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#when will we ever see them on screen again
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It has been six excruciating days since I was plunged into the Bridgerton fandom against my will.
I was minding my own business, watching YouTube compilations of the best kisses in TV history, when I unwittingly clicked on a video about Colin and Penelope, and I was immediately down so bad for them.
Let me be clear: Bridgerton was not part of my life before I clicked on that video. I wanted nothing to do with it; I had no intention of ever watching or reading that smut. And then, without warning, it swept in and took me in the night, much like Colin Bridgerton in the back of a carriage.
To say I have been lost in the sauce these past six days would be a gross understatement. The carriage scene is literally ruining my life. I haven’t gone to sleep before 1 a.m. since Sunday, and I have been over an hour late to work every day. Why? Because I cannot stop consuming that godforsaken scene — watching gifs of it over and over, reading y’all’s hilarious takes and memes about it, watching it with the audio descriptions turned on (🥵), watching it with the music removed (🥵🥵), watching Luke and Nicola on their press tour, watching, watching, watching.
Have I started actually watching season 1 of the show? Of course. Did I check out the large-print version of the first book from the library since it was the only copy available? You bet. But I do not care about these other characters and storylines. I want it to be Colin and Penelope on the screen and the page in every sentence and every scene.
And either fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t even have to be looking at a screen to be distracted by them — my daydreaming has never been as maladaptive in my life as it has been this week. I can hardly think of one ten-minute stretch in the past six days in which some imaginary scenario has not been taking over my brain. I want to be part of their world so bad — not just Bridgerton, but Shondaland. As is the case for 90% of all of my daydreams, I want these actors to know I exist. I want them to look at me with just as much awe and love as I look at them. So I might be staring at my computer screen in my cubicle, but in my mind, I’m on a press tour of my own that intersects with theirs. (I’m never the desperate fan with no life in my dreams; my idols always see me as their equal). I might be driving my commute in my car, but in my mind, they’re congratulating me about my own novel being optioned by Netflix. I might be brushing my teeth in my bathroom, but in my mind, we’re laughing together on Graham Norton’s couch.
But Lord, here comes that freaking carriage scene once again, inserting itself into my mind (pun unavoidable). I cannot get over it. I’m so stuck there that I’ve found myself wearing shoes I don’t remember putting on, carrying coffee mugs I don’t remember putting in my bag, driving a speed limit I don’t remember agreeing to as acceptable. There is laundry that needs to be folded. Bills need to be paid. Emails need to be deleted en masse without reading. But I can’t find the door that will let me out of this damn carriage.
I had a conversation with myself two days ago about how we might be able to adapt to this new living situation. After a few temper tantrums, I finally said, “Girl, if you’re going to watch this scene 1,000 times, you have got to find a way to make it a constructive part of your life.” So I did what any rational adult would do: I started writing a scholarly paper about why it’s so powerful — not just for me but, according to the internet, for a lot of women. And I have every intention of writing an entire paper about this … if I can find the time. I’m just so busy right now with consuming this damn scene.
Was starting to write that article enough to satiate my obsession with this scene, with this show and these actors? Of course not. So this morning, I started writing a spicy scene of my own, featuring not Colin and Penelope but two other vaguely outlined characters who I’m sure I’ll give names and personalities to later. I was literally sitting in my cubicle, hunched over my planner, writing down snippets of sexiness in as small a print as possible in case someone walked up on me and looked over my shoulder without me noticing. And I’m not gonna lie: this shit’s good. I’ve never written smut before, because I’ve never had enough spice in my own life to feel like I’d be able to do it justice on paper. But that imagination of mine — she’s a freak. And my mind? My mind has moved way past the gutter. It is now in the outhouse. It’s in the slop with the pigs.
It should have come as no surprise, but as usual, the act of actually writing down the jumble of mess in my brain has had the effect of breaking some of the spell. I was also forced to focus on work because of looming deadlines, and I currently feel calmer than I have since Sunday. But I am truly living in fear of June 13. I cannot go through this again, and I know that I’m bound to, because I know that what’s been shown so far won’t hold a candle to what’s coming. And if I get down bad any further, I will be deep enough in the ground for this to become my final resting place. I’m not ready to be buried, but it feels inevitable.
But somehow, despite my own wants and fears, and despite the fact that we haven’t even been introduced yet to the bedroom where Colin and Penelope are sure to end up, I am somehow already lurking from behind the window curtains in the corner, peeking out at them doing the deed. I know what I hope I’ll see: based on the excerpt I’ve seen from the book, they will be in front of a mirror — expressly because Colin wants Penelope to see herself in full for the glorious goddess she is, and she will look at her sexy, bare self with just as much pride and love as we viewers behind the screen will (but probably with slightly less lust than Colin, who I pray will be very loud about how hot she is).
I am dreaming about this scene, but I dread it. Because if it’s as good as the carriage scene, I will immediately be re-enscripted and sent right back to the trenches where I spent the last six days. I’m excited, but I’m scared. And I’m afraid of getting lost in the woods again, because I know that if I do, I won’t want to be found.
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It’s the end of May, which means I’m sad and insane about the khux finale again
lol just kidding, I’m ALWAYS sad about the khux finale!
anyway, here’s a ramble analysis-esque thing about how the most tragic trio of all time has hurt me
The Ephemer and Skuld fight is so much more excruciating when you remember that for literally the entire game, all they wanted was for Player to be safe, even if it meant breaking rules and hiding things from them.
Eph and Skuld saved Player from the keyblade war even though they weren’t a Dandelion, and realistically should’ve been left behind to meet their fate like all the other non-Dandelions. Instead, they chose to take Player to the new world and spare them from the trauma of the war, carrying the burden of those memories in their stead.
You have to remember that Eph and Skuld were also on the battlefield during the war, or at least during the tail end of it. They never talk about it on screen, but even if they were only there for a short time, seeing all that destruction, and all those wielders dying on the battlefield when they were basically given a free pass to escape it all, had to have been insanely horrific for both of them.
And then seeing Player, their friend, on the brink of dying, is enough to shake the two of them to their core, and go against their initial beliefs. Eph believed that it would be better for everyone to remember the past, for the future’s sake. And Skuld believed in doing what was right, even if it meant unveiling the ugly truths no one wanted to hear.
The cutscene where they’re talking to Chirithy about hiding the truth is so poignant to me because while Skuld and Eph do feel bad about withholding stuff from Player, after seeing the literal end of the world and them on the brink of death, they’ve agreed that it’s the lesser evil, that it’s worth doing. They keep Player close enough to watch over them. They keep them busy with new jobs, and happy with new friends, blissfully unaware of what they had to endure. Because as selfish as it is, lying to Player is miles better than seeing them in pain. Than seeing them die.
BUT here’s the thing: Eph and Skuld never considered that Player would feel the exact same way about them. That Player would be willing to lie to their faces and “go against what they believe”, turning into the very enemy they were trained to defeat, for their sake. It’s an ironic twist, and the smartest thing Player has ever done, preying on Eph and Skuld’s worst fear in order to ensure they truly fight for themselves and make it out safely, instead of pulling the self sacrifice play they were intending. Player literally used an uno reverse card on them and it worked.
The three of them lied and changed to protect each other, and neither party ever found out the truth in the end. They trusted one another with their lives, and trusted themselves to do what was right on each other’s behalf. And damn, did they do it. khux ends with these three friends beating the shit out of each other, their lives crumbling underneath the weight of how much they care about each other, and as far as we know, they never see each other again. At least not for another several centuries, give or take.
god. Just. god. What the hell did Nomura inject into these three and why am I still crying about it 3 years later???
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THOUGHTS ON THE S4 TRAILERRRR
None of this filler post bs anymore my favorite characters are back and here's what I have to say about it.
First of all, I kind of went on hiatus from this show back in January so it feels really weird seeing them on screen again especially since the last time I was so excited for it was literally January 2023 (a year and a half ago) when I binged the whole show.
"Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys?" What????
FIVE LILA HUG YESSSSS BRO PLATONIC FRENEMIES ASF. BUT DID SOMETHING HAPPEN TO DIEGO???
Klaus breathing into a bag/hanging upside down/doing an actual seance. what is this man. bro seems kinda depressed
DIEGO AND LILA PARENTSSSS??????? YAYYYYYYY
DIEGOLILA KID BDAY PARTY???? ***also I noticed the piñata AND all the women wearing saris, so that's really cool because the kid is growing up with both cultures
"Smile!!!!" "oh god"
ALLISON AND CLAIRE REUNITED YESSSS
wait does that mean ray is also back????
Viktor working at a bar????? And sounding more confident than he's ever been in his life?????
VIKTOR PUNCHING ALLISON IN THE SAME ROOM WHERE THEY HAD THE ACTUAL S3 CONFRONTATION????
Luther????? and the spacesuit?????
Viktor talking to reginald?
What the fuck is that weird rainbow drone thing????
Reginald hold machine gun?
THE BALL PIT IS THE MAIN CHARACTERRR
"This is a rescue mission >:("
BEN IN JAIL
why reginald put headphones on everyone :O
"We drive each other crazy. But when things go to hell, they're there for me." IM CRYINGGGG
Overall I'm so excited for this season. It seems like they're finally together as a family and actually want to be family again (not because of forced proximity or running out of time). Also lots of fun set locations, no covid restrictions, new characters. Holy shit I can't wait I am so excited.
Finally if you're a s4 hater I will be blocking you :)
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livingformintyoongi · 6 hours
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free use roommates/fwb??? Jungkook and yn 🫠
He gets home after a stressful day at work and goes to her bedroom.
While she's laying in bed just scrolling through TikTok he lifts her shirt up, no bra, and starts sucking on her big tits while she keeps scrolling like it's nothing (I mean she enjoys it but she doesn't get weirded out by that).
Just no explanation, she understands he had a rough day at work and lets him have his way sucking and playing with her tits and fucking her, because he would let her do the same with him.
They might be talking about what went wrong at work, how was her day... just casual conversations! After sucking - and playing with her nipples for a while, he fucks her (raw) doggy style and cums inside.
Friend-to-friend support
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a/n: It's my first time doing free use, I hope I did it right. I hope it was to your liking, and that you enjoyed it. warnings: The request says it all, I did not add anything else. wc: 1.9k taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss
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“Rough day?” you muttered, feeling Jungkook's weight fall on your chest. You just wrapped your arms around his neck, holding your phone above his head. 
“Yes” he murmured between your breasts, lightly inhaling your scent. He let out a heavy sigh, trying to relax his tense shoulder muscles. “I'm tired, frustrated and very upset.”
“Did you fight with Jimin again?” you looked away from your phone for barely a second, only to see your friend slip his hand under your shirt. You were quite aware of his intentions, so you didn't have much of a reaction to it either. Jungkook, on the other hand, was quite surprised to notice that you weren't wearing anything underneath.
“You didn't wear a bra tonight?” his big bright eyes locked onto yours, he looked so cute excited. 
“No, it was annoying, why?” your screen mirrored the video of a guy you'd never seen before, but he seemed to be talking about random space data. You found it interesting, so you left it until the end.
“Can I play with them?” he murmured, running his hands up to the level of your ribs, barely brushing his fingertips across the skin under your breasts. It was no secret Jungkook's obsession with your bust. Every day, ever since you started having this kind of “more than friends” relationship he would play with your breasts, squeezing them, kissing them, licking them, sometimes he didn't even do it in a sexual way, they just... helped him de-stress. Besides, according to him, they were much more comfortable than his pillow.
“If you want” you kept watching the videos of the guy you had just found, but this time you put on one that had to do with the sea and its mysterious and terrifying depths. You barely let out a moan as you felt Jungkook's hands squeeze your breasts.
“Thank you, you're the best” he laughed softly, lifting your shirt until it was completely wrinkled under your collar. His lips soon moved to your nipples, licking and biting one as he pulled and squeezed the other, his free hand traveled to your hips. He let out a moan of satisfaction, thoroughly enjoying the feel of your hard swollen button on his tongue.
“You hadn't answered my question” you mumbled, concentrating on how stupidly interesting the account you had just found was becoming. 
“Yeah, we fought again, I hate fighting with him” he sighed, smiling as he noticed how your nipples hardened even more, “but it's okay, we always talk the next day when we fight, maybe tomorrow I'll stop by his apartment so we can talk” he placed his lips in the center, right where your breasts seemed to meet. He licked and kissed that little bit of skin until it was completely red. “I love how pretty your skin looks when I mark it.”
“You do? I guess I hadn't noticed” you laughed softly, watching as he tried to bite as much of the flesh off your left breast as he could.
“Your breasts are so pretty too” he smiled slightly, taking both between his hands to press them against the other, giving both mounds kisses as he hummed contentedly. He liked it when you were willing to do whatever he wanted with them. “I love them.”
“Yes, Jungkook, I know,” you rolled your eyes with a smile, feeling an electric current in your back after he buried his teeth around your nipple, tugging at it carelessly. “Careful, animal.”
“Sorry, I got excited,” he looked at you apologetically, pausing just a few seconds only to return to his work from before, but this time much more carefully.
You nodded, bringing one of your hands to his hair, fiddling with it as he continued his work and you continued to watch more videos on your phone absentmindedly.
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More than thirty minutes had passed, yes, thirty, and Jungkook had never stopped licking, kissing and biting your nipples. On more than one occasion you had let out a sigh or gasp, and by this point you were wet enough to be able to fuck him without any problem. Still, you were too focused on how a girl was trying to clean a carpet that looked like it had come out of hell itself. You had no idea how it had gotten into such a deplorable state, but it was quite amusing to watch it being cleaned.
“Y/N?” he asked coyly, looking at you with his oh-so-characteristic bambi eyes that you loved so much. You hummed in response, still not letting go of the dirt coming out of the carpet. “Can I fuck you?”
You watched him out of the corner of your eye, noticing his labored breathing, his red cheeks and his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. You had felt the occasional loud movement he made that moved the bed, but you hadn't realized it was him trying to relieve his erection until this very moment. 
“Sure, no problem” you turned your full attention back to the video, hearing hundreds of “thank you's” from Jungkook. His firm hands grabbed your hips and turned you around, making you stand with your back to him. “Oh, by the way, your brother called today, he said he wanted you to go visit him.” 
“Really? He called here? I didn't have any missed calls on my cell phone” he mumbled, pulling down your athletic shorts so he could leave your middle exposed. He licked his lips at the wetness in your underwear. “Did you tell him I was busy?”
“Well, technically yes you were” you moaned softly as you felt his tip brush your entrance through the thin fabric of clothing, “don't you remember? You went to take a shower, left your cell phone on the bed, your ringtone was too annoying, so I was forced to answer it.”
“Sure” he murmured, pushing aside your underwear, pressing his tip against your hole. He seemed to want to tease you, pulling out and pressing his cock against you again. You'd be lying if I said it didn't irritate you. “Hey, wait, my ringtone rocks.”
You were going to laugh at his comment, but just as you opened your mouth he shoved his member inside you. It didn't hurt like the first few times, you were starting to get used to his size, but that didn't take away from the fact that it felt strange every time he was inside.
“Your ringtone is a baby's cry with the fucking autotune set over it, Jungkook, it's horrible” you snorted as you realized you couldn't keep watching videos in this position. Jungkook's thrusts were making you move along with him and, consequently, the video was moving as well. It made you too dizzy.
“It's harmonious” he said with a chuckle, grabbing your hips so he could quicken his pace. He couldn't help but watch as you settled your phone against the pillows, playing some sort of compilation of videos about thorough cleaning of stuffed animals that looked like anything but stuffed animals.
“No, it's irritating” you said, trying not to moan too loudly, you'd had problems with the neighbors in the past, you weren't about to listen to them berate you again. 
Jungkook moved down until his chest pressed against your back, his hands returning to your breasts as he shamelessly played with them. He left several kisses scattered along your back, smiling at the sight of your tattoo under your neck. He loved the way it looked on you.
“I love being inside you, you're so warm, so tight, and all just for me... it feels even better after thinking about it” he whispered near the shell of your ear, leaving a soft kiss behind your ear. He growled softly as he felt you tighten around him.
“I didn't think you were this sensitive, Jungkook” you murmured, your attention completely on the video, or so it seemed. You were starting to feel your stomach shrinking more and more, and your brain seemed further and further away from functioning normally. 
“Let me be, it feels good to show myself as I am with you” he chuckled, going faster and faster. His nails barely burying themselves into the flesh of your hips as he fucked your pussy with the sole intention of making you come. Your pleasure was his pleasure, that was a fact, he couldn't come if you didn't first.
“It's okay, I didn't mean it in a bad way, I like it when you get like this, it's tender” you swallowed saliva, grabbing the sheet beneath you only to cling to it discreetly. It was hard to stay conscious when Jungkook seemed so determined to fuck you until you were in fucking heaven. Every night with him was like that really....
“Thank you, it means a lot to me” he whispered against your neck, lowering his hand to your clit, letting his fingers play with it as he pleased, “and you definitely deserve a treat from me.”
You laughed, resting your forehead on the bed, “I deserve a prize?”.
“Yep” he smiled, marking your neck, “you're very good to me, it's the least”, his fingers started to move faster and his lunges were starting to get more and more accurate. You had understood what he meant, and you knew he knew your body well enough to know which spot to hit so he could completely disconnect you.
And you were absolutely right.
Almost instantly after you thought of that, Jungkook's head hit your G-spot in the most exquisite way possible. You had to bite your lower lip to keep from screaming. 
“You're so tight... will you come soon?” he whispered, starting to move more sloppily than before. 
You just nodded in response, completely refusing to open your mouth. You had to control yourself. 
“Good, me too” he smiled against your head, moving his hips so hard against yours that your legs ended up giving way and falling against the mattress. “Can I do it inside? Please?”
“Y-yes, go ahead” you murmured, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten tighter and tighter,
“Thank you, thank you so much, God, you're amazing” he growled against your ear, pounding your G-spot until he felt you cum all around him, dripping down to his fingers that were still taking care of your clit. It wasn't until that moment that he let his cum spurt out and spread inside you, staying inside you for a few seconds, giving strong but long thrusts until he was completely empty.
He leaned against your back for a few minutes, just until his breathing was fully regulated. He pulled out of you once he felt he could move without shaking completely. He fixed your clothes, letting his cum remain inside you, then took it upon himself to find your shorts and carefully put them on you again.
“Come here” he murmured, turning you around so he could fix your shirt, “ready, good as new” he chuckled, laying down on top of you, letting your breasts be under his head to use as a pillow. “Are you going to keep looking at your phone?”.
“If you want we can watch a movie.” you looked sideways at him, gently stroking his hair.”
“Right answer, this is exactly why you're my best friend” he gave you his trademark bunny smile as he grabbed the remote from the nightstand and turned on the TV, “let's watch Iron Man.”
“Again?” you looked at the screen, laughing. Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist protectively.
“Yeah, it's the best movie in the universe.”
“Fine, whatever the boss says” you replied with a smirk, settling in to watch your friend's favorite movie for the thousandth time. 
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Masterlist.
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onceuponapuffin · 2 days
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Fanatic Intervention Part 15!!!
Okay, this is gonna be a long one, but I promise it's important. There was just a lot that I had to get in here. Also we had our first ever tie! So I chose between the two. Alright, let's do this. Enjoy!
Beginning || Previous || Next
*******************
The bar in question is rowdy and rustic. The crowd that has already gathered is loud, probably drunk, and honestly makes you wish you had some anxiety meds with you or something because the button in your pocket is a single thread holding you together when you could really do with a rope. You look over to Aziraphale, who’s grimacing at the scene. Oh good, so you’re not the only one who isn’t a fan of this place. You notice Crowley studying the bar – no doubt trying to get a sense for their selection.
“Over there,” Anathema shouts over the noise. You follow her pointing arm to see Sardis, already at a table and waving you over. Well, at least you definitely have a space to sit. That’s something.
The four of you approach Sardis who waves you into the seats around him with an enormous smile.
“Welcome!” He says grandly, “To my favourite place this side of town.”
“Your favourite place,” You repeat with skepticism, “Is a dive bar?”
“Oh not just any dive bar Little Moth,” Sardis winks as he speaks, “The best karaoke bar this side of the bayou. Personal opinion, of course. But I am an angel after all so feel free to take that as gospel.” He laughs loudly at his own joke. You chuckle uncertainly. Aziraphale shakes his head. Anathema rolls her eyes. Crowley looks like he could vomit. Basically, Sardis is the only one amused. Once he finally stops laughing, he looks around at you. “Such sour faces, my friends. But of course you have, I’ve forgotten my manners! Let me get you some drinks before the festivities start.”
“The festivities?” asks Aziraphale, “I’m sure you don’t mean...”
“The karaoke, of course!” Sardis smiles before leaving the table with a wink. “Be back in a sec!”
“I am not singing,” Crowley states firmly.
“Nor am I,” Aziraphale frowns.
“We may need to consider it,” Anathema says after a pause, “He has information that we need, and we may have to play his game to get it.”
“I mean, I don’t exactly…dislike him...but he's weird,” You, the dimensional traveler, observe.
“Oh absolutely weird,” agrees the witch.
“A very weird one indeed, yes,” affirms the angel of the Eastern Gate.
“Weird as all fuck,” confirms the demon.
Sardis returns carrying a tray with five drinks and lays it proudly on the table in front of them.
“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I took my best guess,” Sardis announces as he hands around the drinks, “Sherry for the angel, whiskey for the demon, margarita for the witch, and I played it safe and got you a sangria.” He lays the alcohol in front of each of you. You take a sip and holy crow is it ever delicious. “’S that good, Little Moth?” Sardis asks you as he takes his own seat. You nod, and his smile grows. “Good, glad to hear it.”
“Thank you kindly, Sardis,” Aziraphale ventures, taking a sip of his sherry, “Now, perhaps would you mind telling us what you know?”
Sardis laughs again. He laughs a lot, you notice. Probably having the time of his life with all of this.
“What I know is that I’m not saying anything about Jesus until you sign up and sing me a song.”
Honestly, you need to take a deep breath at that. The irritation is building. First he wouldn’t say anything until you came here, and now he won’t say anything until you sing for him. He keeps changing the goal posts on you. Anathema had said you might need to play his game to get information from him, but you honestly didn’t think it would feel so...condescending.
Anathema’s phone suddenly starts ringing. She pulls it out of her pocket, and you briefly notice the What’s App logo and Newt’s face lighting up the screen. After a brief apology, she excuses herself from the table and leaves the bar. Well. Lucky her. You sigh and stand.
“Yeah okay fine, I’ll be right back.”
“Where’re you going?” Crowley asks. His question has bite, but you’re sure it isn’t anger – he just doesn’t want everyone to end up leaving him with Sardis.
“I’m going to sign up,” You say, “Sing a song. Karaoke, right?” You look at Sardis, who nods appreciatively.
“There now! Little Moth gets it!”
Crowley and Aziraphale both gawk at you, but you’re already turning and beelining for the sign-up table.
Now here, dear Reader, let’s take a moment to talk about the Anxiety Loophole. In ordinary circumstances, you’d be lucky to talk to a crowd and sound normal about it (not to mention the possibility of nausea and such), but the Anxiety Loophole is a magical and gracious thing. In a situation where there is something that must be done, and everyone around you is too scared or embarrassed or anxious themselves to do it, suddenly it becomes possible for you. You may never dream of asking for your food to be sent back at a restaurant, but if your friend needs more ketchup and is too nervous to ask for it, you will put the chef in a headlock if you have to in order to get it for them. Or, say, if an angel and a demon have expressly stated their discomfort with singing in public, and another angel with vital information demands a performance before telling you said information, signing up for karaoke suddenly seems like a piece of cake. Besides, you figure, most of the people in the room are drunk. So you pick something easy, something loud, something most people here probably know already. That way, they’ll do most of the work for you, and then you’re singing with them, instead of for them. Are you a genius? Yes, yes you are. Take the praise, Reader, you’re going to want that confidence in a few minutes.
You return to the table, having put your name and song on the list, and take a seat (and a very large sip of your sangria).
“There,” You declare, “Now how about we talk about Jesus while we wait for my name to be called.”
“You’re not actually serious about this,” Crowley asks. You look to Sardis.
“I am if he is.”
Sardis’ eyes widen in surprise before he smiles again. “Oh, I most definitely like you, Little Moth.” He leans his chin on his hands. “Tell me, what has Metatron had to say about you?”
Oh good. You’re actually getting somewhere.
“Nothing good,” You admit with a frown, “He tried to turn me into salt once, and then trapped me in a bathroom and tried to manipulate me.”
Sardis hums and nods in affirmation. Then he turns to Crowley and Aziraphale.
“And tell me, what have the two of you done about that?” he asks them. The both of them practically jump in surprise.
“W-well,” Aziraphale starts and stops.
“Ngggk,” says Crowley.
“Well you see, it’s a bit more complicated than…”
“So nothing then,” Sardis concludes.
“Wait,” You say, “That’s not fair.”
“Have you given Little Moth any way to defend or protect themselves?”
“They don’t need to!” You all but shout, “They’re with me basically all the time!”
But Sardis doesn’t seem to hear you. He stares at the celestials with an offended glare. Neither Aziraphale or Crowley seem to know what to make of it, but he doesn’t give them much of a chance to before he reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a card, and hands it to you. You take it from him, worried that if you don’t he might get upset with Aziraphale and Crowley and really it’s the Metatron’s fault, not theirs. Put the blame in the right place. Your hands are starting to shake a little as you look at the card.
“Oh!” You exclaim, relaxing a little. Actually it’s not all that bad. It’s a punch card of sorts. It reminds you a little bit of Furfur’s card from the 1941 minisode, but instead of being a Miracle Blocker, it’s a Miracle Enabler numbered 1 to 12. You notice that each number is perforated – meant to be torn off so that you don’t need to carry around a hole punch. Clever, actually. You show it to Aziraphale and Crowley.
“Oh my,” says Aziraphale, “That really is clever. I’m rather embarrassed to admit that the idea never came to me.”
“Huh,” Crowley adds, helpfully.
“Yeah,” says Sardis, “You probably never had to think about things like, what if they ever turn off your miracles Up There. Probably helps that your only mention in the Bible isn’t about how shit you are.”
You look at the card thoughtfully for a minute. You think about all the genie questions you’ve seen online.
“Go on, Little Moth,” Sardis coos gently, “Try it out.”
You glance at him and then back at the card. Well he’s not giving you any hints about how this thing works, so probably best to just follow your instincts. After taking a second to think, you rip off the number 1 and make a wish.
The number has disappeared from your fingers and reappeared attached to the card.
“Oop,” Sardis says, “Looks like that didn’t go through. What were you trying to do?”
“I was trying to make it so that I could do miracles without the card.”
Sardis starts to laugh. “Oh you have a clever mind! I like the way you think!” His laughter continues for a moment before he calms himself, though you notice it takes him some time. Then he shakes his head.
“Listen,” he says to you, “Humans just can’t do miracles. For you to be able to do them without the card, you would have to change your entire species. And this little thing just isn’t built for that sort of miracle. Try again, something smaller this time.”
Your brow furrows in concentration as you stare back at the card. Something reasonable that wouldn’t need a big change in order to work. Oh, wait a minute. You rip off the number 1, and make a wish. Suddenly, you notice that you are holding a second Miracle Enabler, full up.
“There you go, Little Moth,” Sardis sighs approvingly, “Now that’s how you do it!” The first card goes in a place you can easily reach – your jeans pocket, perhaps. The second one you fold up and place in your sock. For emergencies.
“What did you mean about your mention in the Bible?” Aziraphale ventures, apparently sensing that he isn’t in trouble anymore. Sardis raises an eyebrow.
“Didn’t you read Revelation?” he asks.
“Well yes, of course,” Aziraphale replies, “But I don’t recall it saying you were...well...bad.”
“Shit, Angel,” corrects Crowley, “He said it calls him shit.”
“I know your deeds; you have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead,” Sardis quotes, “Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your deeds complete in the sight of my God. Remember, therefore, what you received and heard; obey it, and repent.” He shakes his head. “Does that sound like a glowing report to you? No, see, I invited that asshat John over for brunch one time, okay? ONE. He gets the runs, blames it on the bacon. Next thing I know, I’m getting hate mail, supposedly from Jesus, with passive aggressive notes about people who haven’t soiled their clothes. Yeah, no, I know exactly whose message that was.” He huffs angrily and sips his drink.
“So….” You interject cautiously, “You stayed down here because...oh, because Heaven endorsed it?”
“Enthusiastically,” he confirms, “I’m just a minor angel – ha, barely that. More of a guardian. They don’t care about me as much as the message.”
You nod, Gabriel’s trial coming to mind. It’s all about the message.
“We know all about that,” You say gently, “They threatened to erase Aziraphale’s name from the Book of Life. Well, anyone really, who uh, helped Gabriel escape judgment.” Sardis raises an eyebrow at that.
“Oh yeah? What did that bureaucratic ass do?”
“He fell in love with Beelzebub and said ‘Nah’ to Armageddon Part 2.”
“Psh, oh yeah, that’ll do it,” Sardis says, taking another sip, “Not that any of them could erase anyone. Not really. You need to know someone’s true name for that.”
“Hold up,” says Crowley, “The Book of Life isn’t actually real?”
“Oh, it is,” says Sardis, “I know it for a fact. You see, one of the things of being an Original Angel of the Church,” he says the title mockingly, you notice, “is that you end up with a gift. Something to give the worthy when they ascend. Mine happens to be knowing everyone’s true name.”
“Wait a minute, wait,” You say, “That’s...that’s...”
“I know,” Sardis says, “Look, it’s like this. Most books that you read, the words are 2-dimensional, right? The Book of Life sort of has more than 2 dimensions to it. And it records everything. Now look,” he takes a packet of coarse sugar, “This is a soul,” he opens it and pours the chunks onto the table, “Each soul can be different people throughout its existence, and the Book, for accuracy purposes, records your name in whatever life you're living,” he picks up one crystal, “on the first dimension,” he places it on top of the paper pouch, “and your true name on the dimensions that lie underneath.” He sits up triumphantly. “So before you can actually erase anyone you need to know their true name, and before you know that, you need to know how to read the Book, and before that you need the gift to be able to perceive the different dimensions.”
“Which you have,” Crowley concludes. Sardis nods.
“Which I have, yes. Unfortunately, I also have the misfortune of never being able to be anywhere near the Book of Life. So I’m basically the angelic equivalent of a dolphin who knows all the secrets of Super Mario. I know it, but fat lot of good it does me. Or will ever, for that matter.”
You’re about to say something else, but your name gets called to the stage.
Oh. Oh right.
Oh shit.
You walk up to the stage and take the microphone uncertainly as the intro music for Taylor Swift’s Shake it Off starts to play. You chose it because you know some of the actions to it and I mean, the lyrics are so simple that you’re hoping the drunk crowd will start singing along with you.
“I stay out too late,
Got nothing in my brain,
At least that’s what people say,
That’s what people say,”
A random drunk person in the back cheers.
“But I keep cruisin’
Can’t stop won’t stop movin’
It’s like I got this music in my mind sayin’
It’s gonna be alright”
The entire bar claps three times. Oh wow.
Basically, your plan works. They all can’t help but join in for the chorus, and you end up having a lot of fun with it. Their enthusiasm is so validating, and after a minute or two you don’t care if it’s because of the alcohol or if they actually think you’re good. You just sing the song and you have a fabulous time of it. Honestly, it's hard to have a bad time singing and dancing to that song. You forget about saving the world, you forget that Crowley and Aziraphale are watching you, everything just fades away for a few minutes except for the lyrics on the screen in front of you and the energy of the people in the bar. For a few minutes, you’re just having fun, and that’s the most important thing about this, dear Reader.
When the song is over you return to the table. Anathema is finally back, and you notice she’s finished her drink pretty quickly. Good thing you ate before coming. Sardis is clapping for you.
“That was excellent! Great job, Little Moth! Here, have another one on me.” He waves his hand and a second sangria appears IN A FISHBOWL. Oh...Aziraphale and Crowley better cover you later, a hangover while one world-saving duty would suck.
Anathema clears her throat.
“So,” she says, you notice her voice shakes a little. Probably because she downed that drink so fast. “About Jesus.”
“Ah yes,” sighs Sardis, “The prodigal son himself. Well, I will tell you that he is here, though not in this city. Came down in a plane and everything.”
“Ha!” You say, pointing triumphantly, “I told you!”
Sardis chuckles. “Yes, what a day that was. Landed in Los Angeles thirteen years ago.”
You nearly choke on your drink.
“Los Angeles,” says Aziraphale, “Well that’s awfully on the nose, isn’t it?”
“Wait a minute,” You say, “So he’s an adult then, right? Not a baby?” You’re hoping. Your fingers are crossed that maybe he arrived in the states when he was a toddler, or a small kid.
“Oh no, not a baby, but not an adult either,” confirms Sardis.
“Don’t say it,” You beg.
“What’s wrong?” Aziraphale asks. Crowley looks like he’s on alert. Even Anathema looks a little unsure what to make of you.
“Okay actually just say it,” You decide, “How old is he?”
“He’s thirteen.”
“Oh shit,” says Anathema.
“Is he at least one of the nice thirteen year-olds?” You ask hopefully.
“Well,” says Sardis, “He’s definitely white this time, and his family is rich so, what do you think.”
You drop your head into your hands.
“Um, I’m sorry,” Aziraphale interrupts, “But, ah, what exactly is the problem here?”
When, dear Reader, was the last time you were around a 13-year-old boy? The age when they are all about proving how masculine they are, the age when they like to play rough in places where they really shouldn’t be playing rough, be mean for no reason other than because it makes them feel like a badass, jump and hoot and holler and laugh at anyone with sense because they get a kick out of adults getting angry with them. There is no force more annoying or enraging than a 13 year old, of any gender. But now add privileged and spoiled to that and you have a force to be reckoned with. You briefly relay this to Aziraphale.
“So,” You conclude, “The person who we need to convince to save the world, the person who needs to take this seriously or everyone dies terribly, the person who we need to care, has all the makings of the one person who is the least likely to care on the entire planet.”
“Ugh,” Anathema groans, “Why did they have to do it like that? I thought Jesus was supposed to be all about the outsiders and being kind to each other and things.”
“Well,” suggests Aziraphale, “I suppose that was probably the first time around. This time, they’re probably a bit less concerned about the, ah, morality of the whole thing, and more concerned about the messiah bit.”
“Right,” Anathema says with a disillusioned sigh, “And the fastest and easiest way for anyone to become a messiah in this world is to be rich, white, and male.”
“Cutting corners, I believe humans would say,” concludes Aziraphale.
Sardis nods, a frown upon his face. The previously cheerful angel isn’t laughing anymore as he raises his glass and says “To the world.”
❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤
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bibellebibuck · 23 hours
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Finale Thoughts
This is a long ramble that I’ve attempted to categorise and form into something coherent - but bear with me if there’s any mistakes, I’m working rn and didn’t have time to proofread🙏🏻
HENREN & MADNEY
I adore Madney and how inherently GOOD they are all the damn time. My favourite straights ever.
I know there’s differing opinions on this plot line but honestly I am glad that Madney are fostering Mara, for Maras sake. It’s a safe space her for where she’ll be loved and can keep in contact with Henren.
I do agree, though, that the constant struggles they put Henren through as they try to build their family is getting old and tired now, let them off the struggle bus, it’s time for a breather.
It’s a testament to how rushed this episode was that we didn’t even SEE the councilwoman at all. She just drops this bomb on the Henren family last episode and then disappears? No follow up? Okay.
My thoughts/hopes on these guys for S8 are; Madney will be left as they are once the Mara storyline is resolved (which I think won’t take long after the whole Gerrard situation is sorted) as they’ve had a lot going on with their wedding etc. I think they’ll be put aside for a while while other characters stories are expanded this season. I think it’s a possibility we’ll get another Buckley-Han baby after they see the sibling dynamic between Mara and Jee. Afterall, it was Maddie who commented on Denny and Mara “getting along so well” “like siblings”.
Henren specifically id like to see more of, I want Karen and DENNY! to have more screentime. Karen’s job is fucking interesting, SHOW US MORE SOMEHOW!! And Denny, what’s going on with his relationship with his dad now? This kids a great actor, give him a little more screen time.
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BATHENA & AMIR
Now, Athena was bad ASS this episode. I love BAMF Athena with all my heart, that’s literally my mother. Her talk with Amir was emotional and I think well written (one of the few well written moments in this episode..) but it all went downhill from there. Amir’s rescue was rushed as fuck, I wasn’t tense at all, Athena basically showed up, burnt the place down and sauntered out with Amir like it was nothing. Ofc my girl is capable of this no problem… but it wouldn’t have hurt to have had more of a fight scene, maybe Amir being a little more proactive, then show them struggling to get out of the fire? Idk. Just SOMETHING to expand on the scene a little. I did like “I’m Mrs Bobby Nash” though, hell yeah you are <3
Oh also Yay! May sighted!! Love my girl, wanna see more of her in S8 I miss her sooo much :(
For S8, I think Bathenas marriage issues should be gently explored a little more, i feel this plot line wasn’t properly resolved during the cruise eps? Idk maybe I’m just a nervous child of divorce but I’d like to see some of their trust issues put to rest. I mean, just an episode ago Athena was terrified Bobby was going to off himself, and Bobby literally retired without telling her. It’s not healthy, I wanna see them work it out and get stronger together. I don’t want more conflict between them to cause this though, maybe they just start up a conversation when things have calmed down and agree to talk it out or go to couples therapy or something. Leaving them where they are right now will feel like a dropped plot line.
I want to see more of Amir but I sincerely doubt we will, I have a feeling he won’t even be seen in S8 at all to be honest. It’s a shame, he’s an interesting character that I’d totally love the see explored more. Someone suggested he could be a connection opportunity for the hospital? I like that. Tim, take notes !!
I also want them to stop murdering Angela Bassets hair. Let her slay, please.
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BUDDIE
I wish I had more to say here, but sadly… I don’t. My heart is telling me we’ve been gently queer baited once again, but I think that’s just old scars hurting (Destiel and johnlock survivor ✊🏻), my head is telling me a lot of the hype was stirred up by us as fans giving journalists and actors comments a little too much credit.
This isn’t to say I don’t think Buddie is happening, i still have my naive little belief that if WILL be canon eventually. They’re just going to drag it out as long as possible for the drama and possibly to appease Those fans, and the older viewer base who won’t be pleased by buddie canon.
I was very disappointed by the scene after Chris left, where Buck just put his hand on Eddies shoulder. We can say all we like that the shoulder touch is Their Thing™️ but in that situation a hug was absolutely goddamn necessary. Idc about shipping, that man needed a hug from his best friend in that moment. I think Buck needed it too. They just said goodbye to their son for an indefinite amount of time ffs why are we standing here like absolute mugs.
S8 - I want gay Eddie this season. I want it.
I want gay Eddie and then I want them both to be single for a while and Then I want buddie. If they can fit this into season 8 while keeping a nice steady pace (I have little faith after this insanely rushed finale, but let’s give them the benefit of the short season doubt) then I want Buddie feelings realisation towards the end of S8.. possibly setting up canon for S9 or even ending S8 with canon and a cliffhanger.. maybe a good one this time though!
As much as I’d like to see Buck supporting Eddie as he navigates life without Christopher, I don’t think we’ll get many scenes between them at first. I think this is where Ryan is talking about Eddies isolation. He’s going to go to work, be with his family, then go home and be without his family, and it’s at this time that he’s going to be working on himself. To get better for Chris, and for his own mental health. This journey is his alone, and I think it (although a little painful) makes sense that Buck isn’t involved in this too much.
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EDDIE & CHRIS
To sum it up.. OUCH!
Eddie is an amazing father, and if you think otherwise just block me. He made a mistake with Kim, that does not make him a bad father. Him respecting Christopher’s space and choices in this ep was soooo healing and lovely to see, he called Buck because he knows Chris trusts and loves him and needed somebody to talk to, and knew he wasn’t the person for that right now.
I’ve seen some people bothered about how it’s unrealistic for the Diaz parents to have gotten to eddies so fast after the incident. To this I say, how are you not used to 911s complete disregard for timelines/timeline realism at this point? Just let it happen and move on, like it’s a fantasy land where time isn’t real. Now, I’m not American so maybe I don’t get the extent of the distance between LA/Texas - but still, I enjoy the show more I think, because I don’t overanalyse the timeline 😅
What I DO find unrealistic is that Chris would call his grandparents and not Buck. I’m not looking at this through shipping lenses either, I’m saying that when Eddie had his breakdown, Chris’s first instinct was to call Buck. When Chris was upset and scared at the Ana situation, he went straight to Buck. And now this, he doesn’t talk to Buck at all before calling his grandparents?
It makes sense that he wanted to go to Texas as if he stayed with Buck he wouldn’t really be getting much space from his dad, and maybe he’d be thinking that Buck/Eddie would be on his case trying to force forgiveness on him while he’s there. But I think he first instinct would still have been to Call Buck to discuss the situation first, to confide in him, ask for help. Then he’d call his grandparents.
For S8 - I hate to be a downer but I don’t think we’ll see Chris this season. At LEAST the entirely of 8a, anyways.
As I mentioned earlier, I think this season will show Eddie growing and healing from this situation and becoming the person he wants to be, for himself and for Chris.
I think there is a lot of potential for us to finally get some Eddie & Maddie scenes, she could open a conversation with Eddie about her own struggles with feeling like an unfit parent for Jee - maybe Buck initiates this conversation, asking Maddie to speak to him?
I hope he will finally be able to put his insecurities about his parenting aside and stop trying to find Chris a mother figure, and accept that they’re a fine (wonderful, even) family unit as they are.
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BUMMY / BT
Ooooohhh lord let’s get into it then.
It’s no secret that I hate this relationship. I do NOT hate it because I am a Buddie shipper, or because I’m homophobic (the fact that I have to clarify this is stupid, but the anon hate in my inbox means it’s necessary). When BiBuck became canon, I was OVERJOYED! I was excited to see Buck exploring his identity and enjoying a relationship with a new partner (I did want him to be single for a while originally, but it wasn’t a big deal, the Natalia relationship was barely a relationship anyways).
I initially had a bit of an ick from the way Tk kissed Buck to ~shut him up~ but I’m a bit of a hypocrite here because I don’t entirely hate this trope usually, but only when it’s between two well established characters who know each other well. At this point, Tk is still new to Buck so it did bother me a little. But, we move.
Then… the first date. I fucking hated this date, Tk almost outed Buck and then left him on the pavement like an a class ASS. I lost all interest in this relationship at this exact moment.
In this episode, on this date, we see Buck opening up about his relationship with Bobby as a father figure (WIN!! Let’s appreciate our small victories!!). Tk then gives us “but your fathers alive” which ?? What’s your point?? Why aren’t you comforting your partner right now?
And shared his own experience with having a shitty dad. We then get the daddy issues joke.
To detour for a moment; we all remember when Buck went to therapy and opened up about his sex addiction, right? How he was being vulnerable about his trauma/mental health, to the point that he was in actual tears… and then his therapist came onto him and slept with him. The show brushes this under the rug and even later makes a joke about it. We’ve all expressed our distaste for this in the past and rightly so. Aside from how morally wrong it was, it was also incredibly distasteful in a very real way.
We’re given a very close repeat of this situation in the finale. Tommy sexualising Bucks trauma is not only unfair on bucks character, but also a shitty slap in the face to real people in the real world too. How many times have we been sexualised for having “daddy issues”? The answer is a lot. This scene was Downright Offensive.
It’s so disappointing because in some ways this show is so progressive, and has handled some sensitive topics in such a great way in the past. But it’s really fumbled the bag with this one.
A large and hopeful part of me thinks all these tense/awkward/unhappy/unsatisfying BT scenes are a setup for BT bones in S8. If they wanted us to like Tk and be invested in this relationship, SURELY they’d make him more likeable & more supportive of Buck?
The awfulness of his character and the stilted scenes between him and Buck do feel intentional. And I reaaallly hope this is the case.
S8 - preferably, BT Bones off screen before the season even begins, Natalia style.
More likely, BT bones within 8a, due to Gerard’s return and the tension this will cause between him and Tk.
Most likely, BT bones by the end of 8b. I truly truly truly, with all my heart and head and hands, do not believe BT is surviving to season 9.
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BUCK
just wanted to put in a little paragraph here about Buck specially, piggybacking off of what I’ve said about his trauma being sexualised etc.
They have consistently missed opportunities to flesh out Bucks trauma, and he has MANY to choose from. If they continue to ignore this aspect of Buck, it will be a great disservice to his character. I know we all joke about wanting Buck to go through more shit situations for the angst, and how we want him to have a big breakdown at some point but honestly - it really is overdue. I don’t just want him to suffer for funsies, I want his character to make sense, I want him to continue to be massively relatable, I want him to address his trauma and work through it and move on etc. etc. etc.
Here’s hoping we get the single Eddie and Buck arcs in S8/maybe 9 and both of them get therapy, properly.
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RAVI
My boooyyy!!! The framing of that last shot, I do reckon Ravi will main soon. They didn’t drop his insane childhood lore, and built on him as a character (while Chim was at the academy with him) for no reason.
I am personally really looking forward to seeing him get a lot more screentime in S8. It’s what the people want!!!!!!
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GERRARD
Why did they act like this was such a major twist?? Like why else would they have shown him last episode..
I don’t really understand how he can have been made captain of the same firehouse he was removed from for bullying a crew that is literally still there.. but for the plot I guess we’ll go with it!
I look forward to him finally getting his comeuppance in season 8, but the asshole he’s going to be to everyone sounds less fun.
Let’s look at what we might have in store, hm?
-Racist to Chim, Hen and now probably Ravi too.
-Homophobic to Buck.
-If Bobby is around, no doubt he’ll be demeaning to him.
-And, i fear, if he somehow knows about Eddies current situation, will he make snide remarks about him as a father? Idk, I wouldn’t put anything past the bastard.
I’d really like to see the team take a stand against him though, I know he’s their captain for now and they will, to an extent, respect him (or at least do as he says). But it would be nice to see some firefam crew solidarity the face of his bigotry and bullying. It won’t be realistic if any of them just stand by and listen/watch while he makes shitty racism/homophobic jokes to their family.
Going to be a fun (🫠) few episodes!
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FINAL THOUGHTS
As an episode, this wasn’t horrendous, but certainly not great. As a finale, it was terrible. Underwhelming sums it up, disappointing emphasises it nicely.
I look forward to getting back to a full length season that has hopefully will be written a little more in advance than this one was. Let’s be optimistic, or this hiatus won’t be too enjoyable.
Can’t wait to spend the next few months binging Buddie fics and reading all your theories!! And don’t forget we get S8 BTS pics in just a few weeks 😭🫶🏻
Feel free to send me any asks if there’s something I’ve forgotten to mention that you’d like my thoughts on - or if you have any theories etc. I love to get asks from your guys 💛
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coraniaid · 2 days
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There's an interesting symmetry in the pattern of Faith and the Watcher's Council appearances on Buffy.
It's perhaps worth noting that neither Faith not the Council are ever quite as integral to the show as fandom likes to suggest.
Faith only appears in twenty episodes across the entire show (plus six more in Angel), and is only mentioned in just over a dozen more. That means she appears in fewer episodes of Buffy than Daniel Osbourne, Riley Finn, Jonathan Levinson or Andrew Wells, all of whom can also boast of having somthing something Faith never had during her time on the show: a last name. ('Lehane' is a post-Chosen reveal to support a tie-in RPG.) She never appears in the opening credits, suggesting she has less of a claim to be a major character than any of Buffy, Willow, Xander, Giles, Spike, Anya, Dawn, Angel, Cordelia, Riley, Tara or Oz. Faith isn't the first Slayer other than Buffy we meet, and she isn't the last. There is a run of over forty episodes in a row (starting from Blood Ties in Season 5) in which Faith's name is simply not spoken by anybody on screen.
It would be very easy for a casual fan of the show to completely forget that Faith ever existed. Pick a random episode of the show and there's a more than 75% chance she won't be mentioned in it.
The Watcher's Council are first mentioned by name in Season 3's Faith, Hope & Trick (the first episode in which Faith herself appears), though there were occasional references to Watchers other than Giles before that. We hear about Giles's father and grandmother having been Watchers before him in Season 1's Never Kill A Boy On The First Date; we're told about Kendra's Watcher Sam Zabuto in Season 2's What's My Line?; and we briefly see Buffy's unnamed first Wacher during a flashback in the same season's Becoming.  (Perhaps most notably, when she hears the prophecy of her own imminent death in Season 1’s Prophecy Girl, Buffy wonders what the Slayer after her will be like and asks Giles: “will you train her, or will they send someone else?”.) But the Council themselves, as a group capable of giving Giles orders, are only mentioned in a total of twenty episodes, and (other than Watchers like Giles and Wesley), representatives of the Council only appears in six of those twenty episodes. Buffy quits the Council in Graduation Day (the same time that she tries to kill Faith), and they never really feature much in her life after that.
It would be very easy for a casual fan of the show to completely forget that the Council ever existed. Pick a random episode of the show and there's a more than 85% chance they won't be mentioned in it.
And yet, if you pick an episode with Faith in it, the odds of the Council being mentioned increase from less than 14% to exactly 60%. If you pick an episode with the Council in it, the odds of Faith being mentioned jump from under 23% to over 83% (the only episode to feature the Council which doesn't mention Faith is their last appearance in Never Leave Me). This isn't just because both of them feature heavily in Season 3, either.
Giles refers to the Watchers' Council by name for the first time when he tells Buffy that "the Council has approved our request" for Faith to stay in Sunnydale. Faith does not appear in Helpless (she couldn't, or the episode wouldn't work) but unlike in previous episodes where she isn't around her absence is noted. Giles convinces Buffy in part to spend time staring at the crystals he will use to hypnotize her and drug her by favorably comparing her to Faith: "since Faith is not interested in proper training, I must rely on you to keep up with yours". The Council come to Sunnydale in Consequences and This Year's Girl and Who Are You? to abduct Faith and either kill her or take her away to England. The one time Buffy says Faith's name in Season 5 -- the one reason that run of forty episodes I mentioned earlier isn't a run of fifty-two episodes -- comes when the Council visit again in Checkpoint and she remembers that "when I was Faith" the Council tried to kill her. (Buffy also brings up the Cruciamentum for the first time since Helpless in this episode; another time that the Council tried to kill her.) The Council's last ever mention on the show comes in Dirty Girls, which is also the episode in which Faith returns to the show.
None of which, of course, is a coincidence. While the show doesn't care about Faith or the Council as much as the fandom does, they do both have a very clear and deliberate metaphorical meaning. Faith is Buffy: the Buffy we see in When She Was Bad and in Anne and the Buffy we later see clawing her way out of the grave in Season 6. A Buffy with no friends or family, a Buffy who desperately wants some sort of parental figure in her life but refuses to listen to anyone who she thinks might be trying to control her or stop her enjoying being a Slayer. And the Council are an embodiment of all the worst parts of Giles we see in the first two seasons: Watchers who only see Buffy as a weapon and refuse to let her have an ordinary life, who risk her life and her mother's life for no good reason, who give her orders and offer scraps of information but are revealed ultimately to be hollow and powerless.
(I've complained a lot before about fandom trying to pretend there isn't this sort of complexity to Buffy and Giles's relationships in the early season -- that Buffy doesn't have nightmares about her Watcher secretly being one of the monsters who wants to kill her, or that he doesn't make unjustified and hypocritical attempts to contol her personal life while shutting her firmly out of his, or that Joyce isn't justified in being angry at Giles for what he's been putting her daughter through for years -- but it's only fair to note that this is something the writers do too. The Cruciamentum of Helpless becomes, in Buffy's later retelling in Helpless, something that "the Council" did to Buffy, as if it wasn't Giles who drugged her and lied to her face about it; as if Giles really had made the conscious decision to choose Buffy over his career as a Watcher and not been forced into it by being fired. But remember what Giles says in Helpless: how he justifies the need for Buffy to study the crystals he shows her -- to undergo the preparation for the Cruciamentum in other words. This is a part of a Slayer's "proper training", and since Faith is "not interested" in that he has to rely on Buffy.)
Faith is the part of Buffy who stubbornly rebels against all authority and the Council exist to be an authority that Buffy is justified in cutting all ties with. No wonder then that the Council spend so much time trying to capture or kill Faith. No wonder that their fates are intertwined so thoroughly.
No wonder that Buffy's early Season 2 nightmare of being murdered by her Watcher ("I mean, I've killed you once: it shouldn't be too difficult to do it again") becomes, by Season 5, a memory that "when [she] was Faith" (or When She Was Bad, you might say...) "the Council" tried to kill her. No wonder we never see Faith go through the Cruciamentum: Faith does not have anyone in her life she trusts enough to be betrayed like that. No wonder that, since Faith is the part of Buffy who refuses "proper training" from the start, Buffy is forced by the Council -- and by Giles -- to symbolically undergo the Cruciamentum in her place.
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livetiny-dienever · 1 year
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“I’ve always known since I first met him –however many years ago it is now, almost 20 years – that he is one of the great actors, not just of his generation, but of all time,” he says.
“And I’ve been waiting for the project, and I know he has too, where we can collaborate with him as the lead, and I could put the most enormous weight – cinematic weight – on his shoulders, and watch him carry that burden. It was such a thrill to be able to call Cillian, and say, ‘This is it.’
Christopher Nolan
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milflewis · 3 months
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#in a strange place today and i need to put this somewhere. i do not have a journal yet. this is it#my grandad was diagnosed with dementia years ago and the grandad i have now is often unrecognisable from the one i grew up with#and while this like isn’t fun and it is strange for him to look at me and not know me more times than he does. it has also been kind of l#lovely?#bc he thinks my granny is still alive so whenever i get to go see him i get to pretend she is too. and she is for a minute. and tho i am#glad she went before him. it is nice to say oh i’m popping in to see her after this grandad and talk about her like she’s hasn’t been gone#since i’ve been ten. my dad has spoken more to him in the last five years than he has his whole life#he was not an easy man. he was loud and friendly and hard working and funny and scary but not easy. in ways he is even#harder now. in others he is easier.#he is more of a child. this is what dementia can do to a brain. we are learning things about his childhood that no one alive has ever spoken#about. that no one knew. my dad doesn’t love him more now but he understands him better#my grandad taught me how to drive a tractor and how to fish through my dad and he has not recognised me in over a year and he#hasn’t walked since he broke his pelvis seven years ago and his muscles are nearly all gone. he is a fraction of the size he used to be. his#personality and body took up my childhood like adults on the screen in cartoons. he hasn’t dressed himself in a decade. he told one of the#nurses that after dinner he wanted ice cream plain like herself and nearly peed when she laughed and told him to fuck off#he is in there. he is himself. i know him. but he isn’t. he doesn’t know me but he allows me to tell him how to ppl he knows are doing. he#still somehow trusts me. we talk a lot about my granny and how she stayed up watching tv again last night so she’s tired today. don’t stay#long when you call in to see her?#whenever we would journey to see him and my granny and get in v late he’d ask us if we wanted apple tart and my granny would say michael.#not ur kids. u can’t parent them. he didn’t know my name yesterday but he asked me if i wanted apple tart#i hope he dies soon. for all that i will miss this. miss my dad having this. he would not want to live like this. it wouldntbe living to him
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tariah23 · 2 months
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They’re calling my baby Gojo, Joseph Joestar now
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#rambling#the diff is that Gojo did apologize after being called out and face to face with his racism whilst Joseph literally befriended nazi’s 😵‍💫#and there was never any explanation from araki as to why he’d even wrote German soldiers in the shit in the first place like that was#absolutely jarring as hell to read for the very first time back when I’d gotten into jjba#well I watched it first but you know#like Joseph really thought fondly of Stroheim as this stand up guy even though he’s first of all#a Nazi#and second#the first scene that we were introduced to was of him sexually harassing a Woman#it’s……. 🗿#still to this day I wonder if araki had ever addressed this because lord#Joseph was just happy to get the help I guess but that felt so ooc for him from what he’d seen 🗣️#happily receiving the help of a Nazi and calling them a nice guy ahhh Joseph-#Gojo would never sjjsaj#my boo boo is a little prejudice but he’s working on it 🗣️#I still think that gege was trying to have a ‘racism is bad’ moment but again#the execution was pretty awkward and it felt out of place considering what had been currently going down in the manga#like the Racism was pretty random but it was swiftly put to a stop which I can appreciate even if it shouldn’t have been a point of#conversation to begin with since why couldn’t Miguel just exist as a character instead of him being the now token negro#who everyone sees as instantly more frighteningly powerful than everyone else like this didn’t even need to be brought up wllssldk#idk gege was trying to be ‘woke’ 😭. sorry nbs and wp ruined the term for me but like basically lol#gojo’s pretty intelligent and extremely gifted but he’s never been perfect lol#it’s just that idk why gege chose to talk about antiblackness in Japan out of nowhere about the only black character on screen hehhhhhh#like gege tried but lmfao#this is so funny to me#at least it didn’t drag on putting Miguel in an even more awkward situation than he already was and it was nipped in the bud quickly#Gojo isn’t one to dwell on things but when he’s face with new information and is taught something he does try to reflect and do better and#I’m sure he probably started to become even more aware of what he’s saying especially when talking to Miguel in an honest way since that’s#always been the kind of character who he was despite the horrors#the only ppl who’ve been kinda annoying about this are nbs and white people as always 🗿
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kedreeva · 1 year
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Hihi, me again ☺Hope you're doing well. I was wondering, do you think Eddie is insecure? He seems so confident and sure of himself but the bullying can't have gone by without leaving a mark on our poor boy
I think everyone in the entire world is insecure in some way or another. I don't think Eddie is exceptionally insecure compared to average. He - fully aware of where he stands in social status at the school - full on invited a cheerleader who is the girlfriend of one of... well, enemy is a bit strong, but you get what i mean when I say, the girlfriend of one of his enemies back to his place to sell her the Extra Drugs, instead of telling her he could bring them the next day or something. At some point these kids looked at him and said "we need you to play the guitar to distract a bunch of monsters and also the fate of the town and maybe the world depends on you doing this" and he was like sure I'm in, I'm capable of that. I think he was genuinely surprised to find that he "ran away" from what happened to Chrissy BECAUSE he isn't normally like that, he normally has confidence in his capabilities.
This isn't to say that bullying didn't have an effect, or that he couldn't be hiding insecurities. Everyone does that. He probably does that. But also sometimes bullying goes the other way, if you've got enough "fuck you" inside and a parent or guardian and/or friend(s) that has got your back. Sometimes that kind of confidence isn't covering up insecurities. Sometimes it's the result of the same kind of interactions as the one he had with Jason in the lunchroom. Sometimes, if you've bitten back hard enough a few times, you reach a point where you find out your bullies are scared of you. The point where you can jump up to high ground and challenge them in front of everyone, and all they'll do is tuck tail.
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2 months post rina
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marklikely · 2 years
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i really do wonder if we'll see the end of the mcu soon though cause the quality of the movies has undeniably been getting worse, and ive noticed a lot of casual fans (which is what most people i know are, including myself, at least a few years ago when i would have actually considered myself a fan at all) are completely uninvested in phase 4 and havent really liked any of the movies lately. plus with how fast theyre pushing them out, overexposure could lead to a huge backlash soon
#when i say soon i mean like within 10 years because the disney project plans stretch out so far into the future#i mean idk we might get a big collapse that cancels a ton of future projects like with star wars but i doubt it#avpost#but idk i think mcu backlash is definitely a lot more common now than it was five or six years ago#but then again i think of how like all they had to do was get people from the raimi trilogy to stand on screen#and that was enough to get a ton of people to consider nwh to be great even though it sucks#not that thats necessarily proof that the movies are gonna survive either since a lot of people also didnt like nwh#i dont know it just feels like every release is either middling reviews or extremely mixed reviews. only those two options#plus they all get like almost no hype and excitement and then they leave the conversation so fast#people were talking about infinity war for MONTHS before release. like IN DEPTH talk. big major hype.#and then after it came out people were speculating and writing theories the ENTIRE time until endgame#nobody is talking about doctor strange 2 anymore and that was like two months ago#in two weeks or less nobody will be talking about love and thunder anymore im sure#nobody even noticed eternals. nobody talks about shang chi or black widow.#even the shows like the only one that left any sort of impact was wandavision.#the rest just like. air. and i dont ever see them come up in conversation or online after like the first couple episodes#(keeping in mind that im sure the most hardcore of fans are invested but im talking abt the general population)#(which is like. probably more important cause you cant keep a project this big alive on a specific fanbase alone)
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too-deviant · 27 days
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strategic manoeuvre.
— WITH…ART DONALDSON!
contains...babysitter!reader, age gap, 18+ MDNI, art cheats w reader but it is lowkey implied that tashi planned the whole thing, car sex, semi-public sex, head (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, inspired by this post from @traumatrios
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You had never been interested in tennis before Art. 
You weren’t interested in sports at all, really — you just wanted to buckle down and focus on your college work, earn some money with an easy part-time job. You didn’t have time to follow sports, or anything else. 
But then you got a call. You had been in the middle of a lecture when your phone buzzed against your notebook, a California number shining up at you and enticing you to pick up. Normally you would’ve let it go to voicemail, but you had recently gone around some of the fancier hotels in your city with flyers, asking for babysitting jobs and posting your number, so you excused yourself with a wave and took the call in the hallway. 
You didn’t know who Tashi Donaldson was when she introduced herself, but the hotel she’d asked you to come to later that night was fancy enough that you didn’t question it. You had done an extensive google search afterwards, of course, but simply raised an impressed brow at her repertoire. 
Then you met Art, her tennis player husband and the father of the lovely little girl you would be taking care of, and suddenly you were pretty interested in tennis. 
It started when Lily had a bad nightmare and you couldn’t get her down — well, it started when you met the guy, palm sweaty in his own as he introduced himself, but it didn’t really start until you had to put one of his old games on the TV for the girl to watch until she fell asleep at your side, tear tracks from her bad dream dry on her cheeks. 
You had been planning on carrying her back to her bed when she was down for the count, but you had been so fixated on Art’s movements; his determined look, his arms, his legs, that you ended up dropping out too. You woke up a few hours later with a blanket over your body and Art standing quietly at the kitchen island behind the sofa. 
“You looked peaceful. Didn't wanna wake you.” He’d said, sipping at his tea, and you knew you were done for. 
Now all of a sudden you had time to watch a tennis match in the morning, play one as background noise while you studied. You had started following his tennis journey right from the Junior Open in 2006 — you didn’t think you'd ever actually see him again, but you could fantasise about it whenever you remembered the smell of his cologne as he thanked you for taking care of Lily, promising a big tip would go straight into your account in the morning. 
(The money went in fifteen minutes after you’d left).
It came as a pleasant surprise when Tashi’s number popped up on your screen once more, a few months later. You had been in your kitchen, and took the call the moment you recognised the digits. 
“We’re a little ways out of town.” She’d said, “But Lily raved about you for days after last time, and we know you better than a stranger. If you can’t make it out here, don’t worry, but we still wanted to try our luck.”
We she’d said. As in her and Art. 
You cursed yourself for lusting after a married man in the uber to the hotel. 
From then on out, you became their primary babysitter. Since they travelled a lot, and Tashi’s mom was with them most of the time, you only really sat for them once every couple of months. The town you lived in was sunny and had a huge private sports centre for professional athletes — a fact you weren’t aware of until Art told you over a cup of tea — so they always came back. You were glad you could count on them coming back — it was like magic, the way your phone lit up with Tashi’s now saved contact whenever the late night bingeing of matches and interviews stopped fueling your infatuation. 
The guilt was almost enough to make you ignore it, say you were busy or just get a new number all together. But you never did. As much as you knew it was wrong, you always dropped what you were doing and drove to that cushy hotel where the receptionist knew your face and let you in with a smile. You travelled that same memorised route to the master suite, knocked on the door and made sure you were standing far enough away from the peep hole that you didn’t look weird and distorted when Art would look through before letting you in. 
It was always Art now. Tashi had greeted you a few times but lately it had always been him — a sick part of you thought she might’ve known about your crush on him, played with it for fun because she couldn’t play tennis anymore. But that was crazy, and you really needed to sort yourself out. 
You would greet him with a smile, push through the small talk, lean up against the kitchen island and watch his shirt stretch around the planes of his back as he made you coffee (On those unlucky days he would be wearing a shirt. Sometimes he would be just done with warm ups and physio and would answer the door half naked and covered in sweat. Those were the good days). Then Lily would come running at you from her room, hug you around your waist and pull you in to play; Art would laugh and grin at you, sliding the coffee cup in your direction and holding your eyes before heading to his room to get ready. 
You would be knee deep in headless barbies and chewed up polly pocket clothes when he and would return, dressed up and ready to go. He would lean down, kiss Lily on the forehead, and press his hand to your back in a silent goodbye. Then he would leave, and you would spend the whole day trying to pull yourself together. 
He was married. He was ten years older than you. He had a child, and was paying you to look after her. 
But he always made you coffee when you arrived — just how you liked it because he remembered. He always checked in on you, asked you how your life was while you nursed the mug that was warm from the beverage and his hands. He would tell Lily to behave for you because We like her, and we don’t want to scare her off. He would let his land linger on your back half a second longer every single time he left. 
But.
But Tashi was the one who would call you. She was the one who made you coffee the first time, told you it was the least they could do for you. She would walk out of her room with Art, smile at you and tell you how beautiful you look in that shirt. She would grin at you before leaving, waiting patiently by the door for her husband to take his hand off your back. 
You were evil. Truly. The guy was married. 
But as evil as you were, you always made sure there was an old game of his playing on the TV when they would return — because then Art would prompt you to stay and listen to him talk about it. And you would have an excuse to lean up against that island and watch him make tea while Tashi excused herself to bed. Hours would pass before he was checking his watch and hissing out an apology for keeping you so late, and then letting you leave. 
The first couple of times he’d simply make sure you got in your uber safely. Then he started calling cars himself, the same ones that would drive him and his family to and from matches, press events. The same sort of service celebrites used, not their babysitters. You didn’t mind — it was a thrill, listening to him ask the person behind the wheel to make sure you got back safely.
(The bar was under the court at this point, but at least you were aware of that).
But tonight was different. In more ways than one. 
In the beginning, all was the same. You were left sitting on the plush carpet of Lily’s room surrounded by lego pieces, a burning in your gut and guilt in your heart. You played doctor, you made dinner, ordered room service after her relentless begging, put on a movie, carried her sleeping form to bed, came back and watched Art play tennis until he returned. 
You had started to run out of games to watch, ones you hadn’t already seen, so settled for an old game from 2006. He was playing against his old partner, Patrick something, and you wondered where the lesser known second half of Fire and Ice had disappeared to after that night. 
Then Art came back, Tashi right behind him, and you smiled at them both over the back of the sofa. Tashi watched the game, something unfamiliar glinting in her irises, before blinking back at Art, “I’m going to bed.”
He responded a little slower, kissing her goodnight and looking back at you, “Tea? This game was one of my most memorable.”
“Even though you lost?” You teased, leaning against the marble. 
He paused, looking back at you. He blinked, “Yeah.”
You drank your tea. You pretended like you weren’t full of shame for standing that inch closer to him. You let him talk until he had nothing left to talk about, and watched him check his watch. You waited for him to pick up the phone and call the car — only he paused by the phone, hand floating just before it, and retracted his steps to the kitchen, “I’m gonna drive you back, if it’s not too much trouble. Saves waking up my driver.”
“Oh.” Your fingers twitched, and you told them to stop. “Sure, of course.” 
Art’s car wasn’t what you had expected. Thinking back on it, he didn’t seem like the sports car type, but his status and riches led you to assume you were about to get into one of the two seats in his Bugatti — you didn’t. The black jeep was expensive enough for someone like him, but close enough to home that you didn’t feel like an outsider climbing into the passenger seat.  
The drive wasn’t all that far — twenty minutes both ways, so Art would’ve been back before Tashi fell asleep if he hadn't pulled into a parking lot five minutes out. 
Your lips parted, eyes following his hands as they slid slowly off the wheel and into his thighs. His chest rose with a deep breath and his jaw constricted when he swallowed. Then he was looking at you, eyes piercing. 
“Lily likes you.”
You were unsure, feet shifting beneath you, the sound encasing the silence of the space and forcing you to stop and blink, “I’m glad. I like her.” 
“Tashi likes you.” 
You weren’t too positive that she would like you if she could feel how you were feeling now — that all too familiar heartbeat pulsing between your legs with every one of Art’s breaths. 
“I like you.” He finished, tilting his head until his temple rested softly on the headrest of his seat. His smile was almost taunting when he undid his seatbelt, “Which is your favourite?”
“What?”
“The games.” He clarified, knowing his question was too broad and that you would have to ask, “The ones you watch every time you’re over. The ones I assume you watch even when you aren’t sitting for us. My games. Which is your favourite?” 
“Oh. Um —“ Slightly distracted by the way he shed his jacket, dumping it in the backseat. He’d lent all the way forward to take it off and his eyes didn’t leave yours once. “I don’t know.” 
“The one you were watching tonight.” He asked then, “What’d you think of it? Honestly.” 
“Honestly?” You swallowed, mortified that you were even entertaining this, “You looked a little distracted.” 
He huffed a laugh, finally looking away and letting you breathe. It didn’t last long, because he was then getting out of the car and rounding the front of it. 
The breeze was cool when it hit you, Art blocking most of it from where he stood in the gap. His hand was still on the handle, but you were busy unbuckling your own seatbelt — the message had been received, you had crossed a line and he was kicking you out of his car. 
But when you turned, legs swinging carefully into the cold, his hand on your knee stopped you from really getting out. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you realised you had been caged — with one hand on the door and one hand on you, Art Donaldson had you right where you had been dreaming of him having you. It felt surreal. 
“My opponent. In the game from tonight.” He breathed, glancing around casually like you were having one of your simple conversations over tea. “He slept with my wife.”
Out of all the things… 
“What?” Your eyes darted between his, but the rest of your body otherwise remained still. Even when his hand on your knee travelled upwards. 
“He’d slept with her before. In college. We weren’t together then.” He was now watching his hand move, like he wasn’t the one moving it, “But then he slept with her again, in Atlanta. After I’d already married her.”
“Wow.” You breathed, mainly because it was the easiest word you could slide out of your mouth whilst holding your breath. His fingers reached your thigh, begged to dip between them. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He was quick to respond. Your legs parted on instinct, and at this point you had surrendered to being an awful person — although maybe you’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream. You didn’t think you’d be able to face Art if it was. You couldn’t even face him now. 
He took the newfound space for granted, stepping between your legs and holding them open with his body. His hand on the door followed him, taking its new place on your other leg. He rubbed up and down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from his face. 
“I don’t want you watching him play.” He spoke lowly, tracing his fingertips around your waistband, “I’ve seen enough of his games.”
“Okay.” You didn’t hesitate to let out, swallowing the hungered saliva that had built up in your mouth. 
He unbuttoned your jeans, pulled the zipper down — painstakingly slow, but it allowed you time to brace your hands on the seat and the dashboard so you could raise your hips and let him slide them off you. 
You were stuck in your head, but Art didn’t seem to notice since he was too busy folding your jeans and hanging them over the open car door. You dared question it through a heavy breath but he just moved on to your panties, throwing them precariously on the dashboard and exposing your glittering cunt to his bright eyes. 
“We shouldn’t —“ It was a half-assed attempt at reconciling with your guilt, but the fact that you were half naked and spread eagle made it lose its meaning. 
Art shushed you, kneeling down so he was looking at your pussy, “We can, and we will.” Then he glanced back at you, brow arched, “Unless you don’t want to.”
Any sense of rationale had fucked off when he put his hand on your leg, so you swallowed and said, “I want to.”
He wasted no time, licking a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit. You knocked your head back with a gasped moan, bucking into him and hissing when the gear stick poked you in the back when you led back too far. 
You let out a shaky breath as he lapped you up, tongue dipping inside of you before travelling up to that sweet spot and sucking at it gently. You gasped and moaned, hands scrambling between holding yourself up and holding him down. His own were resting on your thighs — his calm and collected demeanour was a drastic contradiction from your own. 
His head nodded calmly between your legs, relaxed in its position — yours, shaky and tense all at once, neck bracing whenever you fell back. His hands tapped soft melodies on your skin whereas yours tightened around whatever was in their old, whether that be the leather of the seats or the blonde of Art’s hair. 
When he finally came up for air, his chin was coated in your slick, and he licked his lips clean before straightening up above you. You watched, paralysed, while he unbuckled his belt, threw it over the door with your jeans, and sent you a look under his lashes that you’d only seen him wear during his tennis matches. 
You had been keeping quiet earlier, but when he bottomed out inside you and started to piston, your mind went wild. Choruses of Oh my God and Fuck!, shouts of Art’s name and whimpers under your breath — it all came tumbling out and you couldn’t even try and stop it. 
Not that you wanted to; your vocality seemed to make him go faster, harder. It made him vocal, no longer calm and relaxed as he had been when eating you out, but loud and gruff. Grunts and moans you had dreamt about hearing outside of a television screen, now being huffed into the air you shared. 
You came with a whine and Art followed not long after, and you settled there for a moment — legs spread in his passenger seat with him standing between them — until you could muster up the strength to push yourself up. 
Five minutes later and you were both dressed, Art’s black jeep parked outside of your apartment building. You hadn’t exchanged any more words, but when you turned to slam the door once you had jumped out, you found his eyes on yours. 
“I have a game this weekend. Two hours out. Tashi wanted you to come. A gift, for all you’ve done for us.” 
(You went to the game. Art won. Tashi grinned like she’d made it happen and then offered to buy you a drink).
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divider by @cafekitsune !!
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ragingbookdragon · 4 months
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He stared at her from his desk as she sat on his bed, playing a game on her phone; the screen occasionally flashed different colors across her face as she went back and forth between texting her friends, most likely Gaz and Soap, and her game. At one point, she shifted, laying flat on her stomach, her elbows pressed into the bed as she played, then she pushed her arms across his pillow and propped her chin on the cushion.
The show of comfort from her had a spur of irritation licking its way from his gut to his throat and before he could tell his mouth to shut the hell up, “I fucking hate it when you’re in my room,” came out.
Her eyes immediately met his, expression startled, starting to twist into hurt as she absorbed and processed what he had said to her. A pathetic and hurt, “What?” was all that managed to come out of her mouth and Ghost knew better than to say more, but even damage control wasn’t at the forefront of his mind, and since he’d already opened the door, he may as well walk through it.
He let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand down his face. “You’re always in my room. My room. Why are you always here?” he was a smart man; he knew how to articulate himself. “My room is the one place I go to get away from everything and everyone and somehow you’re always here. You never leave me alone.” He didn’t really mean to be as scathing as he was, but all the overwhelmingness of her finally came to a head. “Everywhere I go, you’re always there, stuck to me like fucking glue, and it’s ‘Lieutenant this,’ and Lieutenant that.’ Why can’t you just quit being so fucking clingy?” Ghost pinched his brow and heaved out another sigh, rubbing his eyes before he pulled his hand away and looked at her.
And he knew, just with one look, that he had fucked up more than he could ever think of trying to repair.
Her lips wobbled as she kept trying to purse them to keep herself from crying, but it wasn’t doing much as the tears were already tipping over the edge of her eyes and down her cheeks.
Ghost had never seen her cry before.
He realized how much he fucking hated seeing it.
Her eyes left his and he watched as a deadness replaced them, though the distraught was still evident as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Riley.” And clambered to her feet, dazedly sliding off his bed and heading for his door.
His mouth was open before he knew it, “Private, I didn’t—"
“I won’t bother you again unless it’s for work, I promise,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was being a bother, sir.”
He hated being called “sir” by anyone.
“Private, wait, I—”
“I just thought we were friends,” she whispered more to herself than to him, and shut the door behind her.
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saetoru · 1 year
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imagine rich boy gojo finding out your name for him in his phone is just “satoru” or something 💀 and then from the side geto is like “mine’s got an emoji!”
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。NO HEART — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
rich boy! gojo, college au, fluff, established relationships, dramatic gojo which is consistent in every version of him no matter the au
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studying with gojo satoru is the worst idea you could ever allow to happen—and yet, every time he asks, you let it happen.
“baby, aren’t you getting my texts?” gojo pouts. it earns him an unimpressed glare from you as you look up from your textbook, a glare that makes him wilt while geto snickers from the corner.
“satoru, if you don’t stop bothering me while we’re supposed to be studying, so help me—”
“but it’s funny, look,” he whines. and before you can stop him, he picks up the untouched phone beside you, tapping the screen to unlock it. except, he doesn’t make it that far.
suddenly the world stills. it stops spinning on its axis. and suddenly, gojo satoru’s face is the dictionary definition of devastation.
“satoru, what’s wrong,” you furrow your brows.
“satoru. satoru? satoru?” he repeats, each time in more disbelief than the last.
“that’s….your name, yes?” you raise a brow. and then realization strikes your features—or so he thinks. he’s soon to find out he’s mistaken. “oh, sorry,” you snort, “toru, is that better? toru, get to studying—”
“my name in your phone is just satoru?” he asks, cutting you off like you’ve genuinely wounded him—the betrayal on his face and the shock in his voice are all too real.
you blink for a moment before you realize the source of his tantrum seems to be the contact name you have for him in your phone. only gojo satoru would find a way to make a big deal out of his own name, you think.
“well, yeah,” you shrug, “it’s your name. plus i had it set when i first got your number from that project. i hated you back then.”
“you called me gojo back then,” he squints accusingly.
“yeah that’s because it was gojo satoru at first,” you nod. from the side, you hear geto snicker again about the full government name to himself—which earns him a pillow thrown at his direction by gojo. “i deleted the gojo part when we started dating,” you add.
“oh so you can delete my surname once we started dating but you couldn’t even add a heart?” he asks, jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed in that dramatic way he does. it’s a bit cute, the way he’s worked up over something so small—but it’s also entirely theatric, making you roll your eyes.
“would a heart make you feel better, satoru?” you purse your lips.
“no! not if you don’t add it because you want to,” he huffs, “you might as well just say you don’t love me!”
“satoru,” you sigh in exasperation. maybe if you didn’t have physics 1302 problems to work through—a whole six of them due before midnight, in fact—you would humor him in his elaborately dramatized attempt at getting your attention. but you have classes to pass and gpa’s to maintain, so you purse your lips instead. “it’s just a contact name. what’s mine?”
“it’s baby <3. with a heart. see?” sure enough, when his phone is turned to face you, it’s baby <3. with a heart.
“i have an emoji in my contact,” geto adds from the side, ever the instigator, “maybe it’s because i’m cuter—”
“you gave suguru’s an emoji?” he asks in distress, staring at you like you’ve told him you’ve cheated. you think you might hurt his feelings less if you did, with the way his lips are curled in a genuine frown.
“suguru set his own contact,” you defend, shooting the nuisance in the corner a sharp glare. geto only offers you a sly wink in return. “i didn’t realize you cared that much about contact names,” you shrug, “i can change it—”
“no need,” gojo huffs, holding up a hand to silence you as he turns away and sticks his nose in the air in defiance. “i’ll just change yours to your full government name. see how you like it.”
“satoru—”
“and you’re not getting a heart either,” he glares, deleting the <3 slowly just for show, making eye contact with you so you know the severity of your actions.
you roll your eyes, snatching your phone back as you shake your head. “if i make your contact baby <3 with a heart because you’re my baby, will that cheer you up,” you sigh.
he ponders it for a moment, as if debating the offer. and then his arms cross in defiance once more. “no. make it baby boy 💋 with a kiss emoji.”
“gross,” geto twists his face in disgust.
gojo turns to him, face blank and serious as he shoots, “single people should not speak when it’s not their turn,” before turning back to you. “i’ll consider forgiving you if you make it baby boy 💋 with a kiss.”
“okay,” you sigh, “baby boy it is.”
“with a kiss!” he glares.
“with a kiss,” you assure, rolling your eyes.
“can i also get a kiss?” he asks hopefully, eyes wide and bright and earnest enough to warm your heart.
you smile, chuckling at the way he looks so cute, at the way he melts your heart and makes you forget you have physics homework for a moment—but only for a moment because then you mumble, “no. now do your homework.”
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PLS THIS PROMPT KILLED ME
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