're certain it's nothing. you're just concerned and you want to see how jungwon's doing.

you knock softly three times, waiting to hear jungwon's voice. after a few seconds, you hear a muffled, 'come in!'.

you push the door open a bit, taking a peek inside jungwon's room. he's sprawled on his bed, his phone in his hands as he scrolls through his screen. his eyes shift to you and he sits up.

"what's up?" jungwon asks as you let yourself in. you don't say anything until you're seated beside him on his bed.

"i didn't want to risk your wrath, so i wasn't sure if i should bring this up with you...," you begin, teeth worrying your lower lip.

jungwon raises a brow. "i don't know what you're talking about. but other than that, you know i can never get upset with you, right?"

you continue to bite down on your lip, unsure of what to say next.

"but you were upset today," you say after a few seconds. "in the car?"

jungwon's face morphs into mild recognition. he nods, finally understanding what you mean.

"oh, that," jungwon deadpans. "it's nothing."

"come on, you can tell me anything, remember?" you urge, pulling your legs up on jungwon's bed before crossing them. jungwon glances down as you do so but quickly averts his eyes back to your face.

"it's nothing, i swear. it's stupid and thinking back on it, it just seems like such a dumb thing to be mad about," jungwon explains, shifting closer to you.

you take his hand and you squeeze as jungwon threads his fingers through the gaps between yours.

your mother often remarked how the two of you seemed more like twins than regular siblings. mirror images of each other. the perfect balance. looking at jungwon now, you see what she meant.

"nothing you say would be stupid to me," you reply, voice soft as your thumb runs over the skin of jungwon's hand.

something flashes across jungwon's face and his eyes seem to trail over every part of you. your skin prickles as he stops right at your chest, pajama top showing the very tops of your breasts.

"i didn't like the way that jay guy was looking at you," jungwon finally admits, gaze returning to your face.

you look at jungwon quizzically. "what? how was he looking at me?"

"like he was undressing you with his eyes," jungwon complains. "he was practically flirting with you."

you laugh incredulously. "no, he wasn't. he said two words to me, wonie."

jungwon shakes his head. "i'm a man, too. i know how our brains and eyes work."

you stop for a second to ponder on jungwon's words. you can't deny the intensity of how jay seemed to be looking at you earlier and the way he held your hand so tight.

"so?" you retaliate. "he's cute. i don't mind."

you see jungwon's jaw clench, the muscles spasming under his skin. his lips press into a thin line and he pulls his hand back from your grasp.

"guys like that will only take advantage of you, _______," jungwon says, voice slow and deliberate.

your forehead creases. "how are you so sure?"

jungwon stares at you for a few moments. he reaches his hand out, cupping one side of your face in his palm. you gulp, your heart jumping at the contact.

"i just know. you trust me, right? i'm your brother, after all."

you nod.

your hand comes up to cover his that's on your face and the room seems to still. the steady hum of the ac fades away, the cicadas outside vanish, and the thumping of your own heart amplifies. jungwon is looking you square in the eye and you can't help but cower under his gaze.

just as jungwon makes a move to lean closer, a loud knock and your mother's voice rips the moment away.

"dinner's ready! come eat!"

jungwon pulls his hand back and you scramble off his bed. you hurriedly cross the room, flinging jungwon's bedroom door open and stepping out, not sparing another glance behind you.

---

you toss and turn that night.

your face still tingles from where jungwon touched you. your mind is reeling with so many thoughts, your imagination seemingly going into each and every unexplored direction.

you and jungwon grew close during the years you spent together since your parents got married. it was like becoming friends. you had to learn things about each other, know what makes the other tick. the two of you never shied away from showing who you truly are. you'd be living under the same roof for the most part, so what's the point in hiding, right?

and jungwon never hid his affection for you. brotherly hugs, encouraging pats on the back, kisses on your forehead. he told yu over and over again how happy he was that you were his sister. that you were the best sister.

and you never hid how much you needed jungwon, either. he taught you how to get home on the bus from college on the weekends. he helped you with any handiwork you required in your room. he gave you the ins and outs of the college cliques and clubs.

jungwon always told you he loves you. you always reached out to jungwon. neither was a secret.

so, what's making you so nervous?

before you can answer yourself, you hear the hinges of your door squeak as it opens. in the dim light of your room, you see a figure step through the doorway, startling you slightly.

"sorry, it's me," jungwon whispers. "i couldn't sleep."

you feel your heart quicken once more as you sit up, watching jungwon make his way to your bed. he plops down on the mattress and looks at you.

"mind if i crash here for a while?" jungwon asks quietly.

jungwon does this on some nights, reasoning the bouts of insomnia as he snuggles up to your side. half of the time he talks, telling you stories of what he did during the day, and the other half he spends holding you to his chest, fingers drawing patterns on your back.

on rare occasions, he asks you to turn away, pressing your back to his front. he sometimes rocks against you gently and whispers how much he loves you in your ear. you feel strange when he does this. but you never complain.

"sure," you reply, scooting to one side of the bed. jungwon moves to lay beside you, pulling the covers over him.

wordlessly, his hands find your hips, tugging you close. you let him, your own arms circling around jungwon's torso. he's warm and smells like fresh laundry. you don't hide the way you inhale his scent.

you stay like that for a few minutes and you almost think that jungwon has fallen asleep. but after a while, he pulls back slightly to look at you.

you meet his eyes, sharp shadows cast across jungwon's face from your night lamp situated on the other side of your room.

"stay away from jay," jungwon says. your mouth falls open in mild surprise.

"why?" you ask. jungwon sighs, cradling your face once more in his hand.

"he doesn't deserve you," jungwon responds, voice hardened with something you can't quite put your finger on.

jungwon's looking down at you and even in the darkened state of your room, you can see the seriousness in his expression. he's clearly still upset from earlier.

"but mom and dad seem to like him," you reason with a pout. jungwon lets out a 'tsk' grasping your face tighter.

you let out a whimper. jungwon was never this heavy-handed with you.

"but i don't like him," jungwon insists. "you need someone who knows you, who can do things for you, who loves you more than anything."

jungwon pushes you onto your back, his leg swinging over to plant his knee on your other side. he grabs at your wrists and presses them down, trapping you as he hovers over you, his face inches away from yours.

"you need me."

you gasp, unable to comprehend the words that had just left jungwon's mouth. you're given no time to work it out in your head because jungwon is kissing you, pressing his lips to yours. you protest, pushing against jungwon but he's too strong for you to fight back properly. he has you pinned down and there's nothing you can do.

"w-what are you doing?" you say as jungwon pulls away for a second. instead of answering, jungwon busies himself with your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin. you squirm and whine but jungwon doesn't let up.

"i love you," jungwon whispers in your ear.

you shiver.

"you love me, too, right?" jungwon questions as he looks at you. you blink away tears that have gathered in your eyes.

you're just so confused. what is he doing? what is happening?

"answer me, angel," jungwon urges gently. he leans down to kiss away at the tears streaming down the side of your face.

"i do," you return weakly.

"no no," jungwon tuts. "say it properly."

you sniffle as you feel more tears fill your eyes.

"i love you."

jungwon seems satisfied because he kisses you again, tongue running over the seam of your lips. you've never kissed anyone before and it feels so foreign, having jungwon's tongue licking into your mouth. but you follow what he does, parting your lips and moving your tongue with his.

jungwon groans, one of his hands letting go of your wrist to grab at your waist instead. he presses you to him and you feel something stiff against your thigh.

"you make me so hard, angel," jungwon groans. he grinds against your leg and you watch as his expression crumples into pleasure.

"t-this is wrong," you sob. "we're not supposed to do this."

and you do feel conflicted with it all. everything you've learned in church, everything you've read through His word, it all says that this is bad. that you should only lay with the man you love, the man you married.

oh, but you do love jungwon. you've loved him since the day you met him.

"do you want to stop?" jungwon asks, stilling above you. you continue to cry, your legs squeezing together as you feel wet heat pool in your underwear.

"God will forgive us, angel girl," jungwon coos, a hand dipping beneath your pajama top.

you mewl as you feel jungwon squeeze at one of your boobs.

"He knows how much we love each other, so he'll forgive us, don't you worry," jungwon reassures as he rolls your nipple between his fingers.

"then we'll make it up to Him with a cute little wedding at a faraway chapel," jungwon continues, his other hand tugging down your shorts and underwear.

you're breathing heavily now, head spinning as your whole body heats up. the ache between your legs grows stronger.

"then we'll have babies," jungwon says. "so many babies we'll be filling up our own pew at church."

you gasp as you feel jungwon's fingers press against your core, working on the nub that you've ever really encountered twice or thrice before, too scared to be condemned to hell if you continued to touch yourself.

"what if we have a baby now, huh?" jungwon asks, placing a chaste kiss to your temple. "make you a mommy so no one can take you from me."

you shake your head, initially appalled at his words, but the thought of carrying jungwon's child, it stirs something in you.

"no?" jungwon asks, voice hinting with playfulness. "you don't want it?"

you look up at jungwon, struggling to find the words to say. you want it but your conscience screams at you to refuse.

"i want it," you finally answer. "want to give you a baby."

"fuck," jungwon curses as the words leave your mouth. he hurriedly discards his shorts, eyes seemingly ablaze.

"yeah? gonna give your brother a baby?" jungwon taunts, fingers circling at your core again. you moan wantonly, a million different feelings coursing through your body.

jungwon pokes in one finger through your entrance and you nearly scream, unprepared for the strange sensation.

"sshhh," jungwon says, pressing down on your mouth with one hand. he adds a second finger in slowly and your back arches off the bed.

"look at you," jungwon says with a grin. "your body responds so well to me, huh, angel?"

you cry into jungwon's palm as you feel him pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them inside every time he pushes in. you feel a tightness in your belly and more wetness pooling out of you. your body jolts with every movement of jungwon's fingers.

"shit, i can't take this anymore," jungwon mutters, pulling his fingers out. you whine, hips involuntarily pushing up as they search for friction.

"i got you," jungwon says, taking his hand off your face. the room is filled with your soft sobs, a mix of the lingering guilt and the newfound pleasure.

jungwon strokes his shaft a few times and you watch with bated breath as he aligns himself between your legs. you feel him push against you and you start to cry even harder, fear of what's to come gripping you like no other.

jungwon pushes halfway in and any scream threatening to break free from your lips is muted by jungwon pressing his mouth to yours. you cry and cry and cry as jungwon keeps pushing in, burying himself to the hilt seconds later.

he stills, pulling away to let you breathe. you hiccup, the stretch between your legs equal parts painful and filling in the best way possible.

"s-so big," you sob. "c-can feel you in my belly."

jungwon groans, his hip snapping up involuntarily. you whine, biting down hard on your lip.

"yeah? can you feel me here?" jungwon asks, a large hand pressing down on your lower abdomen. he starts to move then, slowly pulling out then thrusting back in.

"yes!" you gasp. "yes, yes, it's so deep."

"God, angel, you sound so beautiful when you're being fucked," jungwon says, speeding up.

"recite to me your favorite bible verse," jungwon commands. you barely hear him with the way he's moving his hips against yours.

"w-what?" you mumble in a daze.

jungwon takes hold of your face, forcing you to look directly at him.

"your favorite bible verse, angel girl. let me hear your pretty voice."

you rack your brain for it. you should know it by heart, have it seared into your consciousness. but the way jungwon is taking you right at this moment wipes away nearly all thoughts of scripture.

"no temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man," you begin, trying to keep your voice steady as jungwon scrutinizes you, fingers still digging into your cheeks.

"God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability," you continue. jungwon smirks, nodding, urging you to go on.

you're about to speak when you feel jungwon's thumb press down on your sensitive nub. you cry out, the added sensation muddling your brain even further.

"go on," jungwon orders.

"b-but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to e-ndure it," you finish with a shaky breath.

"good job, angel," jungwon says, letting go of your face and leaning in to kiss you briefly on your forehead.

your head falls back against your pillow, your vision blurring as all you can feel is jungwon moving in and out of you. all you can think of is jungwon. all you ever need, right at this moment, is jungwon.

your brother. the man you love. the man you want to have all your babies with.

"so tight, so fucking tight," jungwon babbles, pushing your legs up so he can get a better angle. your lower half rises off the bed and jungwon fucks into you even harder, snapping his hips against your insides with a force that has you gripping onto your sheets for dear life.

jungwon continues on like this, sweat dripping down his forehead. any pain is gone now, replaced with a want, a need for some sort of release.

you don't know what compels you to talk, but you can't help the next words that come out of your mouth.

"p-please, jungwon. feels so good. w-wanna be a mommy, want it so bad. n-need it!"

jungwon seems to let himself go then, hips moving erratically, not caring if you're bent nearly in half, his grip on your thighs painful as his fingernails poke at your skin. it feels good, you think, your insides clenching and tingling at the sight of jungwon getting nearly animalistic with you.

it almost fills you with joy. knowing that he's only ever like this with you.

a few moments later, jungwon's hips start to stutter.

"gonna give you my babies, angel girl. i'm so close, so close to making you a mommy—fuck!"

the words from jungwon stop any coherent thought in your brain as a sort of euphoria takes over you, your whole body tightening up. jungwon completely stills, pressing himself in deeper. a warm feeling spreads from where he's sheathed inside you.

the two of you remain unmoving, panting as your minds catch up with your bodies. jungwon pulls out moments later, replacing his cock with his fingers. you protest weakly as jungwon moves his fingers shallowly in and out of you.

"i came so much, angel," jungwon says with a chuckle. he pulls his fingers out and shows you his fingers, coated with his milky white release.

"your belly's gonna be all swollen up in nine months, for sure," jungwon muses, pushing his fingers against your mouth. you part your lips hesitantly, licking at the saltiness.

"good girl," jungwon praises, pulling his hand away before kissing you sweetly.

"i love you," jungwon mumbles against your lips.

you hold his face steady, thumbs rubbing at his cheeks. you meld your lips together, the elation finally catching up to you.

there are no stained glass windows in your room, your body bare and void of pretty dresses, and the night is still and quiet.

it's still sunday. it's still your happy day.

"i love you, too," you say as you and jungwon share a smile.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jungwon smut #jungwon scenarios #w: jungwon

2K notes · View notes

indigovigilance · 7 months

Text

Every single minisode is Aziraphale's memory, and why that's [not?] important

There is extensive meta-analysis, my own included, that Before the Beginning is a doctored memory resulting from erasure of Angel!Crowley, and that the trace of him that is left in Aziraphale's memory is the Starmaker, so that this is what we see at the opening of S2. With this foundation of "some scenes are altered memories," we can critically examine the minisodes and see that, in fact, they are ALL Aziraphale's memories that are potentially subject to doctoring.

Evidence (and exploration) below the cut:

A Companion to Owls

The largest part (S2E2 22:10 to 44:00) Book of Job flashback is book-ended by Aziraphale leaning over the physical Book of Job in his bookshop. We enter the memory when Aziraphale enters it, we leave it when he leaves it. Pretty straightforward.

The Ressurrectionists

Similarly, in S2E3, we begin the first flashback to 1827 with Aziraphale's "dear diary" entry. We flash out each time to Aziraphale: in the car to Edinburgh, getting out of the car at the Ressurrectionist Pub, and with Aziraphale staring up at the statue of Gabriel while standing in the graveyard in Edinburgh, respectively for each of the three flashbacks. This all strongly indicates that we've been in his memory.

Nazi Zombie Flesheaters

I didn't even notice until I was doing research for this that basically the entire episode takes place in 1941. From the end of the main title at 5:00 to 37:50, we never come out of the 1941 story. But what is interesting is what bookends this minisode.

Before the main title, Shax has tricked her way into Aziraphale's car and alludes to a time when a rumor started about our ineffable husbands:

Sometime in the last 80 or 90 years I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item. I didn't believe it then. Not really. Poor old Furfur.

And when we flash back to modern day, we first go to Hell with Shax proposing a full frontal assault on the bookshop, and then we get:

Aziraphale has arrived back in SOHO, and has spent the 8 hour drive reminiscing about what Shax alluded to.

But this part gets even weirder. Because the final line of the episode is:

You're really hosting the meeting? Absolutely! And I can guarantee you: it will be a night to remember!

What this means in context of the 3 memory sequence

This line has been taken by a lot of analysts as a reference to A Night to Remember by Walter Lord, a collection of first person accounts of passengers of the Titanic. Most notably, the thematic ties of this work to the cinematographic design of Good Omens are captured by this quote:

A key to Lord's method is his technique of adopting an unconventional approach to the chronology of the event, "[taking] an imaginative approach to time and space in which hours and minutes prove extremely malleable, the ship itself seems almost infinitely complex, and the disaster assumes order and unity from far away."

Which is an amazing connection, and probably true, in that it was a deliberate reference by the writers. "Malleability of time and space" describes well how this show is put together for us the viewer. But it also illustrates how Aziraphale experiences his relationship with Crowley; skipping over centuries at a time, while dwelling on and protracting intimate moments spent together, create a cohesive whole when viewed from a distance. That whole is their relationship. [Which is about to go down like an unsinkable ship.]

But absent the literary reference, we could even take this line for its literal meaning. Aziraphale is talking about forming new memories, after we have spent the last three episodes living in his memories of times with Crowley that were key to shaping their relationship. This isn't a S1E3-style series of allusions to a furtive, flirtatious, and organically blossoming intimacy; these are rough events where the two are shoved into moral quandaries and forced to make some really difficult decisions that bring them closer together and define "their side." These are core memories, and incredibly precious to Aziraphale. And now, after a few short days in which he has spent a lot of time ruminating on these intense memories, he is embarking upon the task of making another important memory, that is, dancing with Crowley.

Why We Care

Because memories can be altered, all of the information we get from these episodes is subject to a reliable narrator problem. As of the Gabriel trial, we know that memories can be doctored even when the person in question isn't present. Crowley knows that his memories have been removed or altered, and has put painful effort into retrieving them. Aziraphale may not realize that he has suffered the same fate. These memories that he holds so dear might not even be true.

Memory, Identity, and the Relevance of Fidelity

We would probably expect to get some "corrections" to these memories in S3, to see exactly what kind of manipulations our heroes suffered and what that reveals about the motivations of the perpetrators. That's how a paranormal mystery story with a memory manipulation element would normally proceed.

But it will be even more significant if we don't; it would speak to a philosophy-of-self that you are not the product of your objective past, but of what you remember, and so we don't get to know what actually happened because it doesn't matter to informing us about who Aziraphale is.

Aziraphale's love for Crowley springs from what he remembers about their shared past; it doesn't necessarily matter that the memories aren't true, because the love is.

~~~

I realize that I kinda buried the lead, so if you reblog, please tag appropriately? I'm taking suggestions.

If you want to read more on this topic, this meta by @ineffable-suffering is a good place to go.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #memory #good omens memory #erasure theory #ivoc

258 notes · View notes

jakeyt · 3 months

Text

Covet: Chapter 10 (Sneak Peek)

a/n: A little peek inside Jake's head... chapter 10, the true first look at how Jake will take the news. You'll see the first few weeks of him knowing once the whole chapter is here. Eeeek!!

However, here is the mess of his mind once he first finds out......

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake's POV

There was no doubting her. Not for a single second. The baby was mine and I’d known it in my heart before I asked.

I really just wanted to hear her say it.

During our time together, just like she’d been it for me, I knew in my heart that I’d been it for her. I’d known her, backwards and forwards.

And, within that time that I knew her so well, we’d become close. So close that, without meaning to make it—us— more, we’d made what we had more.

Shaking my head, I gave her a better look, not able to put into words what the fuck I was feeling. So, I let my eyes trail down her body, covered only by a towel.

She adjusted her towel, tighter around her body. Was she self conscious? She shouldn’t have been. She was always beautiful. So beautiful. And I was afraid pregnancy was only going to enhance her beauty. . . I noticed as she tightened her towel, the action made her full breasts spill even more from the top of the towel.

I averted my eyes, willing my dick to not react. Instead, I trained my eyes below, on her belly.

And now that I knew, I could see. Even through the fluffiness of the towel, I could see a certain roundness to her belly that had never been there before. A full-blown bump. Still small by some standards, but big enough that I should have fucking noticed.

Not able to help it, my eyes scanned her heaving chest again, the tops of her tits fully exposed above the towel. It made so much sense why I’d noticed them looking bigger. . . Because they were bigger. Growing. Every day. To nourish a baby.

Our baby.

I looked away from her. . . I couldn’t look at her right now.

Not when she— when I. . . God.

How had I been so oblivious?! I lived with her for Christ’s sake. Was it my fault that I hadn’t allowed myself to be more present in her life? Was it because I was seeing Maya now?

God. No. It wasn’t on me to watch for things like that anymore. Not since she’d told me that I’d served my purpose. That I was just convenient. . . And all of the other hateful shit she’d spit in my face that day.

The day my heart fucking broke after pounding in my chest. . . Pleading with her to help me understand all of it.

But she didn’t fucking stop . . . Just kept going. Breaking me. Saying things I never, in a million years, ever wanted to hear from her.

I’d let her become more in my life. I foolishly thought it was meant to last. Thought that she had become my someone. More than relationship. More than friends. She had just . . . Been there. She’d nestled into a place made just for her in my heart. Like she was supposed to have been there all along.

I’d never wanted her to leave.

But she’d wanted to. She’d put her foot down, not leaving any goddamn room for argument.

And my heart. . . Fucking broken after beating the hardest it ever had in my chest. . . Shattered into an infinite number of tiny shards at my feet. I’d spent days picking up the shreds, my hands getting cut every time I tried to fix in me what she’d torn apart.

There was a part of me that knew exactly why she’d done it. I fucking knew. But there was no use in entertaining what I knew to be true when she refused to acknowledge the truth.

The night we’d smoked and I’d told her that I— she’d told me that she— Jesus. The moment had been so real, so solid. . . Even being under the influence, I felt the connection we’d made in that moment.

I thought about the words everyday after that night. And the words continued to echo for weeks after I’d left the kitchen on that hellish day.

Then there was the transcendental sex we’d had when we made it into her room. . . She’d been so wet, waiting for me. . . Fuck it all. That sure as hell hadn't left my mind. It wouldn't ever.

Wait— the night we’d smoked. . . We hadn’t used. . .

Was that when—?

The inside of my brain was just going fucking insane and I couldn’t— goddammit!

I tucked Josh's goddamn phone in my pocket, and ran a hand through my hair a couple of times. The other hand still held my keys, flexing over and over. I needed to do something with my hands. Besides balling them into fists and creating divots in one palm with my fingertips and the other with my keys.

I was tired of just standing there, in front of this woman I’d fallen for at a time when I thought I’d never want to love again. . . The same woman who’d shattered me. And, now, the very same woman who was carrying my child. . .

There was no use in trying to organize any thoughts.

Pacing seemed to be the only option. So, back and forth, back and forth, I walked in about a foot of space. Just waded in these uncharted fucking waters.

All I knew at this moment was she was pregnant. And she’d lied to me about it.

How long had she—? How far along was—?

And why in the hell had Josh known before me?! Of all fucking people . . .

Fuck!

“Jake,” her voice tore through the catastrophic mess of shit in my head.

I didn’t look at her.

How could I? When she’d left me in the dark. Once again, prioritized Josh over me. Even when it came to my child. Absolutely fucking incredible.

“Jake, please,” she muttered, voice cracking on the word please. My heart couldn’t handle the sound. “I can’t— I’m not in the right state of mind to just—," she squeaked, the sound of tears clear in her tone.

I stopped pacing and peered up at her finally, my hair surely a mess when I let my eyes pierce hers.

But as soon as I made eye contact with her, I softened. I hated to see her cry. Hated it. And the sobs wracking her were unexpected and it hurt me to stand there and watch her like that.

But— she’d brought this on herself. Right?! Fuck.

As much as I wanted to walk to her and hug her, I didn’t. I stayed where I was, offering a half-assed condolence. It wasn’t her turn to hurt over this.

I was the one just finding out. Not her.

“Y/n,” I tried, weakly. But god it sucked to say her name right now. “Just— god. There are so many—.”

“Questions, I know,” she finished, sniffling. She walked a couple hesitant steps toward me. But I took two back, away from her.

The way her body slacked at my action made me want to take it back. There were a lot of things I wanted to do. Some understandable, some not so much. I wanted to cry. Kiss her. Hug her. Feel her. Help her. Scream at her.

But, she was right. I did have so many fucking questions.

“How long?” I asked, breath shallow, never letting my eyes leave hers.

She kept up, not looking away from me. “How long have I known? Or how long have I been—?”

“Both.”

“I—,” she stuttered, closing her eyes tight, her beautiful face contorted in what I could only assume was emotional turmoil.

I watched as she balled her fists, clenching them a few times. Then, as she released them, she seemed to plant her feet firmly on the floor— her body, rigid and straight.

When she opened her eyes and found mine again, I could clearly see the tears that had accumulated on her lashes. And her eyes, that would forever take my breath away, were daring to shed more of them.

“Don’t cry,” I couldn’t help but calmly reassure her, my voice soft as I went to stand closer to her again. Not close. Just— closer. “Just. . . keep going. Talk me through it. Talk us through it.”

She breathed deeply, in and out, once. I strained to not let my eyes fall to her chest— to admire the way that her fuller breasts would rise and fall. . .

I resisted, focusing on her eyes - her face. Her face, rivaling all gods of beauty, always daring to bewitch me.

After taking one more calming breath, she began. “I’m three months,” she paused momentarily, as if thinking of something. “Three months today, actually.”

Three months.

“And how long have you known?”

“I’ve known for about a month,” she responded, bringing her shoulders higher and sniffling once. She blinked once, tightening her fists once more. “That’s not to say I told anyone right away. I kept it to myself. I was scared. I didn’t know what the fuck to do.”

I let her words sit in the air for a few minutes, thought them through at least five times before I couldn’t keep the next question to myself any longer.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hm.... what will his next question be???? I'll give you one guess 🙄

also, I love how much he already loves her changing body..... liiiiike..... 👀

#but for real #omg guys #i am /so/ excited to show you where this goes now that he knows......#a new beginning #that's for sure #covet #sneak peek

84 notes · View notes

lurkingshan · 10 months

Text

10 Things I Love About 3 Will Be Free

I am very late on this one, I know it! But this week I finally sat down with @wen-kexing-apologist and binged the whole thing, and had a grand ol’ time doing it. @waitmyturtles the verdict is two enthusiastic thumbs up. This was such a fun romp, and here are a few of the things I loved most about it:

SHIN MY BELOVED

Guess who has a new blorbo!! In hindsight it is absolutely absurd that it took a Tay Tawan girlie like me so long to watch this show, because Shin is an instant entry on the all-time fav characters list. I love his sad gay ass. He’s sensitive, he’s lonely, he’s repressed, he’s far too susceptible to Stockholm syndrome, and I would protect him with my life.

Mae

A working class trans character with an actual plot?! Thank you for your endless gifts, P’Jojo. Sure, my girl Mae made some questionable choices (just a little light murder!), but listen, I support her, in the words of @wen-kexing-apologist, embracing her feminine rage. And in the end, she figured out exactly the right target for her rage and lived her best life.

Miw

A Survivor. Gets shit done. Absolutely will kill a man if he forces her hand. Loyal to her boyfriends even when it would probably be smarter to ditch them. Also, she so pretty.

Neo’s tanks and crop tops

I never claimed not to be shallow.

Neo and Shin’s backstory

Episode 5 was my favorite of the show and the moment it really clicked for me. I loved getting a glimpse of Shin’s lonely and dejected teen years (I just wanna talk, Ken 🔪🔪🔪). I loved that the basis of Neo and Shin’s relationship and initial attraction was the way they played together. Shin laughed more in his few days with Neo than he probably had in the several years preceding them. I loved that Neo gave him his first kiss and that Shin treasured those memories so dearly.

The Worst Criminals Of All Time

Truly remarkable these three are still alive by the end of the show. Their ideas were half-baked and their execution was severely lacking. They never had a plan they thought all the way through and they never had a single scheme that went off without a hitch. Luckily, the bad guys chasing them were also thoroughly incompetent, so it all evened out. The only smart person in this show was Miw’s mom, who knew the only prudent move was to stay the hell out of this mess.

Miw and Shin’s friendship

I just love that these two developed their own bond, even though they’re not into each other the same way they’re both into Neo. They both risked their lives to save the other. They tease and joke with each other. Shin literally wanted to bring his new bestie home to live with him. They’re adorable.

This weird little guy

Toptap. My guy. What are you doing here and why are you being so strange? Are you good, are you bad, are you chaotic neutral? Who can tell! Certainly not me. But I enjoyed every moment your weird ass was on the screen.

There's a polyamorous relationship, and it’s depicted onscreen!

Okay, here’s the part where I admit my expectations for the poly romance in this show were a liiiiiiilttle off base. I must gently rib the fandom for leading me to believe this show would have any actual sex in it (or really a focus on romance at all) and once again recite to myself a universal truth: gifs removed from context are so misleading. At the same time, I also must acknowledge how groundbreaking it was at the time to depict polyamory at all. I would have loved a bit more time spent on the actual relationship dynamics and the emotional complexities of this triad they formed, but I recognize that’s not really what this show was about and appreciate they included a polycule in the first place. Now that it’s 2023 and he’s been give a lot more freedom, I look forward to Jojo’s further exploration of sexy polycules in Only Friends.

Against all odds, these crazy kids got their happy ending

When this show started I did not see any way for them to come out of this in good shape. I was going to be happy if they simply survived. But not only did they survive, they are thriving! Shin has inherited his dad’s legitimate business and discovered he looks hot in a deep V. Neo and Miw are living that beach life they deserve. Everyone loves each other and everyone is at peace. A+, 10/10, would watch again.

#3 will be free #3wbf #thai drama #10 things #shan shouts into the void

124 notes · View notes

rosepascal · 10 months

Text

The Light Of All Lights: Chapter 2 || Teacher!Joel Miller x Teacher!Reader

summary: A new girl joins your class and the lingering friendship (?) with Joel takes a turn

warnings: character death, mean parents.

a/n: Okay I finallyyyy wrote the second chapter oops. But I love teacher joel so much even if I had some writers block for this series lol

series masterlist

10 years ago

“Dad! Wake up we’re gonna be late!” Joel shot out of bed.

“Alright!” His morning voice was in full effect as he blindly threw the covers off his bed.

He should be used to waking up early given he’s been a teacher for years but sometimes he just needs some sleep. Life had been exhausting. Long hours, not enough pay, dealing with parents and the admin. Not to mention raising a teenage girl by himself.

Though to be honest Sarah’s been able to make herself breakfast since she was nine. Joel rubbed his eyes and sighed. He was like a zombie as he got dressed and headed downstairs. The day ahead of him is already filled with dread as the list of things to do in his head only grew longer.

“Get your homework done?” He asked as he took a sip of his coffee. His face scrunched up in disgust at the awful taste. Sarah rolled her eyes as she handed Joel a cup of orange juice instead.

“Get yours done?” He chuckled and shook his head. She never missed a beat with him.

“Alright let's go.” He smiled as she threw her backpack on her shoulder.

Everything felt normal. The car started and Sarah sat in the front seat like always. Her head bopping to whatever station she put on. Apparently his taste in music was “outdated”. He takes the same road he always does. Hitting every red light on the way.

One moment he was listening to Sarah talk about her math test. The next everything went black. When Joel wakes up Tommy’s by his side. He wouldn’t meet his eyes. There were tubes hooked up to his arms and his head hurt like a bitch.

“Sarah.” Is all he could rasp out. Fighting the pain in his limbs as he looked around for any signs of his daughter. Tommy closed his eyes. Shaking his head and Joel got angry. It was like he was feeling every feeling all at once but anger was the one that was winning inside of him.

“Where. Is. She.” His voice was raspy and every part of his body screamed in pain as he sat up, ripping the tubes and wires out of him.

The alarms blared but he couldn’t give less of a shit. Sarah had to be somewhere. In another room. She was alive and he was going to fight like hell to get to her. Nurses rushed to his room to get him to calm down. The stitching on his sides were ripping as he got onto his feet. His knees give out on him as he takes a single step.

“SARAH!” He yelled. The heart rate monitor beeped faster as he fought off whoever was putting their hands on him.

It wasn’t until he felt a small prick that the world around him started to fade and his will to right became less and less. When he woke up the second time all he could do was stare at the white ceiling. It didn’t matter how many times the Doctor tried to talk to him he didn’t listen. He was a ghost of the man he was. It was all a blur. Being released. Stepping into the house. Sarah’s funeral. Nothing was the same.

It never will be.

- - -

It’s been a week since the first meeting. You hate the way that you look at Joel now. How some gossip keyed you into the most tragic moment of someone's life. It felt wrong to learn that way but no matter how hard you could try, it would never leave your mind.

Silently you type away on your laptop. Your free period is spent catching up on grading. Your eyes drift towards the back wall, the one with Joel on the other side of it. Your thoughts wander to him again.

Maybe it was some weird thing now that you know about…well his past or maybe it was because you’ve been forced to spend time with him but you swear he’s becoming nicer to you. Friendlier. And you swear his eyes sparkle in a way that you never noticed. A knock on your door pulls you from your wandering mind and you’re grateful for it.

“Yes?” You close your laptop as Mrs. Barker opens your door. A girl stands behind her looking awkwardly at the ground.

“Hi, This is Ellie. I sent you an email last week about her.” Mrs. Barker says flatly. She’s not the friendliest woman.

You did get an email about a girl joining your freshman english class. You didn’t know much about her other than she was registered late for school. Offering her a warm smile you hold out your hand to shake.

“Hi Ellie, it’s wonderful to meet you.” She looks at your hand for a moment before taking it.

“She’s in your next class so I brought her here to get started.” Before you could say anything else Mrs. Baxter leaves. Sighing you tell Ellie to sit at a desk.

“So..Does she always walk around like she’s got a stick up her ass or?” Ellie asks and you snort. Normally you’re supposed to discourage that kind of language in a classroom but she caught you off guard.

“Mrs. Baxter…Has a lot of work to do so she can be a bit uptight.” Ellie raises her eyebrow and you laugh.

“So Ellie, tell me about yourself.” Her arms wrap around her backpack as she slides down in the seat.

“Not much to say,”

“Well I hope you have a great year this year.” You smile and she just nods.

You don’t expect her to open up to you at all or even like you but you want to give all your students a good year so you hope you can at least do that for her. You let Ellie hang out in your class until the next period, she wanders around and looks at your decorations before excusing herself to the bathroom.

After about 10 minutes you start to get nervous. Closing your laptop you walk outside for any sign of her. She left her backpack so she wouldn’t have just left the school right?

“Are you always this loud?” You hear Joel ask someone. Looking into his door you see Ellie sitting on one of his desks, her feet swinging back and forth as she munches on a fruit roll up.

“Ellie! You can’t just go running off like that.” You say gently as you walk into his classroom.

“I’m sorry Joel.” You apologize but he just shrugs.

“He doesn’t mind. He likes me.” Ellie says while smiling at Joel who just looks up at her and sighs. The bell rings for break and the halls begin to fill with kids.

“Go to class kid.” He says.

“I don’t know where my next class is.”

“Figure it out.” He says without sympathy.

“I’ll help you Ellie.” You offer and she smiles at you.

“See, that’s what a nice teacher sounds like.” She sticks her tongue out at Joel who just waves her off, a hint of a smile on his face.

“I’ll be waiting!” She hops off the desk and heads out of Joel's classroom.

“You ready for tonight?” Joel asks, taking you by surprise.

“Oh uh, yeah. I only have a few meetings today so. Won’t be too bad.” You answer nervously.

Joel’s never been one for small talk so it’s unexpected to hear him say more than a few sentences to you. But it was a nice gesture. Your first parent teacher conferences were daunting but nothing you couldn’t handle, probably.

“Good luck.” He says as students start to file into his class.

You nod and leave, a sudden nervousness settling over you as you help Ellie find her next class. Ellie’s sweet even if she’s got a mouth on her and you’re excited for the rest of the year. Though her relationship with Joel seemed interesting. Like they already knew each other despite Joel teaching seniors and Ellie being new.

She spoke to him without fear and he seemed to match her interesting sense of humor. Those thoughts float to the back of your mind as the day passes. The bell rings and students hurry out of class to their freedom.

Settling your papers you wait for your first meeting. Which goes fine. They aren’t exactly the most attentive parents as they don’t seem like they want to be there. Waving you off as you try and explain how their kid is doing in class. They leave, taking their kid with them and it’s clear none of them were paying attention to you.

The next few meetings go about the same. Some parents don’t care while others are overly involved. Asking you about extra credit and extra reading. The complete spectrum of parents is overwhelming to be honest. But as the clock hits five you’re ready for your final meeting. This is the one you were waiting for.

Matthew is a wonderful student. He asks questions and he tries his best every day. The only thing is that he seems to have trouble with assignments. You know he’s trying but he just can’t seem to grasp the concept fully. You try to help him when you can but you think he could benefit from tutoring. When his parents walk in you greet them happily but they seem anything but interested in you. As you begin to explain tutoring options for Matthew they get angry.

“You’re his teacher. If anyone is to blame here it’s you.” His mom spits angrily.

“No one is to blame here Mrs. Davis. Matthew is a wonderful student, he just needs some extra help, that's all.” You try to explain to her but neither of his parents want to listen.

“You are just as incompetent as the last teacher, we’ll be speaking to the administration.” They stand up and leave.

Tears welling up in your eyes as they slam your door. It feels stupid to cry but her words really cut deep.

All you wanted was to help these kids and it hurts to hear someone be so mean to you. You suppose you should get used to this. Mean parents are common but fuck it hurts. Burying your face in your hands you let out quiet sobs. In your sadness you don’t hear the door open or the man walk into your class.

“Hey, is everythin’ alright?” Joel gently touches your shoulder causing you to jump. He steps back and raises his hands.

“M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Of course to add insult to injury Joel finds you a mess in your room. Wiping your eyes you try to organize papers on your desk.

“I’m alright thanks for asking.” You mumble as you stuff papers into your bag. Joel shakes his head and sits on a desk in front of yours.

“I heard that lady yellin’ at you.” He admits and you stop. Your shoulders sag as you lean back in your chair.

“I know I know, I shouldn’t be crying over a mean parent.” “I never said that.”

“But you were thinking it.” Joel crosses his arms and looks at you, his stare making you nervous.

“No. I’m not.” His sternness makes you shiver, it feels like you’re being scolded.

“How…How do you deal with it all?” You ask him.

How does he deal with it? The shitty administration, the uncaring parents, the pressure, battling the want to help with the reality of what that means.

“Look. You can’t help everyone. It’s not possible.” He starts. He notices the way you deflate and it bothers him.

“But, if you can help one kid. Make a difference in one life. Then it’s worth it.”

“Thank you.” You whisper as your tears stop.

Joel nods, letting out a small noise to let you know that he heard you. He gets up and starts to leave but you stop him. He doesn’t really talk to anyone like this but you love this side of him and there’s a selfish craving to see more of it. To get him to open up to you little by little.

“Joel, um..Would you like to join me for lunch? I’ll pay as a thank you.” Your heart pounds in your chest as he stops.

Were you too forward? Did you mess it up? With every passing second the rejection seeps in. But turns and with a small smile on his face, one that you’d never seen but want to see more of every day.

“Yeah, I’d be happy to.” He offers you a small nod before leaving.

Excitement bubbles in your chest as you pack up your things. Slowly you’ve befriended Joel and while it's exciting for you, to Joel it's terrifying.

Letting someone in, it doesn’t come easy. He should've said no. Panic starts to set in as he reaches for his phone to call you. To tell you that he changed his mind. He opens his desk drawer and he picks up his phone. But he stops.

Hidden under stacks of paper is a small picture of him and Sarah. She took it on her polaroid camera, the one she begged him to buy for her 12th birthday. They’re so happy. Her smile makes his heart ache. He picks it up and ghosts his fingers along the edge of the picture.

“Miss you baby girl.” He mumbles sadly as he sets the picture down.

If she could see him now. She’d probably be so mad at him. Tell him to stop being such a grump all the time. She’d like you, he thinks. Putting the picture away in his desk he turns off his phone. Deciding that maybe going to lunch with you won’t be too bad.

Maybe having a friend wouldn’t be too bad.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #teacher!joel miller #pedro pascal x reader

91 notes · View notes

sapphire-weapon · 9 months

Note

You said that part of the fun of old fandom was making backstories for the characters. did you have one for Leon? what was it?

oh boy. this feels so... self-indulgent and cringey now in modern-day fandom, after having dedicated so much time to arguing what is or isn't canon and having to explain multiple times, at great lengths, that the mafia backstory is not canon and why it's not. my brain is just like "shut up and just be glad that people are starting to listen to you at all."

I've mentioned a few of them here and there sporadically over the past few months, so some of these are going to sound very familiar to people who have been following me for a while, but

this is basically the backstory I've come up with for Leon and have been using for mmmm around 20 years, give or take (though I tweaked some slight things to account for Remake Leon, which I'll also note):

● grew up in a suburb around the Hartford, CT area

● only child

● very religious/uptight Catholic mom, dad was basically Mike Cosgrove from Freakazoid

● like seriously, the personalities of his parents couldn't be more different, to the point where it almost doesn't make sense to anyone on the outside looking in how they ended up together at all. but his mom really loves how stable and grounded her husband is and appreciates his really awful sense of humor, and dad fell in love with his wife's cooking and the way she actually laughs at his jokes and the fact that she really believes in something greater than herself -- because he doesn't, and he wishes he did. they also share a taste in music, surprisingly.

● "Scott" is a family name, but Leon's dad was already "the third" and he was like "you really wanna put this kid through being 'the fourth'? that's stupid. just make it his middle name." Leon has never told a single person in his adult life this, but his parents and his very early childhood friends (up until about middle school) actually called him "Scottie" -- because "Scott" was his dad. (yes this headcanon was born directly from how funny I find the whole "Mr. Scott Kennedy" shit in OG RE4 and I'm not sorry) mom's name is Carol.

● mom was a middle school geography teacher (and CCD teacher). dad was a cop (he was bASICALLY COSGROVE)

● was always closer with his dad than his mom, despite the fact that his mom very clearly and very desperately wanted him to be a mama's boy. it wouldn't be quite correct to say that his mom was emotionally abusive, but she definitely didn't Get Him and very rarely actually listened to what he had to say -- she had a pre-constructed image in her head of the kind of person she wanted him to be, and anything that didn't fit that image was either questioned or ignored outright. (NOTE FOR REMAKE-VERSE LEON: this was even worse for Remake Leon, who has a lot more self-awareness than his OG counterpart and started to suspect that he may not be fully straight pretty early in life, even if his conservative upbringing didn't give him the language to express what, exactly, he was feeling. he had a crush on a boy once, vaguely mentioned it in a very roundabout way to his mom, and then spent the next like 10 years convinced he was going to hell. see here for a more in-depth explanation of how I view Leon's sexuality.) dad gave far less of a shit about who his kid was, so long as he wasn't doing dumb shit to get himself in trouble or arrested or something. as a result, Leon's really stupid sense of humor came from his dad, because they did spend a decent amount of time together. the two of them + Leon's uncle (dad's brother), who was maybe a little bit off his rocker, always went hunting once a year.

● was never super religious like his mom is, but still definitely believed. didn't pray regularly -- but prayed enough. he can pinpoint the exact moment that he lost his faith, though: when, while in Raccoon City, he first considered suicide -- and he realized that he was looking not to God for salvation, but to his gun. even as an adult, he won't outwardly classify himself as an atheist, but his general feelings towards God and faith are: "if God is up there, He's not listening anymore."

● wasn't ever super popular in school, but was never an outcast loser nerd, either. he was just kind of... there. he had his own little circle of skater kid/grungecore and metalhead friends, and they just kind of did their own thing.

● didn't actually start to get hot until senior year of high school and kind of thought that people were taking the piss when they started looking at him differently after he'd been so completely ignored as a dating/sexual prospect for so long. plus he had a girlfriend by then, and they'd been together for a while, so he didn't really think too hard about how other people were looking at him, anyway.

● he and his long-term high school girlfriend broke up before they both went off to college, mutually, just because they were going to different schools. (NOTE FOR REMAKE-VERSE LEON: OG Leon lost his virginity to that girlfriend at age 16; Remake Leon didn't. the Remake version of his girlfriend was too prudish to go all the way, but third base was a familiar friend.) this was to the great relief of the girlfriend's dad, who fucking hated Leon's guts and frequently told him that he would never marry his daughter (and once chased him out of the house with a shotgun, but that's a different story).

● played lacrosse in high school. didn't love it, mostly did it to put on college applications. actually wanted to play football, but his mom was adamant about not allowing him to (AND SHE WAS SUPER RIGHT HOLY SHIT DON'T LET YOUR KIDS PLAY AMERICAN FOOTBALL).

● dabbled in some arts stuff here and there in high school and college, but never in a serious way and never for any great length of time. he was more of a math nerd than anything else. but he spent like, half of a school year involved with the lit mag and, despite being a not terrible poet and short story author due to having an inherently romantic nature, dropped it pretty fast out of disinterest. tried being involved with the school paper, dropped that within a year due to disinterest. thought about picking up the guitar because some of his friends were musicians, but never committed to it. the only thing that ever stuck was an interest in film; he spent a decent amount of time in the A/V club and really enjoyed the editing process. probably would've majored in it in college if not for his far greater interest in criminal justice, so he just kept doing it on the side for fun. took some electives for it in college, at the very least, and worked on some student films. mostly horror films, which is ironic to him in hindsight.

● did not go into criminal justice because of his dad; it's just a coincidence that he ended up being interested in the same field that his dad worked. Leon has always had a problem with bullies and was that guy in high school who inserted himself into situations that didn't involve him, just to stand up for someone else. got in only a handful of fist fights as a result of this, and the extent of the scolding from his dad was "knock it off. quit screwin around. you screw around too much." in the most non-committal, "don't actually stop though" tone possible, followed by taking him to get burgers. his mom lost her mind any time he got sent home from school for fighting, though -- and the one time he actually ended up suspended was Literal Hell for that full week. but, either way -- for him, growing up with a very positive opinion of law enforcement to begin with, criminal justice seemed like a natural fit.

● beyond the few times he got in trouble for fighting (in fights he never started and always won), the worst trouble he ever got into was that time his mom found out that he and his friends snuck beer into a Green Day concert in 1994. that was also the first time she learned that her 17-year-old son was already drinking. he got grounded until graduation.

● overall was just a pretty good kid, though. constantly on honor roll. graduated college with a 3.7 GPA.

● mostly behaved in college, too, but he definitely went out and partied when he didn't have anything school-related to worry about. OG Leon partied way more frequently and way harder than Remake Leon did, though. OG Leon dragged his dick all over campus. Remake Leon had maybe a handful of drunken hookups (that still never actually got him laid) and spent most parties being that guy who was taking care of his much drunker friends. catch Remake Leon standing over one of his friends who has their face planted in the sand at a beach party like "hey man. you good? we can't leave yet. I gotta finish this beer." Remake Leon also made an excellent wingman.

● after getting hired at the RPD but before actually able to move out there (in late August, roughly), he did go out to Raccoon City to try to land an apartment so that he'd be ready once he actually did move. he filmed most of that week-long trip in a sort of self-documentary style and edited it all together with the intention of giving it to his parents before he left, in case they started to miss him -- so that they could see where he was and who he'd likely be hanging around with and all that stuff, because he is a Good Boy. he ultimately never finished the very last part of it because of the phone call he got to stay away from the city a week prior to his move, and he soon forgot he'd ever made something like that at all. his mom found it a few months later while cleaning up his room, which she did frequently as a grief response "so that it'll be ready for him when he comes home."

● to date, Leon's family and friends from back home think he died in Raccoon City. the CIA kept a tight leash on where he went and who he spoke to for the first four years of his captivity -- he basically didn't get freedom to live his own life until after Operation Javier. by the time he had the ability to call or visit home, he felt like it was too late -- that it'd be crueler to show up out of the blue after being "dead" for so long -- especially considering that he couldn't stay in their lives. he'd basically just be showing up to say "hey not dead" and then have to disappear again. so he just sort of... let it go. though, of all of the terrible things he's done in the time since then, this is the one thing that weighs heaviest on his conscience -- the one thing that he feels guiltiest about most often. but he continues to stay away, because he has nothing kind to say about the life he's lived or the man he's become. even if he were to go home now, he's convinced that his parents would not recognize their son.

● he doesn't know this, but there is an upright grave marker for him in a cemetery in his hometown dated 1977-1998. buried there is an empty casket with only a framed photo of him. his parents still lay flowers there twice a year: once on his birthday and once on the anniversary of Raccoon City's destruction.

#resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #leon kennedy #typing up some of this was kind of embarrassing and idk why #but thank u for the ask anon #my new D drive won't be coming in until wednesday so #i have nothing but time to answer long asks like this after work #pls keep sending them

41 notes · View notes

agonycrossbow · 2 months

Text

General Leon backstory headcanons

this feels so... self-indulgent and cringey now in modern-day fandom, after having dedicated so much time to arguing what is or isn't canon and having to explain multiple times, at great lengths, that the mafia backstory is not canon and why it's not. my brain is just like "shut up and just be glad that people are starting to listen to you at all."

but

● grew up in a suburb around the Hartford, CT area

● only child

● very religious/uptight Catholic mom, dad was basically Mike Cosgrove from Freakazoid

● mom was a middle school geography teacher (and CCD teacher). dad was a cop (he was bASICALLY COSGROVE)

● overall was just a pretty good kid, though. constantly on honor roll. graduated college with a 3.7 GPA.

#resident evil headcanons #leon headcanons

13 notes · View notes

ronon-dex · 4 months

Text

really not sure how I feel about the ending to travelers, or the show as a whole. it has such a fascinating concept and builds an incredibly rich world off of that, but there are so many pitfalls to how it's constructed. I've never seen such a rollercoaster of quality that's SO rapid. i'm talking 10 to 1 in the space of a minute and back again, over three entire seasons. insane. LONG POST INCOMING

good stuff:

the direction is amazing. visually, the show is beautiful, and sets up shots that are consistently creative and designed to depict the emotion the scene is supposed to evoke, which I've never seen done so artistically. we'll see half of marcy's face when she's lying. we'll see kathryn filtered through soft light when maclaren looks at her. blood and sunlight is shown in stark contrast. action scenes have moments of intense stillness in the middle, which make the violence so much more shocking. philip's addictive eye-drop medication is always shown dripping down his face like tears. standout eps for stuff like this are '17 Minutes', and 'Protocol 3'.

fairly anti-copaganda for the most part. it's rare to see.

the acting is wonderful. jared abrahamson (trevor), reilly dolman (philip) and jennifer spence (grace) especially blew me away. trevor's dual energy of sprightly teenager and wise old man had to be very difficult to get right, but it was done perfectly. when he stares down his host's abuser in 'Update' his eyes were nearly black; you could imagine a 400 year old man and the rage he must have accumulated through centuries of hardened existence. philip was a character who wasn't allowed to live up to his potential, and I will be repeating this, but the scenes he had were devoured. he had an addiction to multiple substances, he was mostly ignored by his team despite being the most crucial member, and he had not a single friend outside of his fellow travelers. the agony of all of this was portrayed to perfection. grace fulfilled a role that is normally given to a paunchy white guy, an annoying genius who gets away with inappropriate behaviour because they're clever. [the rodney mckay effect, one of many stargate echoes in this show, thank you brad wright.] she was absolutely hilarious and brought light to a very grim show at times.

the traveler missions were excellent. the pacing in these scenes was great, the plots were generally airtight, and the awareness of the audience's intelligence was thrilling to witness. i figured out mysteries exactly when I was supposed to, a few minutes before the fallout - so you see how the dominoes will fall, and you see how nobody could have caught them. SO on theme for this show. the one moment that did catch me off guard was maclaren's birthday party in s1. oh my god I was so mad at the gotcha jumpscare, it annoyed the hell out of me lmao

bad stuff:

my main gripe. this show is called travelers. this show spends only about 50% of its runtime with solely travelers. the rest of the time is spent with david (marcy's boyfriend who doesn't know she is from the future and possessing the real marcy's body), kathryn (who also doesn't know her husband, maclaren, is not her husband) and jeff (an abusive alcoholic who consistently tries to beat up his ex girlfriend, who is also now a traveler.) these people completely take over the show. they have multi-season arcs and entire episodes revolving around their problems with marcy/maclaren/carly, often domestic. attempts to give philip and trevor stories outside traveler missions are abandoned sometime around s2. when these civilian characters were abducted together in s2 I literally started calling them the Avengers of Being Annoying. I've said it before but imagine how awful the show leverage would've been if 20 minutes out of every episode sophie, nate and eliot left to talk to their individual spouses about their relationship problems.

there wasn't even a serious confrontation about the consent issues surrounding the takeover of someone's life - especially assuming a sexual or emotional relationship with that person's loved ones. like that should have been a huge ethical dilemma removed from simply possessing a previously dying body. like why are you now fucking your host's wife like it's ok??? you're not him and she doesn't know you????

it was grim. it was also very clear that david was a favourite, some writer had a crush on marcy's actress, and some other writer was apologising to his wife through the maclaren/kathryn storyline. or maybe I'm just a hater. idk

this show had an amazingly compelling narrative, but it sacrificed a great deal when it comes to character stories. these characters were established very well, and built up over season 1 to have great depth and rich histories... and then we never explored most of it. we don't know the original genders of philip, maclaren or marcy. we don't know about the families of philip or maclaren. we don't know if the main 5 knew each other well or just trained before coming to the past. the future is almost a complete mystery and that was what made it cool in season 1; by the finale? fucking annoying.

these characters' most emotional moments and deepest relationships happened with the 21st century people they emotionally abducted. idk why. maclaren had no reason to stay with his host's wife. trevor could have freed himself from high school sooner. carly (with philip's help) could have gotten rid of jeff very quickly. I don't know why they insisted on this aspect of the show when the main cast were so underdeveloped and remained so for 3 seasons. this, more than anything, made the finale seem very hollow. the main 5 were coworkers, and apart from philip, and occasionally trevor, marcy and carly, they weren't that invested in each other's wellbeing outside of their efficiency as agents. this was not the found family I signed up for.

basically:

7/10 show for me. very visually gorgeous, as mentioned, and besides the kathryn and david of it all, very tightly written. thanks for saving the world, I suppose. I'm going to go look at the sky.

#travelers netflix #netflix travelers #philip pearson #trevor holden #grant maclaren #marcy warton #carly shannon #traveler 3468 if I ever see you it's on sight. you should have stayed with carly. it's insane that you didn't #philip was originally a 50 year old lesbian. to me. marcy was a 37 year old bi man.#maclaren was originally a straight guy but he was also 25. this explains a lot when you think about it. THINK about it #the fact that they never explored the mess that would come from changing genders or having a sexuality that does not align with your host's #utterly tedious. white man writer's syndrome. they can't imagine the world not catering to them.#the way philip talks about his host 'this young man'............. like...........#i know the number sequence makes it so marcy's the youngest but i need it to be maclaren. he is very much a little shit #imagine exploring the differences between yours and your host's bodies.......... hall could've been an 18 year old girl.#boyd could've been a 45 year old man with a wife and kids. WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING COOL WITH THAT.#imagine marcy and david's relationship but marcy tells him she's a gay guy from the future. a conversation for the ages. and we missed that #going to travel to the past and tell brad wright to do this or there will be a plague outbreak in 2020. back in a sec #(meant to say this show REEKED of stargate universe. even the close up shots like I WAS THERE. I WAS IN THE TRENCHES)

9 notes · View notes

eleonkraken · 1 year

Text

Some day (read: today) we will have to talk about how people are right to hate Hell Bent with their whole hearts because it took the culmination of 10 years of development and build-up and turned the focus of it away from the protagonist and to the relationship between the protagonist and one of his many temporary companions.

At the end of series 8, we see that the Doctor is devastated by the fact that Missy lied about where Gallifrey is. He's spent years being tortured by what he did to Gallifrey, and a much shorter time having to come to terms with the fact that his planet is still out there but he has no way to find it again. Even if he hates many of his fellow time lords he still desparately wants to be able to go home - we've seen that be established time and time again in New Who. So when he does finally get to go home, we all expected that to... matter? But it doesn't matter at all. The only thing the Doctor is shown to care about in all of Hell Bent is resurrecting Clara / keeping Clara alive. So where is the resolution to this 10 year build-up? When do we get to see what Gallifrey means to him now that he's finally there again after hundreds, thousands of years? What was the point of it? Of course we were all expecting to see it. We all wanted to see it. The return of Gallifrey must have been one of the most anticipated story beats in the 55 year history of the show. But all of that falls entirely by the wayside in Hell Bent, and people were, rightfully, pissed. I was fucking pissed. Jesus Christ.

But then again, we also have to talk about how fucking fantastic Hell Bent is as an episode, and how the people who hate it refuse to judge it on its own merits. When you look at Hell Bent as the finale of the season and the conclusion of a three episode arc, it works beautifully.

The whole point of Face the Raven is that Clara lost track of her own humanity and mortality, and was killed by her hubris. The fact that the Doctor loves her so much and feels so beholden to his promise to keep her safe, makes him withstand an enormous amount of torture in Heaven Sent, and it makes him lose track of anything he might have cared about other than her when he gets to Gallifrey in Hell Bent. He's so single-minded that he doesn't even give a shit about Gallifrey. Gallifrey. There's nothing more effective at illustrating the destructiveness of their companionship than that. It also wouldn't make sense for anything else to happen following on from Heaven Sent. As ridiculous as I find it when Moffat comes up with these exorbitant time scales for his stories, if you're gonna make a point about the Doctor being unshakable for four billion years or whatever, you better make damn sure he doesn't just go back on it the very next episode. I know people who think Heaven Sent is one of the best episodes in the show and Hell Bent is one of the worst, and I don't think they understand that these episodes fundamentally need each other, and make each other better. Hell Bent is not as artistically impressive as Heaven Sent, but it's otherwise just as good of an episode.

You can recognize both of these things at once. Hell Bent is infuriating because it essentially ruined one of the most anticipated moments in the show's history. And it's also a great episode.

#doctor who #hell bent #heaven sent #twelve #steven moffat #twelveclara

22 notes · View notes

mugiwara-communications · 2 years

Text

OP Characters as "Things in my Fridge"

To my mother, who doesn't read any of my work, I'm sorry I spent three hours with the fridge door open. I swear I was cleaning it out, but also just eating handfuls of cheese when you weren't looking.

Monkey D. "Strawhat" Luffy: White people leftovers from dinner, porkchops with fried potatoes :)

"Pirate Hunter" Roronoa Zoro: Horrible roughly chopped green onions in a baggy shoved under a bag of cherry tomatoes. I don't remember cutting any onions recently, and I hate tomatoes.

"Cat Burglar" Nami: Cutie mandarines... cuz she's a cutie. She'd probably kill me because it's not a tangerine, but they aren't in season yet.

"God" Usopp: A five-pound bag of shredded colby jack cheese that I eat handfuls at a time.

"Black Leg" Sanji: My man is the whole fridge in this case, y'all, he's the anything and everything.

"Cotton Candy Lover" Tony Tony Chopper: 1/3 full can of 'Cotton Candy' flavored Bang. And yes that is actually in my fridge at this moment and not just picked out because they're both cotton candy.

"Devil Child" Nico Robin: Not in the fridge, but the hideous and beautiful drawing my niece did of me stuck to the door. It's my prized possession and I know Robin would keep all of Luffy's drawings.

"Iron Man" Franky: A single open can of faygo twist, and no it wasn't flat.

"Soul King" Brook: A pitcher of Sweet Tea! Freshly made!

"Knight of the Sea" Jinbe: The chuck of salmon I spent $25 on and get to dice up for my kitty later.

“Oni” Yamato: Chinese takeout that I don't remember buying, but will be eating later hell yeah.

"Surgeon of Death" Trafalgar Law: A near empty bottle of cold brew coffee. SToK brand because I'm not rich enough to buy starbucks.

"Captain" Eustass Kid: A random dirty/used knife, (not bloody.)

"Massacre Soldier" Killer: The birthday cake I found with the knife. And no, it hasn't been anyone's birthday recently, but that cake does say 'Happy Birthday' in blue icing.

"Red Flag" X Drake: A three-pound industrial container of melted chocolate I could use for ice cream, milkshakes, chocy milk, licking off his big sexy chest, and so much more.

"Big Eater" Jewelry Bonney: Frozen Totino's pizza rolls that my sister put in the wrong area again. Combination, but I don't care for the sausage.

"The Magician" Basil Hawkins: Bottle of ranch, nothing else. Not even spiced, magical ranch. Just plain, normal, 'good for salads and pizzas' ranch.

"Whitebeard" Edward Newgate: Okay, not 'in' my fridge, but I keep boxes of cereal on top and recently bought an off-brand called 'Bye-Os' indeed of 'Cheerios' and that is the perfect dad joke.

Marco "The Phoenix": A suspiciously perfect bag of grapes. Like delicious, juicy, tender, firm... grapes, yes, the grapes. Good grapes.

Portgas D. "Fire Fist" Ace: The butter I've also yelled at my sister not to put in the fridge so many times. It's the toast butter! It's got, like, crumbs in it, so it can't be used for much else!

Gol D. "Gold" Roger: You know those plastic, reusable ice cubes? I have 8 million of them little bitches, they leak like hell, and I know that he'd, proudly, be one of them.

Silvers "Dark King" Rayleigh: The cheap-ass bottle of 10% wine I sippy-sip when I'm saddy-sad. He could be something of higher quality if I could afford it.

"Red Hair" Shanks: Near empty bottle of ketchup I have to shake and beat on the counter to use. Most likely separated and gross, but give it a few shakes and it's usable again.

Buggy "The Clown": Call me white, but he's a good potato salad. AND WHEN DONE RIGHT, IT'S REAL GOOD. He's the comfort of potato, the crunch of pickle, and the miracle of miracle whip.

Dracule "Hawk Eyes” Mihawk: A bottle of apple juice that looks and smells like it's been fermenting for twenty years.

“Sir” Crocodile: Dill relish looking ass that is mostly juice instead of the pickles. However, usable in many dishes.

Boa “Pirate Empress” Hancock: My niece is just learning why some foods have to go in the fridge and will stick things in there when no one is looking to help, so Boa is the packet of double stuff oreos I have been looking for all day.

Donquixote Doflamingo “Joker”: Gross bitch can be my father's sour kraut for all I care, I don't eat it and I ain't touching this man with a ten-foot pole.

Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinate: Chocolate-covered strawberries in a bag that has been sitting next to a bag of raspberries, which now I can't eat either of them because I'm allergic.

"Revolutionary Chief of Staff" Sabo: Thirteen different miniature hot sauce bottles that came in a large kit, all different levels of spice and flavor... Go, white boy, go.

"Pirate Princess" Nefertari Vivi: Pretty spring fruit cocktail, with watermelon, cucumber, and cherries. I bought that bitch at public!

Bartolomeo "The Cannibal": A half-eaten watermelon that is mostly just the rind left.

"Ghost Princess" Perona: A brand new bottle of apple juice I just opened and won't let ferment!

57 notes · View notes

reputationdamiano · 2 years

Note

hi!

could i request a damiano imagine where the reader is insecure/ has an ed? in need of smt sad 2 read

smaller than this

pairing: damiano david x reader

warning(s): tw ed, body dysmorphia, insecurities, self hate, one or two curse words

word count: 1081

a/n: i have struggled with that type of things too, i mean i was never diagnosed but i definitely have body dysmorphia. i think now it’s better with eating but the self-hate hits hard often 🙁 sorry for writing this 10 months after u send that request! but here it is!

i also want to thank lovely @bidet-and-legolas for proofreading, ily 🫶

i wish i was smaller than this

you were standing in front of the mirror, staring at your body with disapproval. you saw all of your flaws clearly. thighs bigger than the rest of your body, their upper part covered in stretch marks. one look at them and you didn’t want to eat for a week.

i can’t go out dressed like this. no way.

you headed back to your room, removed your shorts and threw them on your bed. then you took out a pair of material trousers.

having been on the verge of tears for so long, you finally broke down. what was wrong with you? despite all the restricting you did for the past ten days, it seemed that you haven’t lost even a pound of fat from your legs.

you had the urge to measure every part of your body and compare the results to those of supermodels. you would sell your soul to be skinny. but there you were, with a bmi of 19.5, which was a healthy one from the medical point of view but to you, your lower body was awfully fat. you sniffled. how was that even possible?

get yourself together and be more consistent. eat less, workout everyday. you won’t reach your goal if you give up now.

these sick ideas have been in your head for a few years, waiting for the right moment to come out. like now, when it was summer and you stayed in rome with your boyfriend damiano before his band leaves to continue their summer tour.

it was easier at the beginning of your relationship. you spent your time getting to know your boyfriend instead of worrying about the number of calories in your dinner. later, during colder times of the year, you were preoccupied with your job projects, plus the temperature outside wasn’t encouraging you to show your legs to the world.

going back to your so-called ‘diet’, which in reality was strongly restricting your intake, made you feel like you had control over something in your life. you patted yourself on the back every time you talked yourself out of eating. damiano had been too busy to notice. in fact, he didn’t know about your eating disorder in the first place. you were in treatment before you even met him so he couldn’t have suspected that you were relapsing.

you decided to get up to change into different clothes and redo your makeup that was destroyed by all that weeping. just as you finished getting ready, damiano came in. you took a deep breath.

i must keep him out of this.

“hi, y/n” he said and hugged you. “are you ready to go?”

“hi dami. yes, let’s leave” you forced a smile onto your face. he took your hand and you got into his car. that day damiano planned to take you out on a date to make up for how little time he had spent with you lately.

your favorite album was playing but all you felt was stress because this surprise date may include eating.

damiano asked you about your day and shared new info about the tour but your mind had been on one thing: how to eat as little as possible without being suspicious.

you noticed that you were slowly driving out of the city. at some point your boyfriend turned left into an old country road.

where the hell are we going? you thought.

you didn’t ask, however, because you already reached your destination: a completely empty beach by the river. the sky was pink without a single cloud on it and the view was breathtakingly beautiful.

damiano stopped the car

“and what do you think?” he asked, grinning.

“it’s such a beautiful place, wow” you replied, in awe of your surroundings.

“far from the city, just for us” your boyfriend added while taking out a blanket and a basket full of food out of the trunk.

a basket full of food?

oh no, not this

you started to panic. damiano quickly unfolded the blanket and made a comfy place for you to sit.

you didn’t see anything healthy and low in calories to eat, except for a few fruits. grabbing one, you hoped that damiano wouldn’t notice how little you would eat tonight.

“y/n, please have a piece of brownie, it’s your favorite” he said, looking at you softly.

“i’m not hungry, thanks dami” you said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “i ate at home”

i’m so screwed up but he can’t know about this

“but there was nothing much in the fridge” your boyfriend pointed out. he was already worried and suspecting something.

fuck. i’m doomed

“y/n, what’s going on?” damiano enquired.

“nothing, why?” you said but your voice was shaking. you weren’t such a good manipulator as you thought.

you were at your wits‘ end.

“y/n, you know you can tell me everything” damiano didn’t give up on the conversation.

you felt like you had a lump in your throat. in that moment, you knew you had to tell him.

your boyfriend was looking at you, waiting for your answer.

“um.. i…” you couldn’t finish the sentence because the tears started falling down your face.

damiano took you in his arms. his embrace was your ultimate comfort.

he’s the love of my life, he deserves to know

“damiano, there’s something you should know about me… i have problems with eating” you opened up and told him the whole story, from your first struggles in high school and treatment to your most recent relapse.

“amore, you’ve been through a lot. i admire your strength. please remember you’re the most divine and gorgeous person in my eyes. i wouldn’t change a single thing about you, you’re perfect” damiano whispered. you were cradled in his arms like they were your safest shelter.

“nevertheless, you need to seek professional help. i’ll arrange everything for you, i promise. we’ll get through this together” he stopped speaking to kiss you slowly and softly. all of your negative thoughts disappeared during that wonderful moment.

“and remember, you deserve to eat no matter what, okay? i’m going to check up on you everyday, beautiful. i adore every piece of you and this will never change”

“dami, you mean everything to me. i’m so sorry for all that has happened” you said

“there’s no need to apologize y/n. you complete me. i’ll never let you go”

taglist: @ethanesimp @zuzamy @mywritingonlyfans @kirstansworld @gretavanfleetlove @otaculo @bieberhoodforever @kyliesalvatore @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @bidet-and-legolas @hopelessromantic727 @ilwiwbysmv @lovelymaneskindays @grzybowysyn @butkutee

masterlist

you can add yourself to my taglist here

reblogs and comments appreciated 🤍

102 notes · View notes

trikeyaredilfs · 2 years

Text

Michael Realizing Trevor is Autistic:

“He just does this-!” Michael mimicked the hand movements of Trevor before returning his elbows to the countertop.

“I don’t know, Mandy, I think he finally fried his brain.”

Amanda swirled the wine around in her glass a few times, seemingly lost in thought.

“And you said he was asking you to sit on him?” She asks returning her gaze to him.

“Maybe he’s got a fetish for it, I mean, it’s Trevor.” He wraps his hand around his whiskey glass, quickly downing some of it before setting it back down. He rubs the bridge of his nose, groaning.

“Have you ever considered the man might be autistic?” Amanda asks, taking another sip of wine. “Autistic?” Michael parrots, furrowing his brow. “Like that thing kids get? He doesn’t exactly fit that criteria, Mandy.”

Amanda considers downing the rest of the wine in the bottle, dumbfounded yet absolutely unsurprised by his response. “No, jackass.” She almost laughs. “I mean, he doesn’t understand social cues, his moral compass is nearly nonexistent, he definitely does not understand societal norms, he wears the same clothes…for however long that is, he doesn’t understand gender expectations, he is obsessed with that stupid superhero figure-“ with each observation she holds up a finger. “And above all of that, he was so obsessed with you, he literally spent 10 years, knowing you were supposedly dead trying to find you. He cannot keep focus on a single thing and yet the one thing he can, and somehow did better than the actual FIB was finding you.”

Amanda stares at him blankly, this time popping the cork on her wine bottle and picking it up before taking a long swig. She swallows noisily, setting the bottle back down before walking out into the other room. Bringing a large book back with her. “My kid has autism; the guide for parents” was plastered in obnoxiously colorful letters on the front.

“Here. Take this and read it, Michael.” Amanda said holding it toward him.

“This whole book?” He whines slightly.

“Could you actually try with Trevor? The one person who genuinely loves you more than they do themselves and you’re whining over a book. The least you could do is help him.” Amanda retorts.

Michael clenches his jaw but exhales. “Alright, Amanda. Thank you.” He looks at the book again. “Wait, why do we have this?”

“There was a shrink back in North Yankton that thought Jimmy had it. Never really seemed to respond to anything abnormally, so I just decided to let him be Jimmy.”

“Thanks, Mandy, y’know,I think I like this arrangement. Just talking.” He says,half smiling. Taking another drink of his whiskey.

“Just wait until we can manage it sober.” She snorts.

“I’ll drink to that.” Michael says, raising his glass.

Michael glances to the clock, 2 am.

He had been reading this book for nearly 3 hours now, making notes off to the side. He yawns, pulling off his bifocals, something that never left the office because he refused to reveal further evidence of his age.

He rubs his eyes with his palms, before standing up to stretch his stiff legs. From the corner of the room, Trevor emerges. “Whatcha been readin’ there, Mikey?”

Michael nearly jumps out of his skin. “Jesus! You’re going to give me a fuckin’ heart attack, T. How the fuck did you even get in here?”

“Window was open, I climbed in. You’re avoiding the question though, what were you reading?” Trevor approaches the desk. Michael moves in front of him. “It’s just a…history textbook. Jimmy was curious about a war and-“

“Jimmy has an IFruit. He could just look it up on eyefind. I don’t really appreciate the shadiness, Mikey. I thought we were over secrets?” Trevor pushes past him and flips the book’s cover closed a moment, reading it.

“Who the hell is autistic?”

Michael stays quiet, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of a good way to phrase what is in his mind.

Trevor picks up the notebook beside the book, reading through Michael’s neat handwriting. Specifically one set of lines caught his eye.

Stimming, a method of self stimulation: Trevor’s stims: rocking, nail-biting and hand-flapping

Trevor stares at the paper, his eyebrows furrowed but his expression ultimately blank. He flipped through a few pages.

“Listen, T… I wanted to sit and talk-“ Michael starts, Trevor simply puts his finger up, still reading the pages intensely.

After a few moments he sets the notebook down, looking at Michael. Michael couldn’t tell what was going through Trevor’s head, he seemed way too calm at the moment. “Talk.” Trevor hisses.

“I-“ Michael starts, his mouth feeling suddenly incredibly dry. “I just wanted to understand you better, Trevor. I noticed all of these things that you do and I didn’t understand why they were happening. Then Amanda gave me this book, and I’m trying to read it because maybe it is what’s happening, but I didn’t want to just assume.” He explains, finally looking away from Trevor. “I’m sorry, T, really.”

Trevor’s once deadpan face breaks with a slight grin. “Mikey, that’s sweet.” Trevor laughs. “But I know I’m autistic. I could’ve told you that. I figured that out when I was going to that shrink after you died.”

“…and you didn’t tell me?” Michael looked more hurt than confused.

“You never asked, Mikey. Plus it just kind of slipped my mind.” Shrugged Trevor. “But, I do like that you tried to understand my fucked up mind, sugartits, it’s actually pretty hot.”

“And there goes the severity of this conversation.” Michael chuckles, pushing past Trevor and getting into bed.

“Are you gonna finally lay on me now?”

“Not a chance.”

#trevor philips #michael de santa #amanda de santa #it’s not great but hc #autistic trev

32 notes · View notes

nebsstories · 1 year

Text

The Birthday Bash

—

Authors note:

I’ve conceptualized this scenario I think about a year ago, but hadn’t found the time or inspiration to write it down until now.

This story was inspired off of @cupcakeshakesnake’s Harbor Town AU, and the contents of this story is loosely based off another story I’ve read, please DM me for more details.

—

Be me, I’m just right out of college and I have no idea what to do with my life; degree is utterly useless so I look at local businesses, wanted to find somewhere I can stay until I can get a better job. I happened to live 10 minutes away from the local rat casino known as, “Chuck-E-Cheese”. It’s better than nothing, I guess. Go in, do interview, really basic stuff; guy interviewing me asks, “When can you start?”

On that day I sold my soul to the Chuck-E-Cheese company. That day began one of the worst experiences of my life.

I started that following Monday, making $10 on the hour, so it’s okay, I guess. I spent most of my week up until Friday getting acquainted with my fellow coworkers. Free food’s also a plus, pizza’s alright but I’ll take it. I clock in that fateful Saturday morning, my manager greets me at the door, she tells me that Saturday’s are usually when it’s at its peak so we’ll be swamped today. Oh and, there’s a big birthday scheduled tonight, and all I can hear from the poor guy wearing the costume is a low, yet audible, “Fuck my life.”

I cannot even begin to imagine how awful it’d be to be surrounded by fifty or so grease coated crotch goblins all at once, all the while dying of heatstroke in a furry costume. At least the building was air conditioned, because I heard that the suit doesn’t have ventilation, meaning it’s hot as the devil’s asshole at times. I was tasked with setting up the party area, the decorations were already provided to us and the theme was apparent from the skull and crossbones.

Around 4 in the afternoon, the rush starts to die down and we get a momentary feeling of euphoric silence, relief washed over us, though we were fools to think it’d last forever. We watched as tired parents dragged out their sugar high children, as the kingdom they’d lorded over was lost to them. In the wake of their foul dominion, the arcade games became sticky and greasy to the touch, they’d stained the carpets with spilled sodas and slices of mediocre pizza, in that moment I foolishly thought, “This can’t get any worse than the hell on earth I’d just witnessed.”

4:30pm on the dot, a man steps in. He looks like the sort of boho rockstar you’d see thrown up from the peak of 80’s rock and roll, with as much swagger in his step and a cool demeanor as he greeted the girl that gives all the kids the ink stamps (which are “invisible” until shown under a blacklight).

“‘Ello, I’ve a birthday reservation for Jackie, party of 40.” He follows up.

My heart stopped, my blood ran cold as the number echoed in my mind. He did not just say 40, I thought he was bluffing so I poked my head out to get a glance. Standing behind him was an army. An army of fun sized pirates. This man brought in an entire grade level to this Chuck-E-Cheese and we were at the brunt of it all.

Before I could dip my head into my manager’s office to fake sick, the kids flood the place. Cry havoc! And let slip the dogs of war, as instantaneously, children storm the restaurant; they take to the playhouse, the arcade, the party area. The place is nearly full and bursting at the seams with them, and as we pushed on, our manager cowardly hid within the confines of the office. Meanwhile, the rest of us are panicking, chefs are stressing - their nerves pulsating and brows glistening with sweat from the amount of pizza they have to keep pumping out. It’s a madhouse, it’s anarchy!

Rockstar here isn’t doing jack shit, he’s just leaning against the wall playing guitar and waiting for it to be over. Another adult - a biker looking man, just got jumped by 20 or so children. Proudly, one boy, with a wide brimmed hat adorned by a single plumed feather and a toy monkey around his torso, holds up the poor man’s wallet. “Gents! Our hope is restored!” The other members of his crew cheer loudly, leaving the man they’d just mugged on the floor to abuse his poor aching debit card in exchange for tokens.

Outside the restaurant, I spotted Mayor Swann with his daughter in tow and a birthday present in her hand, then him taking one look at the chaos and deciding in that moment to turn around and leave. No doubt lying to his child that the restaurant had closed. Forever. No wait, take me with you, Mr. Mayor!

My train of thought was interrupted when one of the children, a boy with his hair pulled back into a ponytail asks me, “Excuse me sir, when is the show?”

Another chimes in, this one must be the birthday boy, Jack. I’d never seen a kid look this smug my entire life, “Oi, we’ve invoked the right of Parlay, we demand to see Charles Entertainment Cheese.”

I stuttered for a brief moment to regain my composure. What have I just gotten myself into? “It’s coming soon, kiddos!” Luckily, that was enough to suffice, as they’d rush back to the arcade.

Eventually the animatronic show from hell begins, the band begins playing kids songs. I don’t know what these kids were expecting, but it’s clear that the works of Scott Cawthon had done a number on their minds, as one of the children in attendance - probably the one with the slicked back ponytail, begins freaking out. One of my coworkers has to swoop in to make the kid happy. Others that were paying attention kept asking, “Where’s Freddy Fazbear?” The kids are now chanting, “Freddy! Freddy! Freddy!” I’m surprised with the pirate theme they’re not clamoring for Foxy. One chubby kid, miraculously gets up to the Chuck E animatronic, begins shaking him whilst interrogating him on the whereabouts of Freddy and his gang. He’s shaken the robot enough times where it’s god damn head FALLS OFF. Screaming ensues. I’m amazed this kid didn’t put Chuck E”s head on a pike a la Lord of the Flies, though even then I’m sure half of them will need therapy after seeing their fellow pirate brethren decapitate their beloved, cheese eating deity.

While most of the party was distracted, two of them have managed to SNEAK INTO THE KITCHEN and are stealing toppings off the pizzas. Not off the prep stations, but straight off the pizzas, I’m pretty sure half of them don’t even wash their hands. We had to remake them because we didn’t want the health department on our asses.

One of them managed to steal a whole pizza for himself and scarf it down near the ballpit. I think it was one with the wide-brimmed hat.

The birthday boy was easily the worst of the bunch; within two hours, he’d managed to hop behind the prize counter while the guy working there escaped for a bathroom break, took every miniature tote bag off the rack and used them to stuff as much prizes as he could carry. His little arms made him look like a coat rack as he waddled out from behind the corner with his treasure.

And I’ll bet you’re wondering, where was I in the chaos? Being tormented by a duo, the kid who decapitated Chuck E and another who wore an eyepatch, asking me question after question. You know, things a kid would ask like, “Whatcha doing?” Or, “What’s the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?” Actually, the one with the eyepatch kept throwing those curve balls and it made me wonder what this kid was doing in his spare time.

Then the dinner bell rang, or rather, the rockstar parent called, “Pizza’s ready!” Finally, a moment of calm as slices are distributed amongst the group. But all hell breaks loose when the sodas are passed around. Oh god no, god please no, literally give them anything but soda. It’s too late now, that bastard knew what he was doing. It was like watching the fireworks at a Fourth of July celebration, as these kids practically exploded with sugar-induced adrenaline pumping through their little bodies.

Then the final blow: the cake. Ah yes, what a cake, I remember it fondly. No expense was spared for this occasion, when most parents provided a sheet cake from their local grocery store, rockstar here provided an elaborate cake worthy of 40 or so screaming children. A treasure chest; with chocolate gold coins, the strings of pearls made from modeling chocolate and candied necklaces, precious gems made from rock candy for that nice pop of color, and a delicate map made from marzipan that read, “Happy Birthday Captain Sparrow!”

It was carried in by a man who looked to be about my age, his hair pulled back into a ponytail like that kid from earlier - though I assure you, his was messier than in comparison to the kid, and he’d be wearing a dark blue shirt. Ah, now I recognize him; James Norrington, he was an elementary school teacher but he also worked the Tortuga Arcade during Winter Break. Really nice guy. A moment of silence fell once the door opened, all the children nearly gave themselves whiplash to stare at the newcomer.

“Oh look,” they’d think, “another adult we’ve yet to wear out.”

I’m just mentally screaming at this man, “Run! Run while you still can!!”

It was in vain, as the screech of, “Cake!” Coming from the birthday boy signaled the others to descend upon him. The man struggled to keep the cake out of their grasps, holding it high up and calling, “Mr. Teague, would you please provide me with some assistance? And where is Mr. Teach?”

Mugged and still laying facedown on the floor. That cannot look comfortable, but I suppose playing dead was miles better than the alternative, which was staying awake for this mess.

Finally, rockstar does something, casually getting past the crowd to retrieve the cake with a simple, “Thanks.” Manager asks me to do a headcount, make sure the kids were all still here and not somehow sneaking out into the rooftop or something.

37…38…39…oh shit. Where’s the birthday boy?

I couldn’t just make my panic known, so I started poking around the restaurant for him, I’d even asked one of my coworkers to check the roof for the birthday boy. And Mr. Teague was beginning to notice. God, I didn’t want to tell him I’d somehow lost his kid. But, then I realized that, he wasn’t looking at me; he was looking straight at the play area. And as luck would have it, there in the ball pit, I see the kid’s head poking out with a smug grin. Thank god.

After cake and presents was when the real damage kicks in, chairs are now flying, one of our front windows gets smashed into a million pieces, and now requires repairs. I don’t even know HOW they can even find the strength to accomplish that, so I’m mildly impressed. The manager’s office is then stormed and papers flew everywhere and into the party area. Of course Mr. Sparrow nor Mr. Teach don’t end up paying for damages, not like we’d want their money anyway. We want compensation for the emotional damage we had to endure that evening. Norrington fled not long after the cake was delivered, not like I’d blame him.

Eventually, parents and guardians come around to come collect their kids, even Norrington shows back up to pick up one of them, the one with the ponytail apparently. At least Teague tips us generously, seems he knows the sort of chaos this kid and his posse can unleash.

It’s 11, closing time. During cleanup, we take survey of the property damage that had occurred in the wake of that birthday party; your usual stained carpet, but also now featuring turned over furniture, ruined play area, arcade games now so stuck, I’m pretty sure they’d have to call someone in to clean them, raided prize corner, damaged animatronics. It was as if a bomb had gone off in here. It was over, the siege of port Chuck-E-Cheese had leaned in favor of Captain Jack Sparrow and his band of miscreants.

I left, but never came back for my next shift. I spend Sunday and Monday job hunting, and luckily I was able to land a job with the East India Trading Company.

I’d thought I’d seen the last of Jack, and his vast pirate army. Life as an underling in EITC was as mundane yet stable as one could imagine an office job to be, money flow is steady with a 9 to 5, paid vacation time, they’ve even got dental. I’d moved out of my crappy apartment and moved somewhere I could enjoy the peace and quiet; I vowed to never have kids. Life was good.

Until one Monday, I saw Jack again, he was pestering my boss, Beckett, asking him question after question. One of his little friends is aggressively flossing in another room, Jack has now gotten ahold of one of the company computers. Somehow he unleashes a virus. All the of work I’d poured in the past few hours gone the drain and now I’m openly mocked by a video of badly played recorder music. The bass is boosting hard, my ears are bleeding.

I’m going to put in my request for a transfer tomorrow.

#harbor town au #all credit towards this AU goes to the original artist #Short fanfictions #Nebs narrations

18 notes · View notes

hexpea · 2 years

Text

Ch. 10 - Just a Graduation

While the first was obviously a flop, you ended up being able to handle most first grade curses and even one special grade on your own. You felt that out of your three years at TJH, this single month contributed more toward your education than any other class you ever took.

When you weren't fighting curses or hanging around with the two of them, and, more specifically when you managed to get alone time with Gojo, you spent your time lip locked. Geto would lock his door for the night while you remained out on the Murphy bed, watching some kind of free film the hotel offered with your body against his. You didn't get past first base, though. Gojo had offered, but you played chicken. You had no experience whatsoever and didn't want to embarrass yourself. You tried to make a mental note to work on that for next time. You had also promised to keep things between you and Gojo, to which you told Geto every little exciting thing anyways.

On your last night, you decided to regroup with Geto in order to come up with the next plan to drive you even closer, romantically, with Gojo. To get away from the man himself, you two decided to walk along the beach. Considering the time of year, it was safe to say the water felt colder than you were used to.

"I want to see if he'll do anything naturally," Geto noted as the two of you walked side by side along the shore, your body trembling from the cold because, unlike Geto, you forgot to bring a jacket. You'd spent so much time in colder Tokyo that you thought it would be much warmer back home - so much for that. "Graduating is a pretty big thing so I'm thinking he may decide to do something on his own."

"And my birthday," you mumbled through chattering teeth.

"Really?!" He laughed as he was taken aback. "Quite the timing there."

"I'll say," you agreed with a small smile and your arms wrapped tightly across your chest to keep in your warmth. Geto laughed with you for a brief moment, thinking of what to say next.

Unfortunately, since you were walking in the dark, you failed to see the driftwood in front of you that the tide had brought in. Just before you were about to speak again you managed to trip and land face first into the sand, you gave a loud scream as you plummeted. With even more perfect timing, a wave also crashed into the shore - nearly drenching you in the cool water.

"Damn it," you hissed in pain as you came up with Geto's assistance. "Ow, ow, ow," you continued sitting on the sand, upright at this point, with your leg in immense pain.

"Ooo," Geto winced when looking down at your leg. A piece of shell somehow managed to lodge itself in your muscle. It was tiny but still managed to hurt like hell. "We'll have Shoko look at that when we get back. It's small enough that we should be able to bandage it." As he spoke, he carefully pulled the piece from your leg - a good bit of blood coming with it. He then helped you fully to your feet, you babying your hurt leg. "Here," he started taking off his jacket and forced you to put it on. "Between tonight and when we went bowling... do you own any suitable coats?"

"I mean, I have a light jacket. I just left it in the room," you laughed and snuggled into the fabric. You tried your best to ignore how much it smelled like him. "But I don't have a winter coat. Never really needed one."

Geto rolled his eyes and then suddenly maneuvered to scoop you up. You gave a small squeak when he did so. "Gotta' get you back," he noted as he hiked you up against his chest, "clean that wound up before it gets infected."

"If only you were Gojo," you giggled as he began walking back toward the hotel. The darkness luckily hid your blush.

"I mean...I can call him down here," Geto seriously offered.

"No, no," you replied quickly, "this is embarrassing."

"I don't think he'd care, but alright," Geto carefully shrugged. "Looks like I get to be your Prince Charming tonight."

"Stop joking," you nudged him in his ribs with your elbow. He gave a low, satisfied chuckle and kept walking.

Unfortunately, as the trip concluded, you were unable to visit your home, but you figured you'd see your mother on graduation day anyway. Gojo and Geto also lived up to their promise and recommended you as a first grade sorcerer. You hoped that during your assignment that you could live up to that status. Though your month with them was successful, you still felt as if you had some ways to go to deserve that title.

Graduation had arrived quicker than you thought. The ceremony over even quicker than that. Not to mention you had made it to your nineteenth birthday. With only four graduates, it was a relatively quick ceremony with a few speeches and a simple handing out of the diplomas. Your classmates' parents were all seated in one section, your mother one of them, and the mentors that assisted with your final exams in another. It was all so lackluster that you hardly felt as if you'd accomplished anything. Thinking about it, the ceremony was only forty-five minutes and the very next day you'd be home again in Okinawa completing your assignment.

As the ceremony concluded, your mother happily jogged up to you.

"Hey, sweetie!" She smiled wide, stars in her eyes. "I'm so proud of you! Your father was supposed to be here, too, but...I'm sure his other family got in the way." You could sense the hostility in her voice.

"Thanks, Mom," you smiled sweetly in return and accepted her overly tight embrace. You tried to ignore her notes on your father.

You were very young when things wen sour, but you still loved him. Honestly, recalling the events - it was finances that divided them, not something personal like cheating. Though, then again, some awful things were said when you'd overhear their fights. You knew from your phone calls with him that he felt uninvited with your mother there - which you understood completely.

"So this is Mom?" Gojo chuckled from behind you, causing you to jolt from his sudden appearance.

"You must be the legendary Gojo!" Your mom continued smiling, offering a small bow in greeting. It was clear she was about to attempt some kind of schmoozing.

Gojo gave a small nod in return, "the one and only. This here's Geto Suguru." He motioned to Geto who was, of course, standing next to Gojo - the inseparable pair.

Geto took his hand out of his pocket to give a small wave, putting it right back as soon as he finished. "Nice to meet you," he added nervously. You'd never pegged him to be the shy type, but here he was - quiet as ever.

"So your placement wasn't Tokyo, but at least it's your hometown!" Gojo began the conversation. "Are you happy to have her home, Ms. L/N?"

"Lots of packing and moving to do first, but yes, it'll be great to have her home again," she gave you an endearing smile. "It's been pretty quiet without your father around."

"Y-yeah," you looked down in an attempt to clear your mind. You hated it when she brought him up, she didn't deserve that excuse. "Anyway, Mom, we should go get packing. They want us out by tonight."

"Right, right, and we've got our flight this evening, too," your mother nodded in response.

"How about we help?" Gojo suddenly offered. "The four of us could get it knocked out in no time. In fact, why don't the two of you go out for one last lunch in Tokyo for a bit and when you come back we can start packing?"

"Wow, Gojo, seriously? You'd do that?" You asked in a bit of disbelief. This had to be Geto's idea.

"Of course! It's your birthday after all, isn't it?" Gojo nudged Geto as he made direct eye contact with you through his lenses. You gave a shy nod, cheeks blushing from Gojo's attention.

"Then it's settled!" Gojo exclaimed, pointing a finger in the air. "You two go out, have fun. Geto and I will finish up what we're supposed to do here and we'll regroup, let's say, around two?"

"Those two are nice," your mother noted as the two of you sat down at a restaurant not far from the school.

"Gojo and Geto?" You chuckled as you picked at the food in front of you. "Sometimes they can be."

"So Gojo," she continued, "he's obviously pretty. Is he...someone you're interested in?"

"Pretty?" You snorted. "I guess that's one way to put it." She smiled at you knowingly. "If you're asking if I like him, the answer's yes. We've...thought about going out." That was one way to put what you'd been doing during your final project.

She reached across the table to put a gentle hand on yours with a sweet smile. "I'm so proud of you. I'm glad to know you've been able to make friends and grow as a sorcerer. And to have such a fine prospect,"

"Thanks again, Mom," you blushed and rolled your eyes. You'd rather not continue to discuss any more details involving Gojo.

"And that Geto," she sidetracked, "not so bad either," she wiggled her eyebrows before retracting her hand to grab her chopsticks.

"Mother!" You growled at her, hoping other patrons couldn't hear. You felt your face immediately get hot at the mention of his name and she chuckled at your obvious embarrassment.

After a well-deserved graduation/birthday lunch, the two of you made your way back to the campus dorms. When you arrived at your door, Gojo and Geto were nowhere to be found.

"They'll probably show up soon. It was their idea after all," you mumbled to your mother, but more-so to yourself, as you put your key in the lock.

Just as you opened your door, you were greeted with loud pops and the sound of party horns.

"Happy birthday, Y/N!" The pair shouted from the middle of your room which was littered with balloons and streamers. Gojo stood in some kind of action stance filled with enthusiasm as Geto carefully held a cake with several lit candles.

You felt a mix of emotions in that moment. You were partially embarrassed, partially irritated, but completely grateful all in one. You felt a few stray tears of joy at the corner of your eye as a smile crept upon your face. You blew out the candles, making one wish in particular.

"How nice," your mother cooed, "have anything to cut that? We can have some slices before we pack."

"Will this work?" Gojo lifted a plastic knife out of his pocket with a shit-eating grin.

After cake and as soon as everything was packed up, Gojo happily gave his goodbye - a simple peck on the cheek. Your mother had gone with him, specifically to go find Yaga and finish up some paperwork regarding your graduation. This left you and Geto alone for a few final moments, at least for the next year.

"So this is it," you flattened your lips awkwardly as the two of you stood in a nearly empty room, save for the school-provided furniture.

"Yep," Geto replied with his hands stiffly in his pockets. "We'll miss you around here."

"Yeah, I'll miss being here. But the plan is to come back," you smiled, "and when I do, that means you're back to wingman duty."

"Don't worry, I don't plan on quitting now," Geto winked, "we've made some excellent progress."

"Make sure you keep that between us. Remember, he told me not to tell you," you warned.

"Yeah, yeah," Geto waved his hand to dismiss your reminder. "Just go get some work done," he teased, "then get back here as soon as you can."

"Got it," you gave a single, stern nod.

Geto opened his arms up, to which you accepted his embrace. The silence between you two was deafening. The cold, empty room made it much sadder than it needed to be. Just a year, you reminded yourself. You took a deep breath as the hug lingered for longer than needed. His scent was just as intoxicating as Gojo's. The way his arms gently cradled your back felt heavenly. You tried to keep your mind off of that idea and tried to force yourself into a more platonic state.

"Goodbye, Sugu," you blushed, using his nickname for the first time. You could tell by his sudden, shifted facial expression that it got to him.

"Goodbye, Y/N," he smiled back despite looking a bit tense. "See you when you get back."

Once you were all packed and safely home after a quick plane ride, you texted Geto from your childhood bedroom.

"You're full of surprises," you wrote.

"What? That birthday party thing?" Geto texted back. "That was all Gojo this time."

"Really?"

"Really."

#geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #getou suguru x reader #suguru getou x y/n #suguru getou x you #suguru getou x reader #suguru getou #getou suguru #geto suguru #suguru geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

40 notes · View notes

whale-mafia · 2 years

Text

Okay I just finished watching series 10 of doctor who after putting it off for the better part of the last 5 years so I could watch Jodie's run as the doctor so here are my thoughts on the end of series 10 and start of series 11

Thing number 1: I forgot how much capaldi's speaches made me cry, every single episode I was crying like a baby, just seeing how kind he was, seeing the doctor's old age shine through for a few moments, especially in the eater of the light, when he just says how everyone just sounds like children to him, I don't know it just made me emotional, maybe because I knew he was leaving, maybe I'm just emotional in general, but the point is, I cried, a lot.

Thing number 2: Bill and Nardole! I love them! They made me laugh so much! Their no nonsense attitude with the doctor! All the "I'm not letting you die old man" moments! I'm never seeing them again! They make me so sad! Nardole spent the rest of his life on a ship doomed to be attacked by cybermen in the future. Bill became one of those cyberman and died as one. Don't get me wrong, I loved the "gay love saves it all" and "two gals running around seeing the universe pt2" ending we got, but I really wished she hadn't died, I loved her so much. The trio's hug in the Christmas special meant everything to me

Thing number 3: the regeneration! Capaldi's last words as the doctor made me cry so much. When he was laying on the ground, opened his eyes and said "I don't wanna go" I started bawling and it only got worse from there, especially with the "I'll always remember when the doctor was me", the whole section with the advice for his future self made me so emotional, and the "Doctor, I let you go" at the end, oof, chef's kiss

Thing number 4: I watched the first three episodes of Jodie's run, the one where she falls from the sky, the one where they're in that race in the desolate planet and the Rosa Parks one and oh boy do I have opinions. I'm going to start with what I didn't like and then what I did like-

Thing number 4.1: I didn't like that she build herself a new screwdriver, I don't know, I just feel like it removes her from the other doctors and the whole "new face, same software" thing. And like I understand she still has a screwdriver, it's just not the same for me. But to be fair, I know that it could be my own attachment to objects and aquired sentimental value of them over time talking, but I'm still allowed my hoarding instincts to a degree so I stand by what I said

Thing number 4.2: I didn't like that they killed grace in that first episode, I knew she would die because I had seen gifsets of the new gang and she wasn't included and she didn't act like the type of person that would just let her husband and her grandson go traveling the universe without her, so I knew something would happen, but death by gravity in the first episode she appeared didn't agree with me

Thing number 4.3: the dialogue felt too much like a script, not that there was no emotions behind the dialogue, it just didn't feel like a real dialogue people could be happening. Don't get me wrong, the acting was fantastic, it was the dialogue that felt too stilted. Another thing was pacing, but that was mostly on the second episode, thing took too long to happen and when they did, it was either everything all at once or one rushed thing followed by nothing happening until the next adrenaline packed scene.

Thing number 4.4: what the hell was that Rosa parks episode, just what?? there was an unexplained racist dude from the future who wanted to stop the american civil rights movement form happening just for the fun of it??? Like, they gave no reasoning for that at all. Also, i don't know how to articulate this better, but something about the gang being one of the people in the bus didn't sit right with me, I get it, they were preserving the timeline, but it just didn't settle.

Thing number 5: things I liked were - there are loads of people in the tardis! I love when is not just the doctor and their companion, now she has a new gang with her! Its her and three other people! The Tardis is full! At first it seemed weird, but I kinda liked the new tardis look, in an edgy sort of way. I liked the futuristic aesthetic that capaldi's and smith's had and I'll miss it forever but the rustic, definitely alien looking and overall darker tardis had me vining. Another thing I've noticed and that I'm liking so far is that the doctor is crazy, feral, unhinged! Good for her, good for her! No guns allowed but I will blow them up! Twice! In three episodes she blew people up! Fantastic!

I think thats it in my rambling so far in what I've watched, I'll add to this post if I make any other post like this

Edit: you can tell it was 2 in the morning when I wrote this by all the unfinished sentences and mixing with portuguese grammar, hopefully the 10 hours this post was left unedited didn't reach too many people

#tagging for a change so i can find it later #doctor who #thirteenth doctor #twelveth doctor #long post

7 notes · View notes