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sweetteainthesummerx · 3 months

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it's nice to have a friend !

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairings: jack hughes x shy!reader, jack hughes x bsf!reader, nico hischier x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

warnings: mutual pining, fluff

summary: you gain a best friend and a lover, all in one !

song: it's nice to have a friend by taylor swift

word count: 3.3 k

notes: I love me a reformed bad boy! this is based on this request: here. I hope you like it!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

school bell rings, walk me home, sidewalk chalk covered in snow, lost my gloves, you give me one

"are you okay, miss?" a voice asks from behind you, and you jump.

it's a boy. he's real pretty, features the perfect balance between masculine built and delicate feminine.

you're so sure that you're fifty shades of red right now, but he smiles kindly at you.

"sorry, it's just you look really cold." he points at your hands, and the fact that your teeth are chattering.

you realize that you're still silent.

you hate that you're so painfully shy. it's especially hard after you moved from your hometown for work, where the little amount of friends had to bid you goodbye with worry.

sure, you talk to your coworkers, but it's not the same.

"I-i'm okay." you try to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

jack, you find out his name is, was raised by his mother to never leave a lady in distress (you almost laugh at that). he offers you his gloves, still warm from his own hands. you thank him quietly, and he grins wide, "you're welcome, sweetheart."

the sidewalk is still covered in snow, but he walks you back to your apartment building, where the two of you find out something else you have in common: you're practically neighbours.

he lives only 4 or 5 doors down from you.

he drops you off, brushing your fingers with his own bigger ones as he tells you to come find him if you need anything at all.

as he watches you enter the safety and warmth of your own apartment, he frowns.

why would he do that? normally he wouldn't care about this kind of stuff, but you looked so cold and down.

so when you offered him that sweet, shy smile, he melts despite the cold jersey weather.

it's weird, because you're very pretty, but he doesn't have the itch to fuck you and leave you.

he wants to know why you're here, what you do, you're favourite colour.

his phone dings with the notification of some instagram model he met up with a week ago. he sighs, turning back from his own door to go meet her.

for some reason, he doesn't want to go.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

"wanna hang out?", yeah, sounds like fun, video games, you pass me a note

you bite your lip, and retract your hand once more. you want to knock, but you...

just do it! you tell yourself, and you knock quickly, wincing.

a boy who is decidedly not jack answers the door.

"uh, hi?" he's tall, with curly hair and a lanky body.

you freeze up a little.

fortunately, jack pops up from behind.

he calls your name, with excitement and surprise. it makes something warm bloom in your chest.

"I brought you guys cookies?" it comes out more like a question, "I brought you guys cookies, because you walked me home last week."

normally, luke would be teasing his older brother - and the fact he was cheesing like an idiot still - but he smells the cookies first.

to your surprise, the younger boy grabs you by the wrist to drag you into the apartment, thanking you for the baked goods.

he offers you a hug, introducing himself.

you're a bit unnerved, but he's so cute, like a little puppy that you hug him back, patting his shoulder while stifling a smile. he reminds you a bit of your own little brother.

jack pouts. no way luke got a hug before him. so he sidles up to you, tucking you under his arm.

"wanna hang out with us? we're playing video games."

you don't know much, but you do know you like how he's looking at you, all soft brown eyes and crooked smile.

so you tuck yourself into the couch.

you find out a lot about both of them: they're brothers who play for the same nhl team - impressive - they can finish a whole batch of cookies in 20 minutes, and they have lots of friends.

people start popping up into the apartment, nico, johnny and so many more large, kind boys who hug you in greeting.

you almost don't mind, especially when jack texts you from across the room.

he's watching you from the kitchen where you're speaking in choppy german to nico. he's worried, because the first time he met you, you were so shy and shaking in your boots.

you all good? I can walk you home if the boys are tiring you out

you look up, a small grin on your face as you shake your head at him.

you look so at home on his couch with his friends, that something blind and unfamiliar stirs in his stomach. he ignores an incoming text from the instagram model he met up with, in favour to watch nico explain german grammar to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

light pink sky up on the roof, sun sinks down, no curfew, twenty questions, we tell the truth

jack thinks you're an angel. he'd come back to the apartment after a really hard game, battered and bruised. you show up to his door like you have been for a while, sometimes when it's just the two of you, sometimes when many of the boys are there.

this time, you're holding a bag in your hands. he sighs as he opens the door, falling into your arms.

"oh-! jack, you're too heavy!" you exclaim, trying to hold his weight. he pouts, leading you to the couch. he pushes you down gently, and you let him.

he snuggles up to you, head cradled by your chest.

he waits for you to coo and fuss over him, because you're just so kind and he finds this unprecedented comfort in you.

you feel like home, despite only knowing him for a few months.

"you okay?" you ask, and he pushes his head into your hands. you smile, getting the message.

you finally scratch his head, and he practically purrs. he settles into you, full weight like a thick blanket as you push through his hair with your nails.

"there you go," you murmur, quiet and loving. he thinks you'd be a good mom someday, and his heart twists when he thinks of you with someone else, making a home.

"can you scratch my back?" he knows he's being whiny, but you brush your thumb over his cheek and nod.

you're about to slip your hand under his shirt, but he sits up, tugging it over his head and returning to you like he always seems to do these days.

he slides his arms under your back, rubbing his head to your stomach.

you flush red, something unfamiliar spiking through your blood. he's all thick, soft muscles, unlike the vanity ones you see on some guys. raw, simple strength to take the hits and deliver them in his sport.

he's so handsome.

you scratch your nails down his back and he shivers.

"cold?" you hum, but he shakes his head.

after a while, he lets you get up because your legs are numb.

"you're too heavy," you grin again, and he complains that you're calling him fat.

he's ridiculous, with his abs under soft skin and big biceps. he still hasn't put his shirt back on.

"so, what's in the bag?" he asks, and you brighten up.

you dump it out on to the couch: it's face masks, eye masks and skin care.

"I like to relax with this, so I thought maybe you would like it?" you ask shyly, "we don't have to-"

"no!" jack exclaims, throwing everything into the bag and standing, "I want to. see what the hype is about."

he's seen the cute couple pictures online with the girl doing the guy's skincare; something about you suggesting it makes his feel ten feet tall.

so that's how he ends up with you on his bathroom counter, himself between your legs as you rub shaving cream onto his face.

"you better not slice me up," he pokes your tummy, and you giggle.

"don't worry, jackpot," you use his nickname, "cant' have the fans mourning your pretty face."

you carefully shave off his stubble, eyes concentrated.

you're so close, and you smell you, and you're so careful with him he wants to kiss you and give you his heart.

you hold his hair back as he washes his face. the act is so intimate, and the whole scene is so domestic that it makes him homesick for something he's never had.

"okay, so I'll put the eye masks on you first, then the clay one."

it's actually pretty relaxing, he has to admit. the eye masks are cool, and the clay mask is a little tight, but he likes to see you smooth it onto your own face, matching his.

he takes his phone, and you slide under his arm, linking yours around his waist.

the both of you smile wide for the mirror selfie, and he makes it his lock screen.

after both of you wash the masks from you - admittedly smoother - skin, he orders a pizza, and you make your way up to the roof.

the light pollution is too bad and he knows that the stars won't be visible, but the pink-inked sky is pretty as your smile.

the two of you talk about everything and nothing: some trick he managed to pull during practice, your co-workers pending divorce, something funny his mom said.

he wishes he could stay here forever, with you.

you, with your soft hair and smile, his too-big hoodie over your shoulders as you lean on him.

he likes seeing you all sleepy and vulnerable, answering his questions quietly.

"do you want a boyfriend?" he asks as the sun goes to bed.

"of course I do," you murmur, "but I just want the right person, at the right time."

he smiles at that. he wants to be that person for you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you've been stressed out lately? yeah, me too, something gave you the nerve, to touch my hand

"oh, shit." you swear softly, and sophie, your co-worker turned best friend - don't let jack hear that - apologizes.

"sorry! sorry! don't move, bro!" she rubs where the curling iron touched the back of your neck.

"that's gonna leave a mark. I'm sorry, sweetie." she fusses, and you tell her it's okay.

luke and jack are having a party for new years at their place, so you and sophie take that chance to dress up for once.

your makeup is done, so is your hair. you have to admit, sophie's done a real good job.

"yeah, dude. we look hot."

you're wearing a pretty red dress, with thin straps and material that clung to your body.

you were unsure, but Sophie hyped you up enough for you to put it on, and you felt really confident.

except you were a little scared at how short it was.

"hey, girl!" luke exclaimed when you entered their apartment. "you look great. hey, soph!"

he handed you both a drink, scurrying off to greet someone else.

the two of you link hands, trying and laughing while bulldozing through the crowd to get to the living room.

some guy catches soph's eye, and you encourage her to go off and talk to him.

nico finds you, being pushed around by the throng of people, and tucks you under his arm like your a football.

you giggle a little as he manages to navigate the way. jack's sitting on one of the arm chairs, and his eyes brighten when he sees you.

"special delivery!" nico pats your head like he would to his little sister, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

the only thing between you is many half-drunk hockey players and drinks on the ground. nico is about to pick you up like a cat, but jack hops his way over, swatting his hands.

"I got it, precious cargo, after all." he slips one hand under your thighs, and another arm wrapped round your waist so you're pressed against his vertically.

you cling to his neck as he makes his way back to his seat, turning you in his arms to fit you onto his lap.

"you look..." he breathes into your ear, "you look gorgeous, baby."

"thanks, jack."

the night continues like normal, until between the sheer amount of people in the apartment and jack's chest pressed against you is making you over heat. as you laugh at one of johnny's jokes you sweep your hair over your shoulder to let your neck breathe.

you feel jack tense beneath you, and he lifts you to stand.

"I-i need a drink," his eyes are panicked and shaky. he bolts, and you stand to go after him. nico and Luke call after you, concerned.

you find him on the roof, leaning over the banister, shoulders shaking.

"jack, honey?" you ask, slipping a hand between his shoulder blades, "do you feel sick?"

the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin, even more so when he turns to you, teeth grit.

"no, m'fine. go back to the party."

"not until you tell me-"

"why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?" he blurts out, refusing to look at you.

"huh?" you ask.

"why didn't you tell me? I thought we told each other everything."

"what are you-"

"you don't need to pretend. I know-" he shudders, like it's painful for him to say this, "I know you're..."

"jack-" you start, but he grabs your hands, new determination in his eyes as he draws you close.

"you should know that I'm in love with you. so you have options, baby." his lip is quivering, and his eyes are rimmed with red.

"I-"

"I could treat you better than he could. and I wouldn't hide it, either. we would be so good together..." he's rubbing the length of your arms now, trying to warm you up.

"we already work so well together. we're best friends and you make me laugh so much. you make me feel safe and tethered."

he continues, "and...jeez, baby, you're fucking gorgeous. I just want to press you against a wall and..." he's talking low and heavy in your ear, and you lean closer to him.

"please, just consider me. I wouldn't just leave a hickey on your neck behind your ear and not celebrate new years with you."

"what?" you asked, surprised, "no, that's not a hickey. sophie burnt my neck while curling my hair."

jack colours a brilliant shade of fire work red.

he just got all in his head, seeing you dolled up and loose, that when he saw the mouth sized mark on the smooth nape of your neck, his only thought was: that should've been me.

"fuck."

you've got a teasing smile on your face now, "you loooove me!"

"I am a dumbass."

"a dumbass who loves me." you grin, cupping his neck, smoothing circles over the skin there.

"my offer still stands," he tells you, winding his arms around your waist.

"yes. I love you too, you idiot." the people throughout the apartment building are starting to chant.

3, 2, 1, happy new years!

"happy new years, baby." he says, and he presses his lips softly, and sweetly to yours.

he's so delicate, trying to make sure everything is perfect.

and it is, because he's with you, with the promise of more forever.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

church bells ring, carry me home, rice on the ground looks like snow

"yeah, mom. I know, I've been eating good. my girl's taking care of me."

you hear jack's voice from where you're measuring rice in the pantry. he definitely thinks that the pantry doors are thicker than they are.

you smile, because he takes such good care of you too: he washes your hair in the shower, he carries and stocks your groceries, he always makes sure you're fed and warm when you're too stressed.

and he takes care of you in other ways that makes you warm and all liquidy.

"I'm gonna make her my wife, mom. she's...she's the one. yes, I'll bring her to the lake house for the summer, but I'll have to ask first. okay. bye. love you too."

by that time you've made it out of the room, closer to him. when he says wife, you drop the whole bowl of rice you were holding.

"did you hear that?" jack's ears are pink, but he's got a cheesy smile on his face.

"yeah. you have a really loud voice, honey."

"call me that again." he asks, as you come to stand between his legs as he sits on the barstool of the kitchen counter.

"loud voice," you tease.

he laughs, and when the two of you quiet down, he rests his head on your shoulder.

"I mean it, y'know."

"we've been only dating for like a month," you protest weakly.

"and I can't wait to see you walk down the aisle to me."

"will you cry?"

"no," he lies, even though he's getting a little teary just thinking about it.

"hmm." you kiss him anyways, and Luke finds you there 10 minutes later, still wrapped up together with rice all over the floor.

"you guys are weirdos." he rolls his eyes, making a face as jack kisses your lips again.

"watch it, mister. you're talking to your future sister in law." you joke, and luke jumps, reaching for your hand.

"dude, were you fucking with me?" he whines, "I got all excited too."

jack hollers something insulting his intelligence as you laugh, watching the two boys.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

feels like home, stay in bed, the whole weekend, it's nice to have a friend

jack kisses your forehead as he hands you a plate of food. you bite his cheek as he shrieks.

you laugh, sitting up so he can see his shirt that's practically falling off of your frame.

you and jack had a slow morning, the sun streaming over your naked bodies as you simply enjoyed each other's presence. around noon, he finally got up to shower.

you refused to join him because "no, the two of us showering together would not save water, it would probably waste more."

so he showered, sad and alone, and made breakfast after you went to clean yourself off.

now, watching you eat toast and watch his past game highlights from last weekend, he knows.

he knows it's going to be you, no matter what.

he knows it's you he wants to grow old with, and have three kids - two boys, one girl, he has the names all planned out - and that picket fence shit.

he knows it's you who'll take care of him with your soft hands and heart at the end of the day, and you'll be the one he'll protect and provide for too.

he knows that he loves you like the back of his hand.

and he knows you're his best friend, the love of his life.

so he knows that he wants to make you his wife.

he leans over to his bedside drawer and pulls out a box.

he got it the weekend after the two of you got together, and he's shaking as you turn to him with wide eyes.

"I love you. you're...you're it for me, baby. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I promise to keep you safe and warm and always finish your plate when you're full," he knows you too well, because your left overs are already on his plate, "and I just want all of you. will you marry me?"

"yes," you breathe, tackling him into the bed with a delighted whoop.

there's no other words to describe it, it's so nice to have you.

it's so nice to have you forever, now.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

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blood-orange-juice · 7 months

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Inspired by a discord discussion.

I keep seeing characters from snowy places portrayed as unbothered by cold or missing it, and every time I remember that it's completely counterintutive if you didn't grow up in freezing temperatures

So I thought I should write this post.

We are very bothered by cold. We are way more bothered by cold than southerners. Being bothered is what keeps you safe. Warmth is a resource.

There are few lucky people who simply never get cold (mostly guys of endomorph body type) but it's not a given and generally northerners start to complain and wear warm coats at the tiniest hint of cold.

Humans can only adjust up to a certain threshold.

For example, Irish and British winters allow you to ignore weather almost completely (you'll be miserable but you'll probably live), so there's a culture of stoicism, not heating your house above 16-18°C (60-65°F), wearing shorts and sandals (and a Very Big Scarf) when it's snowing and all that.

(I quickly got used to leaving the bathroom window open at 4°C when I was living there. who cares really)

So there's a common misconception that you can do the same with even colder weather.

However, once you are past that adjustment threshold (for most people it takes as little as -5..0°C/23..32°F lasting for more than a month per year) there can be no special built-in resistance to that type of cold (unless you are a yogi or a Taoist monk), instead you learn a bunch of behaviours that help you. You start to preserve warmth religiously.

You also start to differentiate between types of being cold and avoid some of them (some build up over time and it wears you down, so it's best to avoid them entirely). Anything that drops your core temperature (this is noticeable long before you start shivering, shivering is the equivalent of fire alarm) is a huge no. Fingers getting a bit numb from building a snow castle is nothing major though.

It can be hard to unlearn that even if you moved to a warmer place years ago.

Stoic northern characters who have moved to a warmer country are very likely to Complain About The Cold.

They'll start wearing coats at higher temperatures than southerners (because, well, the weather might get worse, or you might stay outside longer than you planned, or move less).

They'll get cold hands more often because their body panics at the tiniest signs of cold and diverts blood to the centre (my first impression of the Irish was how warm everyone was when we shook hands. I'm the same now).

Most will heat their houses to the point where it's possible to walk around in a t-shirt no matter how cold it is outside (those who don't will comment "thank gods that people don't do that in your country, I hated it back home").

They'll whine at +5°C (40°F).

Apart from heavier clothes they'll have a bunch of weird habits like Walking Really Fast when the weather is bad (it's for when you don't want to wear heavier clothes).

They might have a fondness for scarves and good winter shoes (warm shoes and a warm hat are even more important than a warm coat. the lack of hats in fantasy upsets me. scarves are less important but they are pretty).

When locals get surprised they'll reply with "yes, but this is *damp* cold, *dry* cold is different" (it's more complicated than that but this answer usually stops further questions, so we go with that).

It's not like they are actually less cold-resistant, they just take cold more seriously.

At the same time they can be weirdly unbothered by things that freak some of the southerners out because they know how their body deals with low temperatures and which things have no consequences.

(it's not something that you learn from books, it's practical knowledge of what you personally can get away with. for example, I often get completely numb thighs during winter walks, takes an hour to start feeling anything when I get home. but I know it's all right as long as my feet are warm and my core temperature is within normal range)

They also won't suffer consequences when it gets truly cold, while more nonchalant southerners won't notice when they get borderline hypothermic or just cold enough to get sick.

They'll probably consider -30°C (-22°F) exciting. It becomes enjoyable again, because the outside world is now a death zone and there's some macabre fun in resisting it. Oh, and your eyelashes get covered in frost and it looks dope. What's not to like.

Kids will make a point to eat ice cream outside in -30°C (no, they won't get sick from it). I can't explain it, it just works like that.

Generally people from colder countries are not bothered by cold if they can return to a warm place soon enough, it's the prolonged exposure to cold (even mild) they are worried about. Going out for a smoke without a coat is common.

If they are still in a cold country, it's also a bit different from what you expect.

There's a trope of drinking to keep warm. It doesn't work like that. You can drink alcohol to feel warm but not to keep warm and it's an important difference. When it's cold your body's proper response is to constrict blood vessels and to divert blood flow from extremeties to slow down the loss of warmth. Alcohol reverts that.

This means it's perfectly appropriate to drink eggnog or mulled wine at a fair (when you are supposed to get to warmth soon enough, so the illusion of not being cold is not harmful) or hard spirits when you get back from the cold (it will help you warm up faster), but not if you are staying in a cold place. During a hike through winter woods a thermos with sweetened tea and fatty food are your best friends.

Some won't know it and get drunk and frostbitten/hypothermic. People are stupid.

Food gets weird, fats start to seem even tastier than usual. People in Antarctic expeditions are known to crave sticks of butter. In certain weather sandwiches with frozen lard are delicious.

Anything can and will be made into tea.

Some tropes I personally disagree with.

Pain. Pain levels depend on the weather. Cold eases any kind of external pain (cuts or burns) but makes worse anything internal (broken bones, cramps, most headaches).

Hypothermia feels nothing like peacefully falling asleep. It's the most miserable state I've ever experienced, psychological trauma doesn't even come close.

Well, maybe there are people who do fall asleep but other people I've talked to seem to share my experience.

I'm not sure how exactly it works, I think it messes up your self-regulation, since most chemicals in your body require a certain temperature range to work properly. Basically you become Not Yourself. Your emotions go whack (usually it's either extreme self-pity or extreme anger). It feels awful. I hope you never get to experience it.

Most of us don't really miss cold.

Well, some perverts do, but there's a general consensus that cold is awful.

We do miss some things that only happen during cold days though. The stillness and the quiet or how pretty snow looks. How bright the stars are on a clear night. The colour of sunsets and twilight sky when it's freezing.

(in my opinion, the best experience happens around -5°C, it's already pretty but the world is not a death zone yet)

There's also an appreciation of contrast with things that are Not Snow.

Walking from the cold into a greenhouse with orchids.

Watching a blizzard rage outside your window while you sit in warmth with a cup of tea.

Jumping into a lake straight out of a sauna (then going back. do not do that if you have a heart condition).

Fireplaces. Holiday food. Mulled wine. Saffron in pastry.

There's also a lot of beauty in the world that is frozen. I keep stumbling upon the fact no one around me shares these experiences anymore and it saddens me.

The xylophone sound of first ice being broken by a passing boat.

Sea moving under the ice — when it's not too thick it rises and falls like some large animal breathing.

The whale-song-like sounds of ice cracking on large lakes.

There's a very special mood of waiting for first snow. The world is too cold and dark without it and then you wake up one night from the sudden quietness (snow muffles all sounds) and you know it's there even before you look out of the window,

There's the exhiliration of spring. The moment when the wind starts to have a scent — thawing snow smells a bit like watermelons but clearer. Winter smells like nothing at all.

The first tiny yellow flowers in mud. They are our hanami.

(I don't think anyone in Europe truly appreciates spring if they are not from Nordic or Baltic countries)

There's a certain attunement to the scent of ice too.

Like that barely perceptible tingle in the air in late September, long before you can see any ice.

I feel the scent of ice when there's wind from the right part of the Atlantic. No one ever notices but it's there. I love it.

It's nostalgic in a way.

But it's never missing the cold itself for me. For very few people it is, I think.

This is, of course, personal perspective and my experience is not universal. I'm a person from continental climate with harsh winters and hot summers and a city dweller with occasional visit to country houses and a tiny bit of mountaineering experience.

An indigenous person from a place with barely any summer or a character from a fantasy everwinter country will probably differ from me.

There are, after all, simply people who genuinely love cold. A lot of them. It is, however, not the default northerner's experience.

But hey, it's still more complex than it's usually written.

If you want to read something focused on winter descriptions, there's Smilla's Sense of Snow by Peter Høeg.

It's hauntingly beautiful prose and the main character is from Greenland.

‘It’s freezing, an extraordinary -18 °C, and it’s snowing, and in the language which is no longer mine, the snow is qanik – big, almost weightless crystals falling in stacks and covering the ground with a layer of pulverized white frost.’

And then there's Moominland Midwinter. I think it gets better when you read it as an adult and it's probably still the best thing I have ever read about winter solstice.

Anyway.

I think we need more good winter stories.

#'the centre of the universe is always warm' says one of our poets #and I still live by that #writing #snow

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idontknowreallyidontcare · 10 months

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Silly Husband!König decided to give it a try to one of Soap’s girlfriend’s ideas. Out with the boys for a beer, he let it slip that in some weeks you’d celebrate your first anniversary and he’s just scared of not being able to make you live a night full of passion, he’s getting a bit old after all.

Some of the girlfriends were trying to give him lots of advice, “don’t watch porn, don’t masturbate, don’t be overly sexual because you might not be able to get it up”, Soap’s girlfriend casually mentions just taking some aphrodisiacs and calling it a night (better if taken some hours before the act, so sexual tension can be built up). Soap ends up telling König how it actually works and how his girlfriend never had a complaint while they used them, just make sure not to exaggerate with the dose/the amount of times you use it.

Husband!König returning home to you, finding your precious self asleep on the couch as his heart starts pounding and blood rushing, he just loves you so much, he will not risk anything to ruin the day of your anniversary. He brings you to your shared bed and gently tucks you in, kissing your temple as he gets out the room, closing the door slowly so he doesn’t wake you up.

Husband!König that spends the night on the computer and researches the topic of aphrodisiacs, writing down every pro and con he finds. He goes thru a list of the safest ones to buy and chooses the absolute best one, paying a good amount of money for it, but it’s all for his sweet lady upstairs, he would pay millions just to make sure she’s safe.

Husband!König that receives his package and runs to hide it asap, so you don’t see or suspect anything. Your anniversary it’s in a week, he can’t risk to ruin the whole surprise. The bottle it’s actually small, or maybe his hands are too big (umm.. DUH?), but he reads the instructions very well, aside from trying to remember what the website he bought this thing from said. A maximum of 2 drops mixed with anything, or just plopped in the mouth and swallowed, if taken more, there was not really any risk, the state of the aphrodisiac would just last longer, but don’t go over 5 drops, it’ll be painful to deal with the effects for DAYS!

Husband!König is getting ready for your dinner, being finally the day of your anniversary, and as you’re still stuck on your make up, he prepares two glasses of champagne for you two to drink before going. Of course he has a reason to, he squeezes, well he tries to, some drops of the aphrodisiac. He’s careful to remember not to go above 5 drops, and decides to be precautious, he’s squeezing in 2 for you, you’re a young lady, your stamina still pretty high, while he gives himself double, 4 drops hoping he didn’t fuck up, still, he’ll think later about consequences. He brings the glasses upstairs to you, and you both drink, you thank him and notice how he is not able to keep his hands off you already. You have to drag him outside the house, or you’re risking your dress ripped off and your makeup destroyed, but it’s still too early for that!!

Husband!König that’s being tasted for the whole duration of the dinner, you caress his hands, your foot seductively touching his leg, running up and down his calf, your eyes focusing on his face and never breaking eye contact, your lips, your voice, everything about you is so sexy and seductive, and he can’t wait to just bring you home and give you a proper fuck, one you’ll never forget, and not because it’s your first anniversary together, but because he really plans to fuck you good, worship you but still get you all dirty and messed up for him. He’s a man of thought, he bought condoms, he has lube, even bought one that tastes like strawberry, he’ll pour it on your pussy and enjoy himself between your legs for a good amount of time. He has cuffs, ropes, toys that you would already regularly use, but tonight he wants to push you to the limits, he’ll probably stick his cock inside your pussy while he fucks your ass with a dildo, he’ll make sure to torture your clit with a vibrator while he fucks your ass, and play with your tits, maybe even sticking his cock between them too! Night’s young and he has a lot of plans, he can tell that his magic drops are working on you also, not just on him, because the moment you both leave the restaurant you’re leeched onto him, grabbing, touching, tracing his body and hungrily kissing his lips when he allows you to. He’s a taste, he’s not lowering himself on purpose just to hear you beg and whine about wanting his lips.

Husband!König who stands on his title as a silly man, because he might be actually good with technology, but why would he not delete the chrome history on a computer he knew very well you were using too. Maybe it was a slip, maybe he really didn’t think that his searches would pop up on the search bar the moment you typed an ‘A’ onto the keyboard, eager to look for ‘Austrian foods’ to make for him, just to have ‘Aphrodisiacs for couples, pros and cons’ pop up as a recent search. Needless to say, you left it be, your silly husband was onto something and you were really exited to see how it would all play out. You knew the moment he brought you the glass of champagne, you knew what he had put inside, and you still drank all of it. Careful not to spill a drop. The night was long ahead, you knew, but were more than happy about it. Feeling your panties already sticking to your folds while in the car was an indicator that the aphrodisiac was indeed in your champagne, and it was working its magic already! Of course he wanted you to suffer a bit by giving it to you before dinner, but he mostly wanted to edge himself, force himself to have you all wet and ready for him the whole time you were at the restaurant, having to wait till back home to have you in every place and position he wanted.

#cod x reader #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader smut #husband König

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kurikive · 2 months

Text

MINECRAFT — 12. newjeans killed me in minecraft

▶️ play !

The video starts with Y/N jumping into the frame of the main camera, five figures slowly emerge from the row of monitors behind her with barely audible giggles.

“TODAY! We’re playing Minecraft.” The girl turns to look at the left right camera, “And by ‘we’, I mean me and some special guests.” Y/N steps out of frame and the five figures, who had their backs facing the camera, turn to show themselves with a very unsynchronized jump.

“Hello! We’re NewJeans!” They yell in-between laughter. A close up of Y/N laughing from the left camera shows up on screen.

“I heard you guys are good at Minecraft.” Y/N comments, making the five girls look at her, followed by a couple of ‘Yes!’es.

“I’m just okay!” Danielle says out of the blue, which makes Y/N and a couple of other member laugh loudly.

“Let’s put that to the test, shall we?”

A transition cuts to a old-school fighter character catalog-like presentation of the members, their users and their skins, starting with Y/N’s

PLAYER 0: Koo Y/N (90wesung)

PLAYER 1: Kim Minji (njmj_04)

PLAYER 2: Pham Hanni (hankillz)

PLAYER 3: Danielle Marsh (BuildMasterMDN)

PLAYER 4: Kang Haerin (HR06CRAFT)

PLAYER 5: Lee Hyein (GraciouslyMining)

“hankillz is crazy, by the way.” Playful banter already starts from the first minutes of the video. Hanni laughs from a few seats to Y/N’s left. “You’re playing Build Battle with that name.”

“Hey! At least I’m not BuildMaster!” Hanni looks at Danielle from across the rows of PCs, who just smiles proudly at her username choice. “I think it describes me pretty well!”

“Anyways, as you’ve heard. We’re playing Build Battle!” The video pauses and a little green screen cutout of Y/N's character Widdung appears from the bottom of the frame.

"But before we do that, let me explain the rules!" The little alien cat starts talking (it's just Y/N's voice pitched up), "The NewJeans members are competing for a prize. The competition will be divided into three rounds. Build Battle, Bedwars, and the Final Hunger Games."

"The member that accumulates the most points from the first two rounds will battle with Y/N on a 1v1 Minecraft Hunger Games battle! If said member wins, she wins a box of expensive beef! If Y/N wins..." There's a moment of silence when the little character looks around, "Well, they get the beef anyways as a trophy for their efforts!"

Widdung smiles and jumps cartoonishly, "Let's begin!"

TIME SKIP -> END OF ROUND

1ST PLACE: DANIELLE (100 pts)

2ST PLACE: HYEIN (93 pts)

3RD PLACE: MINJI (79 pts)

4TH PLACE: Y/N (72 pts)

5TH PLACE: HAERIN (65 pts)

6TH PLACE: HANNI (60 pts)

"As expected from Build Master Mo Dani!" Hyein says while looking at Danielle with a proud smile, the latter looking shocked, a whimsical sound effect enhancing the depth of her surprise.

"Wha- I LOST?!" Hanni was also shocked, but in the opposite context. Her disappointment was overshadowed by the pure disbelief in her expression, amused at the way she got the lowest ranking.

"At least I'm not last." Said Haerin with a teasing smirk, rubbing the loss on Hanni's face. "Hey, Kang Haerin!" Hanni nagged at the younger, "Let's see about that next round!"

"As long as no SpongeBob characters are in the next round, you'll be fine I think." Minji teases, as usual.

"It's really hard to make stars in Minecraft, OKAY?!"

"Respectfully, you literally built a pink block." Y/N joins in on the tormenting of the girl, "You almost made pink SpongeBob, and the theme was Patrick..."

"I'll get my revenge..."

TIME SKIP -> END OF SECOND ROUND

1ST PLACE: DANIELLE (95 pts) TOTAL PTS: 195

2ST PLACE: Y/N (90 pts) TOTAL PTS: 162

3RD PLACE: HYEIN (80 pts) TOTAL PTS: 173

4TH PLACE: HAERIN (79 pts) TOTAL PTS: 144

5TH PLACE: MINJI (71 pts) TOTAL PTS: 150

6TH PLACE: HANNI (68 pts) TOTAL PTS: 128

"Danielle, literally, how are you winning?!" Hanni said with a twinge of frustration. "I can't leave the 60's!"

"This is my forte!" The younger smiled proudly at the other Australian, but it suddenly fades, "My only forte, actually. I'm cooked in Bedwars."

The comment makes Y/N laugh and the camera pans to her, "Hey! Have some confidence, girl!" She says in between laughter. "There's another round left!"

TIME SKIP -> END OF SECOND ROUND

1ST PLACE: DANIELLE (98 pts) TOTAL PTS: 293

2ST PLACE: HYEIN (92 pts) TOTAL PTS: 265

3RD PLACE: Y/N (91 pts) TOTAL PTS: 253

4TH PLACE: HANNI (85 pts) TOTAL PTS: 213

5TH PLACE: HAERIN (80 pts) TOTAL PTS: 224

6TH PLACE: MINJI (78 pts) TOTAL PTS: 228

"I TOLD YOU I WAS GETTING MY REVENGE!" Hanni jumps from her seat, startling the rest of the girls. "Suck on that!" She says mindlessly, making her immediately cover her mouth and blush, "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

The younger members and most staff had no idea what she had said and paid no mind to it, while the older girls tried their best to hold down their laughs and Hanni tried to mask her embarrassment.

"You still have the least points overall, bro." Minji pointed out, and Hanni's shame quickly morphed into disappointment.

"You can still twist the plot, Hanni." Y/N suddenly looks directly at the camera, deepened her voice and- "In Bedwars..."

The atmosphere turned cold until the girls exploded in laughter at Y/N's chaotic fail at an intimidating horror movie trailer voice. The latter could only chuckle. "At least they found it funny..." She mutters.

TIME SKIP -> BEDWARS ROUND 1 RESULTS

6TH: DANIELLE | 0 KILLS + first to die (10 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 303

5TH: HYEIN | 2 KILLS + bed destroyed (35 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 300

4TH: HAERIN | 3 KILLS + bed destroyed (55 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 274

3RD: HANNI | 6 KILLS + bed safe + killed by minji (100 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 313

2ND: MINJI | 9 KILLS + bed destroyed + killed by hanni (145 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 373

1ST: Y/N | 13 KILLS + bed safe + killed by minji (240 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 493

"Hello?! Why is Y/N almost in at 500 points already?!" Hanni complains, "Probably because we're playing with a professional, Hanni." Minji defends.

"Oh wow! Maybe not professional but I am pretty good!"

"You do this for a living, Ms. Satellite." Minji teases.

"Hate that! Never say that again." The camera focuses on Y/N's disgusted expression, and both girls laugh from beside each other.

Haerin, who was still at 200 points for some reason, suddenly speaks, "I need to lock in..." She says quietly, making Hanni laugh.

TIME SKIP -> BEDWARS ROUND 2 RESULTS

6TH: DANIELLE | 3 KILLS + bed destroyed (55 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 358

5TH: HYEIN | 7 KILLS + bed destroyed + killed by hanni (105 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 405

4TH: HAERIN | 8 KILLS + bed destroyed (155 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 429

3RD: HANNI | 9 KILLS + bed destroyed + killed by haerin (145 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 458

2ND: MINJI | 11 KILLS + bed destroyed + killed by y/n (185 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 558

1ST: Y/N | 12 KILLS + bed destroyed + killed by hanni (205 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 698

"Hanni unnie, I'm coming for you." Haerin had an evil smirk on her face that shocked Danielle, who was beside her.

"Keep trying, kid." The older responded, but inside she was scared of being dethroned, reflected in the video by a close up to her nervous face and an edited sweat drop falling down Hanni's face.

"The gap in points is insane, I am so sorry Danielle." Said an apologetic Y/N, but the younger girl brushed off her apologies coolly.

"I saw this coming, unnie. Do not apologize." Danielle smiled at the older, "I'm proud enough of my Build Master title."

"NEXT ROUND!" A tense Hyein in 5th place said.

TIME SKIP -> BEDWARS ROUND 3 RESULTS

6TH: DANIELLE | 5 KILLS + bed destroyed (95 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 453

5TH: HYEIN | 10 KILLS + bed destroyed + killed by danielle (165 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 570

4TH: HAERIN | 10 KILLS + bed safe + killed by hyein (180 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 609

3RD: HANNI | 12 KILLS + bed destroyed + killed by minji (205 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 690

2ND: MINJI | 14 KILLS + bed destroyed + killed by y/n (245 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 803

1ST: Y/N | 13 KILLS + bed safe + killed by hanni (240 pts) | TOTAL PTS: 930

"Can I say something about how this is so crazy?" Hyein says, "Minji unnie was horrible at Bedwars, like, a week ago."

"Yeah, are we sure she's not using cheats?" Danielle joins in.

"Bro, I swear, I don't know how she did it but she actually improved." Hanni defends honestly.

The camera pans to Minji, saying nothing but a suspicious smile on her face, being the only one who knew the reason for her sudden improvement was right next to her (she noticed from the start of the video and said nothing).

"Are you confident, Minji?" Y/N asks her final rival.

"I'm... yeah." She sounded oddly uncertain, "Yeah! I am!" She tried again, but everyone was already dumbfounded at her lack(?) of drive.

"I won't go easy on you if you were wondering."

"I wasn't."

TIME SKIP -> HUNGER GAMES 1V1 RESULTS

DURATION: 10 minutes, MINJI WIN!

Screen shows an extremely shocked Y/N. She was actually planning to go easy on Minji at first, but then she almost got killed at minute 3 by the latter and decided to actually play. Even then, Minji hunted her down relentlessly, leaving Y/N no choice but to surrender.

"My prize, please!" A smug smile appeared on Minji's face while her members cheered behind her. The scene cuts to Y/N slowly looking up at the camera with the same shocked expression she was left in.

The girls clears her throat after accepting her defeat, "Sorry. Let me get your beef." Y/N gets up from her seat and walks out of frame, Minji's eyes widened and her jaw drop.

"BEEF?!" The cheers of the other girls grew even louder at the mention of the prize, even when they themselves hadn't won it (Minji was going to share it with them anyways).

Y/N walks back into frame with the huge box in her arms, "Here you go! A win is a win!"

Minji and the girls looked astonished at the sheer size of the box, no less at the quantity of meat inside of it. None of them dare ask how much it cost, "Wow!" The five of them say in unison, and Y/N chuckles in adoration.

"Thank you so much!" Minji says as she receives the gift into her arms, she makes an inside note to ask a question to Y/N after the cameras stop rolling. "We- I'll eat this well!"

"Oh, absolutely!" Y/N says with a smile on her face, "Thank you guys so much for taking the time to join me today!"

"We're so grateful we got to play with you!" Danielle suddenly goes up to Y/N and shakes her hand, the older laughing at the sudden gesture.

"Oh! No, no! It's my pleasure to have you guys here!"

"I love your videos!" Haerin then says from beside Minji, "I'm subscribed to your channel!" She confesses all of a sudden.

"Wait, really? Oh, wow! Thank you!" Overwhelmed by the stream of praise and confessions, Y/N chuckles shyly while the rest of the girls line up to also shake her hand. She receives their compliments with a formal bow.

"We should play together again!" Hanni suggests, "I'll get my actual revenge next time!"

"I'm sure you will!" Y/N laughs at her own teasing, "I think it's time to wrap up. Thank you guys again for joining me today, and thank you guys," She faces the cameras, "for watching and joining us too!"

"Subscribe to isatellite!" Hyein says unanticipatedly and her members laugh.

"Thank you, Hyein!" Y/N pats the girls on the shoulder when she blushes with the regret of her own sudden actions, "Make sure to like, subscribe, and support NewJeans. They're social media and latest release will be linked in the description, but I'm sure you're already streaming it!" She jokes.

"Bye guys!" The six girls say in unison, and Y/N's outro plays. A cartoon Widdung on the side of Y/N's recommended videos to the sound of Right Now's instrumental.

27 minutes and 42 seconds, the screen fades to black.

🎥 replay ? ⁠ﾐ⁠ ⟲

masterlist | next

taglist # @yumtooki @saysirhc @modanisgf @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @miinatozakiii @hotluvlet @mym1na @keiji-jin @wintersgff @wonyoungssi @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @shozeu @nwjnsloona @kaypanaq @pandafuriosa60 @linnnsworld @hwabyul4wheesun

#newjeans x reader #newjeans smau #minji x reader #minji smau #mc-kmj

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visenyaism · 5 months

Note

which bg3 companion do you think would be the worst school teacher?

let’s get it on the board:

10. Unquestionably Astarion. he has no patience, is extremely prickly, is always looking out for himself first, hates children, and is bad at planning. he would not want to be a teacher or attempt to do it unless convinced through some kind of elaborate network of trickery or excessive bribery. he’s just not built for it.

9. Minthara. I debated whether to put her or Astarion last because I think that he would be worse at the job but she would probably end up causing more harm. I know she is running fascist panopticon classroom management at all times. type of person to leave the blinds shut at all times so it’s like an evil cave classroom with occasional nasty fluorescents. no one likes it in there.

8. Shadowheart. I don’t have a ton to say here I just don’t think her heart is in it.

7. Minsc. enthusiasm can get you very very far.

6. Karlach. very very sweet and everyone loves her but also kind of scattered and goes on one billion tangents. could actually convince adolescents to enjoy gym class.

5. Halsin. I think he would be pretty good at it but I also think a job that requires you to commit to having a routine would be terrible for him so he definitely wouldn’t stick around

4. Lae’zel. Hear me out she is extremely brusque and not always great with people, but the way that she is so straightforward and honest about her intentions, her goals, and what she’s trying to do to get everyone there would earn her a lot of respect very quickly. The people love a good clear consistent routine.

3. Jaheira. wins the award for most gay kids eating in her room at lunch. easily. never has a lesson plan but somehow her kids are always doing the best out of everyone in the building. takes no shit.

2. Gale. D1 yapper just like me for real. canonically IS a teacher. sometimes get stuck on tangents or forgets that students do not want to sit and listen to lectures for as long as he does. me personally I don’t think threatening to blow yourself up would be effective classroom management but male teachers simply get away with five times as much as they should

1. Wyll. One of the highest compliments I can give to another human being is that they would be an excellent specifically middle school teacher and I really think Wyll has the personality for it. he is so patient and warm and kind to others and unwaveringly principled AND extremely self-sacrificing so you know that admin love him. no one knows how he does it.

#bg3 #this was fun

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hotyanderedaddies · 10 months

Text

How to Tell if Your Boyfriend is a Werewolf

[I have no idea what a “NERP” is 😅]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

So you think that your boyfriend might be a werewolf. Luckily for you, there are a set of questions that you can ask yourself to know for sure:

Is your boyfriend bigger than the average male?

Not just down there, but is your boyfriend really big? Is he kinda built? Werewolves tend to possess genes that cause them to easily outsize the average human. Take note of whenever you and your man enter into a room; if he’s the tallest one and the most muscular there, then odds are that he’s a werewolf. This goes especially for alphas!

2. Does your boyfriend growl at other people who approach you?

Werewolves are notoriously territorial creatures. And if you’re dating one, then they’ll definitely be territorial over you. Depending on the werewolf, he might growl at other guys (or even girls) who approach you in public to chat you up, or sometimes he might even bare his teeth at a barista who’s simply asking for your order. Next time the two of you are out in public, take note. If your man jealously growls whenever someone else steals your attention away from him, he might be werewolf!

3. Do all of your belongings somehow smell like your boyfriend?

Like most canines, werewolves like to put their scent on what they view as theirs. And Reader, if you’re dating a werewolf, then in their eyes, you belong to them. Hence, if you aren’t congested and you take a whiff of your clothes, bed, car— anything that you use on a daily basis, try to tell if it smells suspiciously like your boyfriend. If your man is a werwolf, then he one-hundred percent scented your belongings so that his scent clings to you. It’s a way he can show other werewolves that you’re off limits since you’re his.

4. Does your boyfriend avoid silver?

Silver isn’t just a gorgeous metal, but it’s also deadly to werewolves. It can burn their skin and silver dust in the air at some jewelry shops can prove to be toxic. Therefore, if your boyfriend asks you not to wear your beautiful silver bracelet whenever you’re out on a date, then he might be a werewolf. Or maybe you just can’t pull off silver?

5. Does your boyfriend disappear once a month?

If your boyfriend mysteriously vanishes one night out of the month, then take the time to check the nighttime sky. If there’s a full moon outside, then he might be a werewolf. If he belongs to a pack, then most alphas prohibit pack members from revealing their werewolf status to humans— at least until marriage (talk about a shocking honeymoon). If he’s rogue, meaning he doesn’t belong to a pack, then he might just be afraid of how you’ll react to the fact that he’s a werewolf. Most werewolves have difficulty controlling their animalistic instincts on nights of the full moon, hence he might steer clear from you to protect you… or prevent himself from mounting you nonstop.

6. Is your boyfriend very touchy?

Wolves are pack animals, and they tend to be pretty handsy with their fellow pack members to show their affection. Werewolves are the same, especially with their significant others. Does your boyfriend smother you in cuddles and kisses whenever you enter the room? When you’re out in public, does your boyfriend NEED to hold your hand or have his arm secured around your shoulders? If your special guy refuses to let any inch of space in between the two of you, you might be dating a werewolf.

7. Does your boyfriend enjoy belly rubs?

Werewolves often roll over onto their backs during cuddle time, giving their darling a puppy-eyed look as they ask for a good belly rub. If your boyfriend loves your hands all over his chest, the act turning him into mush, then he might be a werewolf. Good news is that it’s a surefire technique to turn a big scary werewolf into a giddy puppy.

8. When having sex, does your boyfriend howl when he climaxes?

Yes, that happens sometimes.

9. Does your boyfriend claim to have trouble sleeping without you?

Werewolves usually have a pack mentality, meaning that they stick together in groups. This carries over to sleep, in which a werewolf finds it near impossible to fall asleep without their darling in their arms. If your boyfriend constantly tangles himself up with you in bed, and you wake up using him as your pillow, then it’s quite possible that he’s a werewolf.

10. And most importantly: Is your boyfriend really, REALLY possessive of you?

Again, as stated earlier, werewolves are extremely territorial creatures. And if you’re dating one, this fierce possessiveness extends to you. Pay close attention to your boyfriend. Does he growl at people who approach you? Does he seem to always know your whereabouts, almost as if he just “conveniently” keeps showing up? Has he ever said the specific phrase, “You’re Mine”? Have you ever tried to leave and he blocks the door, or tries to lock you away? If your boyfriend insists on keeping you all to himself at all times, then he’s definitely a werewolf!

#werewolf #yandere boyfriend #yandere werewolf #yandere daddy #yandere boy #werewolf lore #magazine survey #possessive love

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bunny-lily · 5 months

Text

Tether Me - Chapter 1

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader

Summary: “Jesus!” You shrieked and jumped with all the elegance of a newborn fawn, spinning on your heel to find a head of blindingly white hair and pearly canines equally as eye-burning greeting you through a wide grin. Though you couldn’t see the man's eyes behind those curiously round shades of his, you could picture how his cheeks crinkled his hidden hues at the corners.

If any of the Greek or Roman gods were real, he’d outshine every one of them without breaking a sweat.

AN: no particular additional warnings for this chapter. I'll add new warnings for any chapters that might require them (for example, nsfw)

Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 | Ch: 5 - 1 | Ch: 5 - 2

WC: 15.3k

Seeing your new…home in the unforgiving glare of daytime made you realize that the realtor spent more time photoshopping the box of danger to make it appear appealing than actually selling it. Gave it to the first poor buyer that bit the bait and dashed off.

Said poor buyer was you. Apparently.

A rickety bamboo fence, chipped and scratched by god knows what, wrapped loosely around your property, the pathetic poles clinging to life by threads about as strong as spider silk. Quite the sad barrier. Honestly, you had no idea how it managed to remain upright this long at all.

The description on the site you found it on was very, very vague with anything regarding the building. Even with your prodding, the most you generally got was “well, nobody died in it, and it’s still standing.”

Good enough for you, clearly, considering you slapped the Sold! sign on the damn listing yourself maybe 30 minutes and a glass of wine (or three) after finding the soggy, depressing shack.

Granny was right. This thing was a damn mess. It should have been condemned ages ago.

You couldn’t decide if it was bigger or smaller than you expected. Somewhat disproportionate was the best way you could put it. The terrain surrounding it was much more expansive than the photos showed, the boundaries only sort of marked out by the aforementioned sad barrier. It was considerably isolated, which you weren’t really complaining about, but you noted way too late that taking care of all that overgrown grass was going to be a nightmare on your back. Arms, too. Every part of your body, honestly.

The building itself had certainly seen better days, such as the day it was built, and perhaps the day after, if you were being generous. The agent was very shifty about exact details, but in his defense, this place was basically in the Bumfuck Middle of Nowhere, Japan, in likely one of the smallest countryside villages there was in the whole country.

You were also substantially intoxicated and ready to put down your life savings on anything.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to go that far, but you truly underestimated the scope of this ‘project’. The entire plot needed a fresh splash of paint at minimum. Ideally, you needed to shear the lawn of all those super pretty weeds that you were very tempted to just leave as is because they were so pretty, mhm, would be an absolute shame to get rid of them.

You’d need to clear out the stone path leading from the fence gate to your front door that you quite literally stumbled over last night. Or just toss the stones altogether, because fuck those things and whoever put them there.

The outer walls needed a good scrubbing, and another, and one more for good measure. Quite a few shingles on the roof showed signs of being ready to split your skull open with only a wayward breeze needed to push them off the edge. The hinges creaked horribly on every part of the building, enough so that you were certain the entire village would’ve been awoken by you tripping over yourself to get into the house had you not been a decent 10 or so minute walk from the closest cottage.

And all of this was just what was outside.

That fence, ugly little shit that it was, was either going to become your worst nightmare, or a begrudging friend.

You noted with mild interest that your house resembled western abodes more than Japanese ones.

Maybe if you kept the place rundown, people wouldn’t think to stop by your place unannounced. Ah, what a delight that would be. If you were lucky, nobody knew the property had been sold yet. If you were extra lucky, you could get your shopping done (plus whatever other errands you couldn’t do from home) by keeping your head down, and none would be the wiser to your existence.

Aside from Granny, of course. Kinda hard to hide from that woman now that she’d given you food off her own back. You needed to do something in return, but you set that on the back burner for now.

The interior required basically everything to be fixed up, that was non-negotiable. You refused to sleep on crusty wood floors and old tatami that had long since been glued to the surface beneath with gods know what. At the very least, you needed to somehow clean the floor. Preferably, mend the walls, plug any holes, get the pipes functioning if they weren’t already, and a whole other fuckin’ list of soul crushing deeds that needed completion.

Furniture, while questionably not a necessity for survival, was definitely a need for you. If only so you had something to sleep on other than the basically flat, nylon bag laid out in the corner of the room you gracelessly snored within.

But how?

You planted your hands on your hips and exhaled through your nose. “I wonder if Amazon ships to this place…”

A pipe dream, certainly; but, gods, would it make your life so much easier.

You could try to build your own furniture, but you trusted running with scissors more than you trusted your own potential handiwork. Which meant repairing the house itself on your own was likely a very bad idea.

“Ah, fuck,” you hissed as you realized the other shit you’d need to do aside from creating an actual proper space to live. “I’ll have to learn how to sew and garden and fucking carpent and everything…”

You groaned as you pictured every task that awaited you, and subsequently buried your face in your hands. Maybe you should have just torn the whole fucking thing down, bought a plastic shed from the nearest city, dragged it over, set it up, and called it home sweet home. You didn’t need that much space anyway, right?

“No, can’t regret this now, too late to regret this, you chose this,” your voice was muffled and grit out through clenched teeth. “Made your bed, now sleep in it, idiot.”

“Yeah, kinda dumb choice, if you ask me.”

An unexpected voice originated from behind you, startling the living daylights out of you and shooting your heart straight out of your body.

“Jesus!” You shrieked and jumped with all the elegance of a newborn fawn, spinning on your heel to find a head of blindingly white hair and pearly canines equally as eye-burning greeting you via a wide grin. Though you couldn’t see the man's eyes behind those curiously round shades of his, you could picture how his cheeks crinkled his hidden hues at the corners.

If any of the Greek or Roman gods were real, he’d outshine every one of them without breaking a sweat.

The warming late-spring wind grazed through the fluffy locks of his hair like the delicate touch of a lover’s hands, weaving through the fine strands and carrying his scent to you.

Mixed with the heat of the approaching humid season, you caught faint hints of sweetness, with an underlying minty tone and something you couldn't name. He was too far away for you to pinpoint the exact fragrance, but you had no intention of just skipping right over and shoving your nose against the junction of his neck to get a better whiff.

Or maybe his chest? The way he was slouching made it difficult to gauge his height, but you had a feeling he was a great deal taller than you, and the stout slope you stood on would do you virtually no favors.

The shiver that went up your spine at the thought was promptly ignored.

“Not quite,” the unfairly gorgeous stranger replied with a snicker from where he leaned against the fence, arms slotted between the bamboo sticks. How it held him up without crumbling into dust was a miracle in itself. “But I’m flattered.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you placed your hand against your chest, trying to will the wretched thing to calm down. Handling adrenaline was not your forte, much less from a scare like this. With your eyes narrowed, and only partially because of the accursed brilliance that was coming summer, you glared at the man. He was far too relaxed and cocky for your liking, still sporting that goofy grin that had you feeling things you didn’t want to address now.

Or ever.

“Who are you?” You queried.

“I should be asking you that, pretty girl.”

Your nose wrinkled incredulously. “Pretty girl?”

He chose to overlook your objection, instead nodding towards your house. “Never thought I’d get to witness this shithole get bought by anyone, let alone someone like you. Thought it’d get torn down sooner than have a hundred yen tossed towards it.”

Your eyes rolled. Hard. He wasn’t wrong, it was a shithole, but now it was your shithole. The less reminders about its miserable state of existence you had, the better. “Gee, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Completely against your will, you snorted. He was going to be a wonderful source of entertainment, or he was going to be a thorn in your side, just like the sickly sticks under his arms. The jury was still out on it.

You stared at one another for a few seconds that dragged on too long before you raised a brow. “Weeeell…?” You drew out the word.

His head cocked to the side. “Well?”

“Your name. You never told me who you are.” You knew it was polite to introduce yourself first, but fuck that, he scared the hell out of you. The responsibility was on him.

“Oh, right,” he straightened up, then bent forward with one hand to his chest and the other outstretched sideways in an extravagant bow. “Gojo Satoru, the very one and only. What about you, sweetheart?”

Pet names aside, there was a debate in your mind, an argument between whether you should give the admittedly attractive stranger your real name, or create one on the spot. You had done the latter in your later months of running all over your home country like a chicken without a head under the stupid belief that it'd further separate you from the anxieties clinging to your shins.

You were paranoid. That was easy enough to decipher.

Your conscience had spawned this nerve wracking idea that those you ghosted – from scorned lovers who scarcely got further than kissing you, to the jobs and employers you abandoned suddenly – were after you.

It left you constantly scanning your 6 from over your shoulder with the fear that they’d come chasing you down, eager to dig their claws into your paper-kite flesh and permanently force you down. You could visualize them tearing through your wings, winding layers of rope around your throat and knotting the dangling strings so tightly that not even the sharpest blade could break through the binds, much less let you breathe. So, you frequently lied about your identity as much as you could.

You inhaled slowly through your teeth, not enough to whistle, but enough to ground you. You were on the complete other side of the world, far away from those who would care to snarl and bare their fangs at your heels as they ran faster than you could – if there were any who desired to at all. You were somewhere new, somewhere unfamiliar, a place where nobody knew you, or could possibly know you by any means.

You told not a soul about where you’d gone. You never did. Like ash in the wind, you disappeared faster than anyone could blink, any memory of smoldering embers long forgotten.

Maybe…maybe you were safe to at least slip forth some truth about yourself.

Like most things you did nowadays, you told him your real name on a whim, and hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.

He hummed as he repeated it to you, as if testing it on his tongue, dipping in for a small taste. Then, that stunning grin returned, and your heart fluttered behind your ribs.

You stubbornly stamped your heel down onto it. You didn’t know why it decided to start acting up, but you were not going to entertain it.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he cooed. “What brought you here of all places? So rich you’re bored? Fell for a scam? One of those girly things?”

You scoffed.

“Or maybe you’re running from something.”

The blood in your veins froze over in an instant, your body going rigid as you stared at him. He…he couldn’t have known, right? The way he stated it, rather than asked – like he knew – had you struggling to swallow, to so much as twitch your fingers. There was no way. You– you were nobody, a blank slate, an outsider–

His head cocked to the side playfully, and the spell he had cast on you withered away as quickly as it came.

Finally able to breathe again, you vented out the air you unknowingly held and turned your face slightly away, hoping he didn’t catch your slip-up. “One of those girly things,” you settled, to which he nodded eagerly, as if you just confirmed the existence of a theory of his that ‘girly things’ were real.

Not that he was wholly wrong, technically, as you did have ‘one of those girly things’ urges from time to time. The desire to cut or dye your hair, pick up a new name, rearrange your room, or hop on a plane to the furthest fucking location you could imagine.

“Why’d you choose this…thing then?” Gojo jerked his chin towards the shabby hut.

“It was cheap,” you answered simply.

He bobbed his head in acknowledgement. “Where are you staying?”

Your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked at him, your brow knitting. “...Here?”

“...Here.”

“Here.”

There was a brief pause, then he burst into laughter, his arms hugging his stomach. “Oh, god,” he wheezed. Personally, you couldn’t find what was so funny about the situation. “You serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His finger slipped under the right lens of his glasses, presumably to wipe a tear away as he worked on calming himself down. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Fire flared in your veins as opposed to ice this time. “Hey!”

“I mean, seriously, who in their right mind would stay inside that thing?”

Your lip curled over your teeth in a snarl. “Oi–”

He bulldozed right along, completely ignoring you. “There’s gotta be, like, ghosts in there. Or a shit ton of spiders. Lots of spiders, actually.”

That got your attention. A shudder shot up your back and you squealed in fright, shaking off your hands to rid yourself of the phantom feeling of creepy crawlies on your skin. “Spiders?”

The milky-headed male nodded staidly. “Tons. And, y’know, the other obvious health hazards. I bet there’s asbestos in those walls.”

You opened your mouth to argue that your house had only been abandoned for 20 years, and that asbestos had been cut out of usage some 40 odd years ago, until you remembered that 1) asbestos didn’t immediately go out of use when the dangers were revealed, and 2) you house was abandoned 20 years ago, not built 20 years ago. Who knows how old it actually was?

Given its appearance…

He must’ve seen the panic on your face, because he gave you a piercing smile, an expression you very swiftly understood was one of scheming. “You should come stay with me.”

The world halted around you for the seconds it took your mind to process what he said. “...Hah?”

“I said, you should come stay with me,” Satoru shrugged nonchalantly. “I have spare guest rooms.”

“I– you�� stay with– what?”

The grimace he gave your house could only be described as ‘execrating’. “I mean, come on, you’re not really thinking of staying there, are you? You’ll be sending yourself to an early grave like that, you’re too cute to die so soon. Just come stay at my place.”

Was he a murderer?

Your brain finally caught up with a click and you scowled. “Oh, yeah, that’s super safe,” you responded sardonically. “New girl in a new town full of total strangers with who-knows-what motives, lemme just go stay with the first guy that invites me to his home.”

“Come onnnn, you can trust me,” he whined, pouting.

“I literally just met you.”

The ease with which he gave up gave you whiplash, having expected him to keep pushing. “Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “Hey, did you know that your backdoor doesn’t have a lock?”

You paled.

Definitely something a murderer would say.

Your head whipped to gawp at your dwelling with wide eyes, a full on war raging through your head now.

On one hand, yes, he was a complete and total stranger. A hot one, but still an unknown entity who could just be buttering you up. Maybe the reason the house had been abandoned for so long was because anytime a new owner came in, they got snatched up by the handsome boy who invited them just like he invited you, never to be seen again.

He could have been lying about the lock – though it honestly didn’t matter, someone could probably just break through a wall if they pushed hard enough on it.

On the other hand, if he was telling the truth (how did he know that? Why?), he was the only person you knew even a little in this itty bitty isolated village (Granny doesn’t count). Anyone could go through that door at night and there you would be, wrapped up in your shitty, thin sleeping bag, prime kidnapping material. You basically did all the hard work by tying your own limbs right up yourself, easiest catch of the century.

At the very least, you knew Gojo’s name and face. Granted, the first item there was debatable, but he didn’t seem like the type to lie about his name – boast about it, more like. You’d be already acquainted with your would-be assailant, so it’d be nice to know the face of your kidnapper-slash-torturer-slash-killer, if only so you could punch a picture of it over and over in your afterlife, wherever death may take you.

You shifted your gaze to him and crossed an apprehensive arm over your chest, propping your elbow up on it while you pinched your chin in consideration.

There he was, the sly rat, wearing that dumb (cute) (no) grin of his as always, patiently awaiting your answer as if he already knew it. Nothing about him seemed inherently dangerous on the surface, but don’t they say serial killers are charming and charismatic people? He was a bit energetic for a murderer, though.

You weighed your options carefully. You could spend another horrid night in your house with the knowledge that there were likely insects everywhere, and possibly even asbestos in the walls, and who knows what else. You’d have to brush your teeth by using your water tumbler again, and…oh, fuck, you hadn’t even thought about the bathroom yet. How were you going to shower? Wash your face? Do your business?

Then there was your poor excuse of a bed, more plastic than anything even remotely comfy. Same with the pillow, you might as well have been sleeping on the bare ass floor. Your neck ached at the thought. Then there was your food issue, your clothes, your devices…

You sighed.

“What’s the catch?” You questioned reluctantly.

He merely raised his hands in a shrug. “No catch.”

That was way too easy, but the prospect of an actual bed and a tidy (hopefully) homestead was too good to pass up, serial killer owner be damned.

Future you was just getting more and more tasks thrown at her, such as your new objective being to find an inn to live in while you figured out your home issues. And getting a job to afford said inn. But that was for way later, when you weren’t losing your goddamned mind.

“...Fine,” you surrendered. Like a pussy. Weak.

“Yippee!” Satoru cheered, somehow smiling wider. “Good girl, knew ya had a brain somewhere up there.”

Your stomach flip-flopped at the simultaneous praise and insult, confusing your head with emotions (and hormones) that you did not want to unpack. Cheeks reddening rapidly, you hissed at him through a tight jaw, shooing away the kindling something that pooled in your tummy. “You–”

“C’mon,” he interrupted you before you could even start, already turning to leave as he waved his hand over his shoulder, “I’ll show ya the way. Ain’t far from here.”

Flustered, you stuttered indignantly, watching him walk away. You shook your head in defeat and jogged to catch up to him, needing to speed walk to match his ridiculously long strides. “Oi, slow down! You’re too damn tall!”

“You’re just short,” he argued, his hands interlocking as they rested against the back of his head. “Pipsqueak.”

You gasped in offense as if you weren’t at tiddy-sucking height. “I am not a pipsqueak!”

“You totally are,” he purred, treating you like you were some sort of adorable pet. “I bet I could pick you up and throw you if I wanted.”

An unwitting laugh bubbled out of you, and for some reason, you decided to play this frivolous game of his. “I’d like to see you try.”

You immediately regretted it as he reached out for you with a shit-eating expression of absolute delight, making you yelp and race off ahead of him, screeching as he chased right after you.

“Wait, no, don’t!” Your voice rang clear, fright mixed with childlike thrill spreading to your limbs as you scurried down the open road. “I was kidding!”

“Get back here!”

The wind blew past your ears, tangled into your hair, followed the curves of your body as you darted about alongside it. You let it guide you, toy with the fabric of your shirt, cup your face with cool hands. You breathed deeply, and you flew, untethered and free and so overwhelmed.

Somewhere above, beyond the boundless and endless cerulean, a star flickered.

You screamed when you felt his hands pinch your waist, catching Satoru’s devilish gleam as he passed you, and suddenly, you were the one chasing him. He cackled as you tried to catch up to him, taunting you all the way.

Curse his long legs.

You wondered how he managed to keep talking so cleanly and easily while you were struggling to maintain your breath and gait.

All those years of metaphorical running, sadly, did not translate into actual, physical running. Air stung your throat, and you only faintly recognized that you were running after him through the village, more focused on keeping that head of ivory tresses in sight.

Yet, somehow, contrary to how concentrated you were on that task, he managed to slip from your view when he turned a sharp corner and seemingly passed through an invisible barrier of some kind. He had to, because when you turned that same corner just seconds later, he was nowhere to be found.

Slowing your sprint into a trot, then stopping altogether, you bowed over and planted one hand on your knee while the other clutched your side.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, your body aching in several places, both internal and external. “I almost regret skipping gym in school.”

Peeking up through your hair to check around, every part of the street you were on seemed innocuous, normal, without any obvious hiding spots Satoru might have jumped into.

The vertically dominant fucker.

Cautiously, you marched forward, breathing heavily as you took slow steps. The game of cat and mouse had turned into hide-and-seek, and the sucker chose not to warn you. Granted, you would have done the exact same thing, but it was within your right to bitch about it, you were at several disadvantages.

The first alley was clear of anything, even objects. Nothing more than a small gap between two buildings, you doubted he would’ve managed to squeeze in there given how giant he was. Plus, where would he have gone even if he did wiggle into it?

The next alley was the same story. There was more space, but very little within said space, only a couple crates that were too small to hide him. Again, giant.

Everything, you belatedly realized, was completely uncharted territory to you. You should have listened to Granny and explored the village first. But, if you had, maybe you wouldn’t have a real bed to sleep in tonight. Presumably. You were putting too much faith into Gojo being genuine about the bed – and not being a serial killer – otherwise you were sleeping outside.

“Bastard.” The pain in your hip subsided and you righted yourself, inspecting every direction for any indication of white hair. It would be significantly difficult to hide that feature in an area like this, where pretty much everything had a neutral-dark colored theme, and most people had black or brunette hair.

You wondered why he was towheaded. A question for another day.

He was a magician, or trickster, you ruled, rather than acknowledging the fact that he knew this town far better than you did and likely would for a while to come.

Grumbles passed through your lips as you stood akimbo, squinting at everything skeptically. “Where the hell–”

“Boo!”

You swear your soul ascended. You could picture the trail it left behind as it rose into the heavens, pulling with it a choked croak of terror from you. The sound could hardly be considered a shout, you resembled a frog more than you did a goat in the screaming department.

Demented cackling erupted behind you as you leapt forward and clutched your chest, swinging around to glower at the boy in utter disbelief. Twice now he had done this. Twice! Beside yourself, you rushed over towards him and smacked his arm repeatedly, which only fueled his laughter. “Dick!”

“Fuck!” Satoru heaved, reaching his whistle register. “Priceless! Oh, my god, you should have seen your face.”

“I’m gonna kill you!” The threat was far less menacing than you wanted when your own voice was as squeaky as his.

By the time he calmed down, you were both panting – you out of chagrin (and for the sake of your poor heart), and him to get precious oxygen back to his smooth brain.

“I’m serious about that, by the way,” you pouted at him. “I’m gonna kill you for scaring me. Again.”

He beamed at you and reached to pat your head, but was intercepted by your hand, only to dodge around it and manage to get a few head pats in anyway. “Sure you will, sweets.”

You growled and stomped a few steps away, stopped, then whirled back around when you remembered you had no idea where you were going. He simply crossed his arms over his chest and scrutinized you with that stupid, supercilious visage.

“Go on,” he encouraged eagerly. “Ask.”

The inside of your cheek was going to be sore from how much you were chewing it. You were at an impasse; let him win, or try to find his place on your own. With no idea what it looked like. Or what direction to even go.

You imagined you’d have better luck wearing a blindfold if you tried the latter option. Either way, he was going to win, you could acknowledge that. Conceding and requesting his continued guidance meant handing over his victory on a silver platter, or he’d get some decent entertainment out of watching you try to figure out where the hell he lived.

Gods, you were regretting moving here already.

“Show me how to get to your house,” you mumbled.

The tall freak fake-cooed at you. “Aww, come on, you can do better than that.”

If glouting could kill, you would be slow-roasting him over a grill. In the meekest voice you could manage, you muttered, “please.”

“Hmmm?” He canted closer towards you. “Didn’t quite catch that.”

You could feel your sanity draining like sand in an hourglass. Just to get it over with, you spoke properly. “Please show me how to get to your house.”

The jubilant grin he gave you had you reconsidering that blindfold idea you had. “Better! Good girl, come along, now.”

Oh, your insides could just melt.

No, you argued with yourself as you trailed behind him, reluctantly obedient. You are not getting horny over that, you sad sack of potatoes. You’re just pent up. A pretty boy calls you a good girl and you’re a sobbing mess under your pants.

Pathetic.

He whistled a sharp tune as he lazily led you, weaving around the architecture in such a way that you knew you never would have found the damn place on your own – or find your way back, for that matter. He was doing this on purpose to get you confused just to fuck with you, you knew it.

You were placing a lot of stock in him not being a murderer.

“Keep up, shortie,” he waved his fingers over his shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

Taking a (albeit mild) hike up a road traveling up the mountainside was not something you expected nor planned for. Now you were lamenting skipping gym. Not that participating more in exercise over a decade ago would help you currently, but at least you’d be able to believe you were stronger than this.

Satoru watched you with no small amount of amusement as you finally caught up to his still figure, lips curved. “Man, you suck at this.”

“I didn’t exactly study hiking in school,” you grumbled, closing your eyes and breathing deep.

“I’d hardly call a walk ‘hiking’,” he commented, and you wimpishly smacked his arm. “We gotta work on your stamina.”

You could hear the smirk and underlying innuendo without needing to see his stupid, handsome face.

“In your dreams, pretty boy,” you muttered.

“How do you know what I dream about?”

Your eyes popped open to glare at the man as he fluttered his lashes and pressed his fingers to his chest. “You’re a menace,” you scowled, ignoring his faux ‘innocence’ in favor of looking ahead.

And getting the wind utterly knocked out of you.

This grandiose mansion was where he lived?

Balking, you stared up at his house from beneath the arch of the moon gate in front of it, taking in the sheer magnitude and extravagance of it, even from just the outside. A variety of leafy trees, well trimmed bushes, and aromatic flowers decorated it in precise symmetry, each individual blade of grass nipped to preeminence.

There was a garden off to the left, freshly tended to and beautiful with a pond in the center. You couldn’t see what was in it, but you wouldn’t be surprised if koi fish were there as well.

A partially shaded gazebo stood on the other side, right next to a gentle creek that trickled leisurely. A stone table sat in the center, and you could imagine drinking tea in the early morning there, when the sun would hit it at the right angle to warm you up.

The aesthetic was prizewinning; a wonderful, skillful mix between traditional and modern, all incorporated into a house you thought could only exist in one of those style magazines.

How long had it been here? How had it been built so extravagantly? How much did it cost?

All these painfully curious questions, yet, the first thing you thought to say when you opened your mouth…

“You said it was nearby,” you pouted. “This is the other side of town.”

“Eh?” He glanced down at you. “Doesn’t seem that far to me.”

Your index finger flicked the outside of his thigh. “That’s because you’re a walking tree.”

Gojo slapped his thigh in the same spot, beaming at you. “These are good for a lot of things.”

“I’m sure,” the unamused deadpan you gave him had him snickering.

That shit-eating grin was back and he waggled his brows. “I could show you.”

“Pass,” you rolled your eyes, addressing his house instead. “Why is your house so far away from the village? Up the whole ass mountain and everything.”

He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Dunno. It was built here a long time ago. Obviously upgraded over the years, duh, but if I had to guess, it’s because of the hot spring. The rest of the village just built lower down the path for convenience, or they were intimidated by the Gojo name.”

“Hot spring?” You furrowed your brow.

Nonchalant as always, he nodded. “Yeah, there’s a natural hot spring in the backyard.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say you have a hot spring in your backyard?”

Being the rich boy that he was, he cocked his head to the side and spared you an inquisitive peek, as if to say ‘you don’t have one?’ “Yeah? You wanna see?”

“Uh, yes?” You gawked shamelessly.

Satoru grinned and beckoned for you to follow, and you skipped right along behind him, barely managing to remind yourself to hurriedly take off your shoes at the door. You had to force yourself to be careful and line them up neatly. You also used this chance to eye the obviously rich-people footwear. You wouldn’t hesitate to bet that one pair alone was worth more than one of your kidneys.

All worries of him being a potential monster dashed out the window as you let him lead you through the winding halls to a shoji door near the back of his house – you had to guess, you were not paying attention at all. You were too focused on the expensive decor and feeling way out of place.

The scenery that greeted you as soon as the door slid open had you stopping dead in your tracks in shere awe.

He hadn’t been lying, there really was a hot spring in his backyard. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about his smug expression, mindlessly allowing him to gently push you forward with a hand to the small of your back.

“Close your mouth, you’ll start drooling,” he teased.

Your jaw clicked shut and you shot him a half-hearted glare before your attention returned to the pool of steaming water ahead of you.

The entire area was gorgeous, honestly. Round stone circles created a path along gravel from the engawa to the basin, which was surrounded mostly by rocks with plants growing between cracks and around the base here and there. Massive pines encompassed the entire area, giving you the sensation of safety and protection.

A trail on the side led somewhere else, winding between mounds of perfectly maintained green terra, though that was of insignificant interest to you at the moment.

An instruction was murmured against the shell of your ear, and you wordlessly and thoughtlessly obeyed. “Look up.”

“...Oh.”

High above, between the gaps in the trees, you had a prime view of the sky, spanning across the ring the forest created, deep and wondrous and so…clear. The brightest blue you had ever seen. If the moon got caught just right, exactly in the middle, you believed magic would happen.

The towering pines kept the area shaded and pleasantly cool, and you were swept away by the urge to sink into the hot spring and let everything else fade away.

When you lowered your chin to look at him, you found he was already gazing at you, his grin softened to a small upturn of his lips at the corners. He was just so…divine. Moonflower hair framed his face, cottony and fluffy, and though you couldn’t see his eyes clearly through the indigo tint of his shades, you could feel them. They were piercing, capable of seeing right through your skin and witnessing your heart beating as it stuttered and struggled to regain its footing.

The way he studied you felt so familiar.

An intense watch, pinned directly on you, making the hairs on your nape stand.

You yearned to see his hues without the barrier his dark, round glasses provided, and you wondered if they could rival those of the sky, or the gods’.

“Whatcha think?” He asked silkenly as he leaned forward and tilted his head to be closer to you.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured in response without really thinking, the words flowing out of you without your conscious action. “It’s like a dream.”

You weren’t sure if you meant the eden you were brought to, or the heavenly being beside you. Either way, he smiled radiantly at you and nudged your shoulder lightly with his own.

“Wanna touch it?”

Your lashes fluttered as you tried to come back to yourself and not let your mind wander to places you could not reach. “The hot spring?”

“Mhmm.”

It took a considerable amount of effort to tear your eyes off of him and set them back on the cirque of water hidden beneath mist. Like a siren’s song, you slipped on the outdoor slippers nearby and stepped off the engawa, pacing along the stone path. It was smoother, flush with the terrain, unlike the haphazardous placements of the ones you had at your own home.

The pool was milky, tinted with a rich, capri shade, reminding you instantly of a lagoon, or a salt flat mirroring the zion above that went on as far as the eye could see. A miniscule waterfall trickled placidly from the highest outcropping, following the narrow and shallow path it had carved for itself over countless years.

You resisted the urge to cup it in your hands and drink it like sacred nectar.

At the edge, you knelt down and skimmed the tips of your fingers across the water’s surface. Goosebumps broke out across your arm and you shuddered inadvertently. Heat spread over your palm as steam coiled around you, surrounding you partially in a cocoon of warmth. The temperature bordered on the line between too hot and not enough finely, urging you to crawl beneath the water’s cusp and embrace the cradle of coziness.

“Good, isn’t it?” Gojo startled you as he spoke from where he knelt down next to you. He seemed to be proficient at scaring the shit out of you. This close, you could detect his attar clearly, and the last part of his unique fragrance finally fell into place.

Lemon.

He smelled like sweet lemons and mint.

“Yeah–” you squeaked, and cleared your throat to try again. “Yeah, it’s really nice. Like…perfect, actually.”

He snickered and dipped his hand into the diaphanous liquid, bringing it back up to splash it onto your arm. With a cry of mock offense, you splashed him right back, cracking up as you managed to get a decent scoop into his mouth.

You didn’t know what it was about him. Rightfully, you’d only been aware of each other for less than two hours, but it felt like you’d known him your whole life. The banter flowed easily, the games you hadn’t played since you were so young that you could only vaguely remember, the way he spoke to you, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

No heavy feelings sat on your chest, creaking the brittle bars of your ribcage, filling you with an innate sense of dread and desire to flee and never stop for a second. Nothing of the sort crossed your mind. No rock weighed in the pit of your stomach, no widow’s voice murmured in your ear.

It was just you and him, in a bubble of time where nothing and everything mattered all at once. Every breath you took was meaningless, yet held the weight of the world. Every twitch of his fingers could rest even the weariest souls, or rend the sky apart should he ever care to.

But he didn’t, and neither did you.

This pocket-sized domain of serenity you found yourself in brought forth dormant feelings of ease and comfort.

They didn’t feel like a mask painted on to cover the blooming, spreading bruises under your skin and behind your solar plexus. They didn’t feel like a temporary setup to sate your mind until the panic overwhelmed you all over again.

Rather, they composed a nest of the finest blankets you’d ever touched, let alone slept within. You wanted to crawl in and close your eyes and hibernate, sleep as life passed you by. You wanted to live in this moment forever.

The shoulder of his shirt grew damp where he rubbed his curled lips against it. “Kitty’s got claws, huh?”

“Fangs, too,” your nose scrunched up as you gave him a sly, Cheshire cat smile. “I’ll let you kill me if you let me use your hot spring first.”

“Deal.”

You snorted. “Not even gonna dispute it, huh?”

“I’m assuming the ‘kill’ part is optional here.”

“I won’t push my luck then,” you accepted as you stood up, shaking any excess moisture off your hand. Upon remembering Granny, you pulled out your phone from your purse, tsking at the 47% charge level in the top right corner, then glanced at the time. Midday.

Satoru peeped over your shoulder after he rose up. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“Time,” you replied, shooing him away to stop him from being nosy. Not that you really had anything worth hiding.

Most of the pictures on your phone were photos you’d taken of the outside world during your trips, random things that meant something at the time you snapped the pic, but meant absolutely zip now, or blurry images of animals that refused to stay still for you.

“Granny wanted me to explore the town to get more familiar with it, then stop by for lunch,” your phone locked with a click as you stuffed it back in your bag and continued your explanation.

He whistled. “Adopted by Granny, and on your first day, too? That’s impressive, means you’re special.”

“Eh?” Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Why? She seems like she’d be a nice person to everyone.”

He chuckled as you both headed back into his house. “Granny’s a prickly lady. Don’t get me wrong, she cares about everyone in the village,” he reassured you as he let you step in first and slid the door shut behind him, “but mostly in a ‘I-will-throw-my-shoe-at-you’ kind of way.”

“Huh,” that didn’t sound too far off from Granny, given what you knew, but you had also only met her that morning. “She gave me free food and told me she’ll have a list of handymen when I go back today.”

“Wow. She won’t even let me steal a candy bar from her store, and I’ve known her my whole life. Must mean you’re really special.”

“There’s a difference between buying and stealing, Gojo,” pausing in your steps, you frowned as contemplation came over you. “...Do you think she thinks I’m incompetent?”

“Probably.”

“Gojo!” You hissed at his lackadaisical response.

His hands raised in surrender. “Kidding, kidding! I think it just means she likes you. C’mon, I’ll show you around town.”

Following his actions, you tugged your shoes on while you thought aloud. “I didn’t even do anything. Walked around her store like an idiot and nearly ran into her.”

You stepped out of the house behind him, waiting for his response. You had expected him to laugh and indeed confirm that you were an idiot (which would be twice that day, if you were keeping proper track), or come up with another quip to taunt you with, but he was quiet, pondering something.

“You have this…aura about you,” he eventually responded. “You’re different.”

“In what way?” You approached the topic carefully, wondering if that was a good or bad thing.

His shoulders lifted and dropped. “Dunno, I’m not good with words. You’re just different. You’re easy to like.”

The incline down from his house back to the village was easier than going up it, a slow slope that followed a mild curve. The road was smooth, free of cars. Those you had seen were parked along the streets below, and not often used from what you could tell. The walk gave you time to consider his words.

You’d heard them before, but nobody ever clarified how you differed from others. He said you were likable, so you chose to believe he meant it in a good way. You’d try to pry more information out of him at some point to sate your cautious curiosity.

“How long have you been here?” You asked instead to change the topic, then winced, remembering that he mentioned his family had been here for a long time.

“Eh,” he tilted his hand side to side a few times. “Maybe 15 or so years, including my baby years.”

Oh. Turns out you were…wrong?

“You weren’t born here?”

“No, I was,” he corrected. Ah, so you were. “I just spent a few school years in Tokyo before returning not too long ago.” Sort of.

“Oh, I see,” mindlessly, you took his hand when he offered it to help you step over a gap at the bottom of the hill. His palm radiated warmth, one you missed when he pulled away and continued leading you along. “Why’d you come back?”

“Missed home.” Your gaze met his when he shot you a glance from over his shoulder. “What about you, sweets? Where'd ya come from?” Upon your answer, he nodded. “Came a long way to get here, huh?”

It’s probably best if I don’t tell him why I came here. Not yet. Not ever. “You could say that,” you responded, stopping when he did. You were grateful that he didn’t push the topic.

He pointed towards something, and you angled forward to see around his body, listening carefully as he explained what was where as he guided you through the winding streets.

“Doctor lives there,” you raised a brow at the full body shudder he experienced. “She can get scary when she’s mad. Otherwise, chill person.”

“Noted.”

While you were curious about the doctor of this village, you had no intention of meeting her by ending up in her clinic after doing something moronic, like tripping on those stupid stones outside your front door. Or walking in purely to introduce yourself. That’d be weird.

As he pointed out various family homes, stores, and miscellaneous locations, he listed off names you definitely weren't going to remember anytime soon. You found it endearing that he knew everyone and shared some tidbits of gossip with you – “Auntie Furiko lives there and she totally has a grudge against Mirio-san for stealing her man.” – and he even imparted some knowledge about a few historical places and things in the village, such as the bridge over the river having been built some 400-odd years ago.

“It was originally built as a passage that only allowed humans through,” he explained. “Back then, cursed spirits were a common thing, so the founders here created a path that had a sort of invisible wall that cursed spirits and objects couldn't get through. Like a curtain.”

“Huh,” you responded plainly as you examined the bridge. “Couldn't the spirits just go through the river?”

His candytuft hair fluffed as he shook his head. “The veil goes around the entire village, the bridge was just there for convenience's sake,” he cocked his head towards you. “But those are just legends and stories. There's plenty of tales about jujutsu sorcerers that could see the cursed spirits and eradicate them. Some people still believe cursed spirits and sorcerers are a thing, and blame disasters, like earthquakes and tsunamis, on them.”

You raised a curious expression. “Do you believe in that?”

Satoru shrugged. “To me, it’s like believing in ghosts or demons. Even if they are real, there's no way they'd beat me,” of course, he said that last bit with full-bodied, unadulterated confidence. “I'm the best.”

A fond snort escaped you. An egomaniac as a new friend(?), that seemed exactly like the kind of trouble you'd get yourself into.

Your eyes shifted over to peer at the Wayo Kenchiko edifice situated higher up, reminding you of the wonder you felt when you first saw it.

You turned fully towards it and tugged on Gojo’s shirt to draw his attention to it as well, your interest taking precedence as you regarded it. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Hm?” He followed your line of sight. “The temple?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s technically a shrine,” he clarified. “It was built when the settlers first got here, dedicated to the wolves of the mountains.”

You squinted at him. “Wolves?”

He nodded eagerly. You never would have guessed him to be somewhat of a history buff. “Yep. Wolves are like…guardian dogs. They’re long gone now, but way back then, it's said they hunted alongside the settlers. Wolves are seen as messengers for mountain gods, so people would pray to them for safety, good hunts, and good harvests.”

You nodded as you followed along. “So you guys primarily farm here, then?”

“More or less. Though we do get a lot of imported stuff from the neighboring city, like the things in Granny’s store. We do mostly exports there. It’s where a lot of the people in this village work.”

“Really?” You frowned slightly. “Isn’t that city, like…an hour or so from here?”

He acceded and tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, why?”

“Just seems like a far way to go for work.”

Gojo shrugged as he started walking again, leading you further into town. “Keeps our village alive and well. We gotta keep up with the times, ya know?”

“Suppose so,” you acquiesced. “What do you guys farm here?”

“Ehh, rice and soya, I think,” the teasing twist of his lips had you preemptively rolling your eyes. “Surprised you didn’t know that, girlie; moving to a new place you know nothing about seems risky.”

“I didn’t exactly spend my time digging into the dirt of every single person here, y’know.”

He snickered. “I have dirt on everyone. You want some gossip?”

You huffed. “I’d rather meet someone first before you air their dirty laundry to me. I wanna have an unbiased palate.”

“Oh, so you want to meet the people in this lil’ valley of ours?”

“No,” you replied automatically, then pressed your lips tightly together at your minor flub. “I meant– it’s not– I’m just not–”

His boisterous laughter cut you off, simultaneously making your eye twitch and relief flood you.

“Relax, pretty girl,” he patted your head and you scowled. “I’m just teasin’ ya.”

“I’m seriously going to kill you.”

“Cute,” he crooned, and you groaned.

By the time you two walked up to your kind-of-not-really-grandmother’s shop, you were starting to become familiar with this particular section of road. From here, you knew how to get ‘home’, something you were dreading a touch. You weren’t looking forward to seeing the catastrophe that awaited you.

“And this is where I leave you for now,” he stopped with you in front of the store.

You frowned minutely, an uncomfortable pang of disappointment settling in your chest. “You’re not coming in?”

“Nah,” Gojo shook his head. “Got stuff I need to do. I’ll have someone pick you up from your house later, once you get your stuff. Gimme your phone for a sec.”

Your brows knitted together as you pulled out your phone and unlocked it for him. His fingers grazed yours as you passed the device, causing you to shiver at the temperature difference. They were so warm – or maybe your hands were cold. The touch lingered on your skin, your mind clinging to the tiny wisp of sensation.

The screen of your phone coming back into your line of sight brought you back from mildly zoning out. Almost uncertain, you took it back from him and peered at the screen to see what he did.

You snorted.

He set up his own contact in your address book, making it extra flashy and everything, too. ✨❤️Satoru❤️✨ graced your sight, and you couldn’t help but feel like that wasn’t the first time he had done this, the flamboyant clown.

“There,” he grinned. “Text me when you’ve got your stuff from your place.”

Stuffing the device back into your purse, your moue returned. “You want me to bring my shit to your house?”

His brow raised in response. “Uh, yeah? Were you just gonna leave it in that drab hut?”

“Well, I just thought I’d get a room at an inn or something tomorrow, so I don’t have to bother you.”

The usually bright expression on Satoru’s face fell somewhat, his voice taking a earnest tone when he said your name. The back of your neck tingled at the chime of your name passing through his lips. “You’re not a bother. Seriously, I have more space than I know what to do with. You can stay at my place as long as you need, I insist.”

His change in demeanor threw you for a loop. There was something lying under the surface of his countenance, hidden under layers of a façade wrapped too tightly around his inner being for you to ever hope to see what was beneath. The switch from goofy to sincere struck you as odd, and while you could have jumped back on the ‘he’s a psycho’ train of thought, his insistence didn’t resemble that of a hunter panicking about losing his prey.

Rather, it stemmed from a genuine offer made out of concern for your wellbeing. Sure, he could have been hiding some intentions (he definitely was), but he did show you the path to his house, convoluted as it was, at least some of its interior, and even the hot spring carved behind it. When you mentioned Granny, he seemed amused, rather than worried, and showed you around these confusing and interesting backwoods.

Thinking about the whole mess you had gotten yourself into, what with buying a house in a province you knew nothing about, and your limited funds, an uneasy heaviness sat in your gut. If he was suggesting an option of solace and shelter while you figured your shit out, you had very few reasons to decline.

A bit too readily, perhaps, you set aside any preconceived notions you had about him being suspicious and nodded. “Alright. Thank you, Gojo.”

“Just Satoru is fine,” that smug visage returned, all earlier signs of sobriety fading as quickly as they came. He turned back towards the way you came from, waving over his shoulder lazily. “See ya later, sweets.”

You spied on him for a while, until he disappeared around a bend, and sighed. Considering everything that happened so far, you surmised you were in way over your head.

The doorbell to Granny’s store pinged a sweet tune as you stepped in, finding the familiar scene nearly untouched from before. The air inside was pleasantly cool compared to outside, encouraging you to relax.

“Granny?” You called out as you stepped further in, glancing down the first aisle. “Are you here?”

“Ah!” The woman you were searching for called out from a separate room, appearing through a door you hadn’t noticed at the back of the store before, carrying a bento box. “Perfect timing, I finished that list for you.”

She beckoned you towards her as she rounded the counter, setting the bento box down on top of it and digging around for something under the tabletop before straightening and holding out a sheet of paper for you to take. Your fingers closed around the yellow notebook sheet and you peered down at the writing.

You silently thanked her for having a neat hand, as you were a tad rusty on your hiragana.

A row of names spanned down the paper, along with numbers next to each one. She had also included their specific occupations, making your life that much easier.

“Those are some folks in this village that can help you out. Unfortunately, most of them work in the city, so I fear you might not be able to fix up your house so soon,” Granny noted solemnly as began untying the beautifully designed furoshiki wrapped around, presumably, your food. “Let me call up a friend to find you a place to stay for the time being.”

“Oh, n-no, it’s fine, Granny!” You raised your hands in front of you. “I actually found somewhere to stay.”

She raised a brow at you. “With whom?”

The nervous laugh you let out was meek and not very reassuring. “I, uh…ran into Gojo Satoru, and he offered to house me. I was gonna find an inn, but…’

A perturbed expression morphed her stern features. “Really? Little Satoru offered to house you?”

Little was a gnarly stretch on her part, considering Satoru easily dwarfed both of you. “Is that bad?”

Granny sighed and shook her head as she finished undoing the cloth. “Not necessarily. He’s a troublemaker, that one, but…well, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him invite someone who isn’t one of his close friends to stay with him before.”

“Huh,” Your lips curled downwards. Were you actually so unique that he treated you differently than others? “He’s a bit…” You fumbled with your words, trying to find the right description. “Dramatic, for lack of a better word, but he showed me around and said he’ll have someone pick me up later.”

Her movements had slowed as she kept her eyes on you while popping open the box, studying you. She grabbed the pair of chopsticks in the lid and held the food towards you, which you took without fuss and with a quick ‘thank you’. The length of silence was beginning to unsettle you, so you tried to cover it by taking a bite of the katsu she prepared for you.

And maybe groaning tacitly because, fuck, was it good. Astounding, otherworldly, you would bet easy money that no 5-star restaurant could compare to Granny’s cooking.

Eventually, she spoke again, albeit puzzling you. “It’s no wonder you caught their attention. You are a beautiful, bright young woman.”

Your chopsticks hovered mid-bite. “‘Their’?”

“Mhmm,” the older lady nodded and tsked fondly as she grabbed a hand towel and wiped down a portion of the already spotless surface under her hands. “There’s two of them.”

A pin could drop in the room and it’d be deafening with the silence created by your shock. “There’s two Gojo’s?”

Her amusement turned into full blown laughter. “No, but there might as well be.” she corrected herself. “Those two are stick at the hip–”

The jingle of the bell over the door and the call of someone cut her off. You turned to watch as an attractive woman with mid-length brunette hair stepped into the room, carrying a box in her arms. Were all the people in this town contemptuously stunning? “Granny, I got the–” she stopped promptly upon seeing you. “You’re new.”

You nodded and your pseudo-grandmother introduced you.

“I see,” the brown-haired girl said with a nod. “Well, nice to meet you. I’m Ieiri Shoko, your local doctor and mortician. Just call me Shoko.”

So, this was the doc– wait, what?

Your eyes widened. “...Mortician?”

“Correct,” Shoko grunted as she dropped the hefty box on the floor with a grunt. “Which means you shouldn’t do something stupid or piss me off unless you want to end up in my morgue.”

Now you had two reasons to fear her, counting Satoru’s warning. “Duly noted.”

Your gaze followed her as she reposed against the nearby wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “When’d you get in?”

“Last night.”

“Helluva place to settle,” she commented. “What brought you here of all options?”

Settle.

I’m not so sure about that.

You chewed another piece of katsu and swallowed before answering. “Population. I’m not a very big people-person.”

A smile lifted her lips and she exhaled through her nose. “You and me both, girl. If you wanna be as far away from mass civilization as possible, this is the best place to be. Second only to going nomad and living in a forest alone like a witch.”

She sighed wistfully, and you had the sneaking suspicion that part of her yearned for that kind of lifestyle. “Looks like you’ve thought about it before.”

“I have, but this town is full of idiots that need me, or they would have died a long time ago.”

“Shoko, be nice,” Granny scolded half-heartedly, though you could spot the amusement in her eyes.

“What? I’m not wrong,” Shoko averred as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Just as she went to open it, Granny swatted her hands and gave her a scathing glare. “Not inside, Shoko. Really, go outside, at least.”

The doctor/mortician grumbled as she stuffed the box back where it came from, giving Granny a weak stink eye. “Anyways, welcome to this miniature province of ours, girl.”

“Thanks.”

“Mm,” she acknowledged, then began a lecture. “Avoid the west trail that goes past the village boundary and up the mountain. Nothing bad there, just has this weird smell to it. Probably haunted by some shit,” Shoko informed you. “Also muddy half the year. Grandma Ai can and will talk your ear off if you stop for more than a second. Good luck getting away from her if she ever catches you.”

You munched slowly as you listened to her advice intently. In any of the cities you stopped by, there weren’t really any communities – not like this, anyway – so you were fascinated by the dynamics these people displayed.

Yes, you were wary, sure, but learning about the town’s intricately interwoven families and neighbors didn’t mean you were getting close to anyone. If anything, it meant you could avoid attachments.

…Right?

Yes. Right.

“–Wednesday is trash collection day, but you might have to bring your trash closer into town if you’re too far out. Oh, and don’t go to the park on Thursday nights–”

You blinked yourself back into full awareness. Your safe haven the park was off limits now? “Wait, why?”

She humbled you with a deadpan that had you straightening your back, imploring you to obey. “Aoi and her boyfriend like to fuck there on Thursday nights.”

“Tch,” Granny clicked her tongue, glaring at Shoko. “Don’t be so crass. We have a guest.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” you waved off her concern. “I don’t mind. I appreciate the forewarning. Besides,” your lips curled into a playful smirk aimed towards Shoko, “I like when people are straightforward.”

She returned the grin with a sly one of her own. “You and I are gonna get along well.”

Similarly to Satoru, speaking to Shoko was easy. It felt like you were reconnecting with old friends – friends you knew when you were unfledged and barely remember anything about, but the link was there.

She nodded as your conversation concluded and pushed herself off the wall, evidently needing to return to where she came from. “Well, if you need me, you know where to– ah, wait, you don’t.”

Shoko patted down her body, presumably in search of her phone or a notepad, but you reassured her hastily. “No, it’s fine! I do, Gojo showed me around earlier.”

Her head whipped up so quickly, you worried she might have snapped it when you heard it crack. “Oh, god, you already met that idiot?”

The short laugh you let out was undignified. “Yep. He’s very noticeable.”

“You can say that again,” she grumbled. “Please don’t tell me he did something dumb and embarrassed himself, or weirded you out. Don’t pay attention to him, he’s just like that.”

“Well, he said I could stay at his place since the house I got is in…less than favorable condition.”

She stilled on the spot, her brows slowly coming together in a visage of utter confusion. “...What? He said you could stay with him?”

“Is he a murderer?” You questioned, only half joking. “I knew it.”

“No, no, he’s not, he’s just…” She turned her gaze to Granny. “Did you know about this?”

“I’m as surprised as you are,” Granny responded.

Your tummy shifted uneasily. “Is…that a bad thing?” You knew Granny said it wasn’t earlier, but you had to ask again.

“No, not really…” Shoko was not easing your nerves whatsoever. “Just unusual.”

“How come?”

She pulled her lips to the side in consideration. “Gojo Satoru is someone who…likes to hide things.”

“Oh, so he is a murderer.”

She demurred at your conclusion. “Last I checked, no. Regardless, he can be kind of a dick sometimes, so don’t take any of his more outlandish shit to heart, yeah?”

You bobbed your head loosely, your mind already off creating heinous conspiracy theories about your benefactor. “Yeah. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Mm, it’s no problem,” she approached you and held out her hand. “Gimme your phone, I’ll give you my number. You can text me if he tries to pull some shit with you.”

Getting a strong sense of déjà vu, you handed her your phone and watched as she punched in her number, then called her phone to get your number as well. Yours was back in your hands in record time, contact set to just her name.

“There. I gotta head off for now, it was nice to meet you, girl,” Shoko waved to you and Granny as she disappeared through the door.

Soft huffing from behind you had you peek at the woman. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Granny appeased. “Just seems you’ve had an eventful first day here, no?”

“No kidding,” you mumbled, pouting when you saw that you had finished your food. She took the empty box from you, pleased by it being practically licked spotless. “Thank you, it was really delicious.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed your meal,” she nodded. She must have put a lot of effort into it.

A thought occurred to you then. “Granny, do you know where I could possibly get a job?”

She raised a brow at you. “You want to work?”

“Well, yeah,” you scratched your cheek. “I’d try to find a job online, or the city, but I don’t really know what kind of work I can get with the first option, and I don’t have a car or anything for the second one.”

Her fingers cupped her chin in consideration. “How about you work here?”

“In your store?”

“Yes,” Wait, that easily? “I could always use more hands here. I’m getting up there in age, and my hands ache often. You’d be helping me a lot.”

“Are you sure…?” You gave her a concerned mien, subconsciously flicking your eyes down to her hands. “I don’t wanna take from you more than I already have.”

Granny merely brushed away your worries. “Nonsense. I could use the company, too.”

Okay, now you were starting to get suspicious. Things were lining up too well.

Well, you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but considered keeping your guard up.

“Alright,” you agreed, if somewhat hesitant. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Granny’s expression was heartwarming. “Wonderful! How about you take a week or so to settle in, then you can come start when you’re ready?”

“Well, I can start sooner. If you need the help anyway.”

“How about a few days?”

Stubborn old lady, you loved her already. “Fine, a few days,” you conceded, soughing. “Thanks again for the food, Granny. And for the job. I should probably get my stuff from my place and bring it to Gojo’s. You’ll be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, dear,” she shooed you away with her fingers. “Go on, now. I’ll see you soon.”

The warm air raised goosebumps up your arms as it swept over you upon leaving. It smelled distinctly sweet, a natural fragrance you quickly became fond of, enjoying it wholly during your walk back home. It had been shorter this time, the transition from defined road to coarse, packed dirt closer to town than you remembered it being.

What you were not fond of was your house, however. Your spite towards those stepping stones leading to the door growing worse as you avoided tripping over them again. The stench upon opening the front door also blew you back, making your entire face scrunch up.

“Why did I do this to myself,” you grumbled as you cynically walked in. Daylight made your perception so much worse. Every flaw was practically highlighted in bright, blaring white.

You mulled over convincing Satoru to just let you live with him and forget this damn thing ever existed to begin with.

Discovering your luggage where you left it, you cringed. It just kept getting worse. The floor was sticky everywhere. With what? Who knows. Did you want to know? Abso-fucking-lutely not. It took you less than a fraction of a second to decide to abandon your sleeping bag where it was.

Like hell were you going to peel it off the tacky wood, let alone use it again. Not like you needed to if you had somewhere to stay anyway, right?

Since when did you become such a wastrel?

Ugh.

With a shake of your head, you rescued your suitcase and luggage bag, letting them feel the same fresh air you could. It was the little things in life that made you so grateful for this pristine oxygen. And the bigger things in life that made you extra grateful, like Gojo Satoru and his stupidly large house.

Bless him for giving you the opportunity to sleep in an actual bed, rather than suffering in the outdoors. Him being a sneaky skunk notwithstanding.

Welp, here goes nothing. You tapped his contact, then the bubble under it. You were just going to assume he knew who was texting him.

This is the start of your conversation with ✨❤️Satoru❤️✨.

You, 16:24

Got my stuff

Alright, now you just wai–

✨❤️Satoru❤️✨, 16:24

(＾▽＾)

give it 10

The fuck.

Emoticon aside, the instant reply caught you off guard. Didn’t he say he had things to do? The day was just full of wonders, huh?

Ten minutes went by fast when you pulled up some random bad fanfiction to scroll through mindlessly. Your attention was drawn away from the half-written mess when a black sedan rolled up in front of your property, and you whistled low.

Why the hell was a rich boy like Satoru living in the sticks and not in some penthouse in the middle of Tokyo?

A spindly figure climbed out and bowed at you politely, hands clasped together in front of him. His voice was wispy, light and reserved. “Pleasure to meet you, miss. My name is Ijichi Kiyotaka, Gojo-san requested I bring you to his residence.”

Ah, he seemed so nervous. Poor guy.

You nodded, choosing not to comment on it. You were intimate with the feeling and didn’t like others pointing it out, you figured he wouldn’t, either. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

He shook his head as he popped the trunk and helped you tuck away your luggage. “It’s no trouble at all. Though, admittedly, it is nice to not have to drive far out this time.”

“Oh?” You questioned as he opened the back door for you and oh, my, were those leather seats? The car was lavish both inside and out, and probably cost more than you and your shoddy lil’ shack combined. You waited until he got into the driver’s seat, taking the extra few seconds to admire the car that you definitely should not have been in as it was clearly too high class for you, before continuing. “Do you usually have to drive to the city?”

“Yes,” Ijichi confirmed, starting up the car with a smooth purr that you barely heard. Leave it to the wealthy to find the best of the best in any category, uncaring of prices. “I’m normally just a chauffeur for the Gojo household.”

You bobbed your head in understanding, peering out of the tinted window to watch everything move by. The traditional architecture was beautiful, something you admired. It made your house stick out a bit like a sore thumb, considering the more western design; you pondered why it was built like that.

The twisting road leading up the mountainside began and ended all too soon, the whole trip lasting less than 5 minutes total, your destination completed with Ijichi parking outside of the mansion.

Ever the gentleman (though, he might have been resolute in helping you with your belongings directly due to fear of some kind of punishment looming over his head), he took your things and led you into the house. “This way, please. I’ve already set up your room for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you murmured, taking this chance to gawk at everything more properly. Frankly, it smelled rich inside, you didn’t want to think about how expensive even just the vase on the coffee table was.

The sliding of a door signaled your journey’s end. Ijichi bowed and ushered you inside first, though you kind of wished he went in before you, because you were positively floored and most definitely seemed like an idiot with your jaw hanging open. What the fuck? Satoru said this was a spare room? You were expecting maybe, oh, I don’t know, normal guest room things?

Not the epitome of a deluxe hotel for fuck’s sake. The room was at least twice the size of the one you slept in yesterday, the bed was glamorous (queen size, too, Christ), the bedding laid so nicely that you debated sleeping on the ground a second time, just to avoid messing it up. Especially because the fluffy rug at the foot of the frame was so downy, you wanted to drown in it.

There’s no way this was real. Someone had to have been playing a joke on you. You spun to watch Ijichi as he carefully set your suitcase and bag against the wall by the door, waiting for him to rip the proverbial, and likely not fluffy, rug from under your feet.

Instead, he bowed once more, eyes closed. “Should you need anything, you may call for me. The restroom and bathroom are on the right when you exit. Please, feel free to bathe, if you wish. Make yourself at home. Gojo-san is out right now, but will be back by evening.”

You barely stuttered out a semi-coherent thank-you as he left, sliding the door shut behind him and leaving you in this splendor.

Surely this was a joke. You dreaded the inevitable turn, expected the door to open to a cackling Gojo Satoru as he wheezed his lungs out and pulled some ‘I can’t believe you fell for it!’ bullshit.

But it didn’t happen.

For however long you stood there, staring holes through the closed entrance, nobody came to reveal this was all an elaborate joke, with you playing the unsuspecting and dumb victim. You laggardly let out the breath you had been holding and poked around the room with cautious hope. It really was spectacular, but you truly wondered how long Gojo would let you stay here.

By the gods, you were tired of thinking, though, and a shower would be heavenly. You could worry about everything after you were scrubbed dirt-free.

…Assuming you wouldn’t get jumped in the shower instead of the bedroom.

“You’re being paranoid,” you scolded yourself under your breath as you opened your suitcase to grab a change of clothes. But, really, could anyone blame you? You were sure someone else would have felt the exact same way you did.

Unless they were a professional freeloader or something.

Your soap and tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner were so sad compared to everything else around you. You should have checked if Granny’s store had any bath products.

The bathroom was just as luxurious and fully stocked as everything else in this damn estate. Dark, rich wood encompassed the room; a sink was to your left with a sparkling mirror above it, an open shower to your right towards the back, and the chef-d’œuvre of it all: the sunken bathtub at the end. A frosted glass window was situated behind it, shades partially lowered to allow natural light in through the bottom.

Fuck, you were so out of your depth.

But were you going to deny enjoying such riches at least once in your life? Hell no.

You turned to set your stuff down on the counter space by the sink, glancing towards the row of very expensive bottles of different types of cleansers lined up against the wall, and the note in front of them.

Grasping it, you saw it had your name on it, written by hand. You flipped it over to see the short message left behind.

These are yours, use them as you please

~Satoru ♥

Ohoho, fancy products you could only ever scowl at forlornly at the store whenever you saw them, fantasizing about using them, though ultimately being shunned by the price tag? Fuck feeling apprehensive, you were damn well going to use those and indulge in feeling and smelling like a queen.

You’d never stripped faster in your life. You barely had half a mind to fold your clothes somewhat neatly and set them on the counter, rather than scattering them all across the floor as you stumbled out of your socks and hopped to the shower on one foot.

Even the millions of knobs and stall-less design couldn’t deter your avidity, each one subjected to random twisting until you figured it out.

As soon as the bottles were on the recessed shelf under the showerhead, you loped under the hot water and groaned, planting your forehead against the cool wall whilst it poured down your back. You practically turned into putty, all your sore and tense muscles unwinding noticeably. The shower pointed out exactly how sleeping on the floor in your own house jacked up every part of your body, because ow.

You honestly believed you could stand there forever, reluctant to leave, but that bathtub was calling to you.

So you grabbed the body wash first and flipped it over to read the label.

Oatmeal and almonds. Mmmh sweet fuck, you could dissolve into a puddle. It smelled heavenly, and you were giddy out of your skin knowing you were about to smell like that, too. It felt so silky-smooth on your palm, the perfume automatically coating you as you rubbed it in and savored the sensation. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to go back to normal, poor-person soap without lamenting the loss of this.

You can’t miss what you don’t know, and boy were you going to miss this if you had to leave it behind. Satoru did say it was yours to use and keep, though, didn’t he? Maybe you could yoink them when your place was all fixed up and you had to leave.

Suds coated your body in a thick layer of iridescent, white bubbles, flowing down the planes and curves of your figure with the water, rinsing every bit of your body to superb asepsis. Your hair had never known such extravagance when your fingers glided right through your locks, leaving them soft and addicting to touch. You understood now how Satoru’s was that fluffy.

You wanted to touch his hair, too.

Shaking your head to shoo away any very wholesome thoughts, you squeezed the excess water from your hair and turned off the shower, shivering at the sudden chill now that the perpetually toasty mist wasn’t surrounding you anymore.

Careful to avoid slipping, you tip-toed over to the tub and knelt down beside it, reaching for the handles. Hot water burst forth from the tap, rushing to fill the basin, and you noted how deep it was, contemplating if your knees would peek out from the surface if you sat with them bent. You had to be extra vigilant to prevent falling asleep in it and drowning.

You could drown after you got to take a dip in the hot spring in the backyard. Of course, you’d prefer not having to drown at all, but if you had to choose, you’d opt for the hot spring.

Daydreams of swimming in it played behind your eyes as you sank into the tub with a delighted sigh. What tranquility, lucking out like this. You didn’t know what god to thank, if any, but you’d happily grovel on your hands and knees to show your immense gratitude. Just getting a chance to live (well, bathe) in splendor for a single day was enough to fulfill some innate, deep desire you had inside.

Now that you had a moment away from the hectic day, you let yourself recount everything that happened, and question how the hell you got here.

Not 24 hours ago, you had arrived, a poor fool that nearly kicked the bucket on your own front porch, and since then, you were sort of adopted by a grandmother that fed you instead of throwing her shoe at you, met an eccentric, wealthy man who took after a deity ripped straight from mythos, and landed yourself not only a place to stay, but a place with said deity.

“What the hell…” You mumbled to yourself as you lowered yourself until only your eyes remained above the water, blowing bubbles.

How did you get here?

Was this some sort of punishment? Give you a taste of the blest, then wrench it away from you? Karmic cruel and unusual castigation?

You grumbled underwater and lifted your head back up to breathe. Of course, you couldn’t help being paranoid, all of this was way too good to be true. Like some sort of game show–

Oh, god–

You sat up pin-straight and covered your chest, scanning the bathroom ceiling and walls for any hidden cameras. You scoured every surface, squinting extra hard to spot potential blinking lights or unusually-reflective circles.

Nada.

You went boneless, lounging against the back of the tub as you exhaled heavily.

You had probably been in the bath too long. Your fingers were starting to get pruny, and your brain all jumbled up with anxiety and skepticism.

Sluggishly, you pulled yourself out and dried off while the tub drained, pulling on your clean clothes with a relieved hum. You couldn’t remember the last time you treated yourself like this, if ever.

You heard someone speaking from beyond the hallway, so after dropping off your old clothes in your room, you ventured out through the living room, where you found none other than your savior, chatting away with someone on the phone. He turned to you and instantly lit up.

“Ha-hey!” Satoru grinned and waved you over after quickly ending his call, laughing through his greeting. “You got here safe?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, moving to sit beside him at the kitchen island. “Ijichi-san is good at his job.”

The towheaded boy snickered. “Good, or else I would have flicked his forehead.”

“So, you’re the reason he looks so anxious all the time,” you scolded him, then apologized. “Sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean to drag you out of your conversation.”

“Bah,” he brushed it off. “No big deal, wasn’t anything important. So, settling in okay? Seems you already got familiar with the soaps ‘n’ stuff I got you, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly, lifting your arm to sniff at your wrist. “They smell so good, where did you get them?”

He planted his chin on his palm. “Nowhere you can afford.”

Your eyes narrowed into a sharp, unamused glare. “Wow, thanks.”

His cheeks crinkled his hues, and you realized he was still wearing his shades indoors. The glare of the sun no longer turned them into mirrors, allowing you to partially see through them, but the deep ocean hue of the lenses prevented you from deciphering the exact color of his irises.

What an abnormal choice of glasses. You knew people wore circular shades – they made them for a reason – but all the people you’d seen wearing them could never pull off the style.

Satoru was different, though. They suited him flawlessly; refined and dignified, yet boyish at the same time, just like the bearer.

“Let me know when you run out,” he said. “I’ll get you more.”

You jolted in surprise. “Oh! No, no, it’s fine! I’d feel bad using them all up, I don’t want to imagine the price tag…”

He pouted at you. “Why? You saw the note I left you, didn’t you? They’re yours, I got them specifically so you could use them.”

You worried your bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t do anything I’m not sure of.”

Well, that’s all you needed to concede. “Alright. Thank you, I like them a lot.”

His moue instantly turned into a brilliant, cheek-aching smile. “I’m glad! Had me worried I picked the wrong stuff.”

His giddiness was contagious, making you giggle. “No! Not at all, I’m just– I’ve never seen the brand before.” It being a Japanese brand notwithstanding.

“Well, duh,” he rolled his eyes as he hopped off his stool and sauntered over to the fridge. “They don’t sell this kind of stuff in normal stores.”

“Where’d you get them from, then?”

“Made Ijichi fetch ‘em.”

You sighed heavily. “Poor guy. You work him to the bone, don’t you?”

He humphed as he withdrew something from the fridge – bento boxes, you recognized. He placed one down in front of you, and took his spot at the island back. “He’s fine. Gets paid well. It’s not like I make him go to the city for every little whim I have.”

You huffed as you pulled off the lid to your box, your mouth instantly salivating at the food within. You barely had the conscious thought left to clap your hands and murmur ‘itadakimasu’, as well as mentally slap yourself when you recalled that you had forgotten to do the same with Granny.

You were able to restrain the moan of delight this time, unlike in front of the old lady, but damn was it hard to.

“Fuck…”

Gojo cackled beside you. “It’s good, I know.”

“Who made this?” You questioned, hand covering your mouth as you chewed. Ijichi must have been a good chef, too.

The man gave you a cocky smirk. “I did.”

…Hah?

You regarded him flatly, disbelieving. “Funny.”

“I’m serious!” He glowered. “Is it so hard to believe I can cook?”

“A little,” you confessed around a bite of sausage. “Rich boys don’t usually know how to cook.”

His gaze pierced directly through you, brooding as he stuffed his mouth. “I’m never gonna cook for you again, just for that.”

Oh, so he was gonna do that?

Hm, might as well play along.

You set down your chopsticks and turned to face him, slapping your hands together as you lowered your head to beseech his mercy. “Please, O’ Honored One, Gojo Satoru-sama! Forgive this witch her foolish words!”

He lifted his chin, judging you through his round shades with the pretense of a king adjudicating his subject’s worth. A few seconds passed before he nodded in approval. “Better. You’re forgiven.”

“Yay,” you laughed, immediately going back to eating. “It is really good though, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he responded, virtually inhaling his serving – not that you were any better.

“Where’d you learn how to cook?”

He swallowed and paused, speaking a fraction softer. “My mom taught me.”

Maybe a touchy subject. You noted it as something to not approach, instead choosing to compliment them both. “She taught you well.”

The boxes were empty in the blink of an eye, and you were both saying ‘gochisousama’ with a satisfying puff.

He grabbed the chopsticks and both boxes, placing them in the sink and filling them with water. “So you did research Japan a bit, eh? Knowing our customs.”

“I believe it comes with the territory of learning the language, yes,” you hopped off the stool, reclining against the counter. You winced minutely when your spine popped.

“How long have you been speaking Japanese?”

“Ehh,” you tilted your hand diagonally a few times. “I learned it a while back. I was studying abroad at the time. Didn’t really know it’d come in handy now, though.”

He dried off his hands with the hand towel nearby and cocked his head to the side. “Oh? You weren’t planning to move here?”

“Not…really,” you shrugged and rubbed the back of your neck. You had to tip-toe this line of conversation carefully.

He grinned, leaning forward to meet your gaze head-on as if he had just hit some sort of jackpot. “So you are running from something after all.” Fuck. “Well? What is it? Mafia?” No. “Loan sharks?” No. “Robbed somethin’ big?” No. “Exes?”

…Sort of.

“Let’s go with exes.”

“You’re quite the mysterious woman,” he chuckled low, voice taking on an evil little rasp. “Makes me wanna open you up.”

You batted your eyes, your brain lagging as your cheeks heated up because what the fuck, real men weren’t supposed to be this hot, and you were not supposed to be this asthenic in the knees just because he had a handsome face and an absurdly attractive voice that decided to say the most deviant shit.

“And you’re a terrible, terrible man, Gojo Satoru,” you admonished to cover your nonplussed emotions.

“Mhm, mhm,” he nodded in complete agreement. “I’m a terrible, terrible man that decided to take you in out of the goodness of my heart.”

You sighed. “You’re going to use that against me, aren’t you.”

“Absolutely, I’m never letting you live this down.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, earning yourself a smirk hidden poorly behind an offended scoff. An oddly domestic sentiment perched in your center, just beneath your breastbone. A decent meal and the slow end to an intense day had you yawning behind the back of your hand.

He yawned after you, the action infectious, and moped like a kid that wasn’t ready to go to bed.

The emotional weight of everything was coming down on you, and you craved for nothing more than to pass the fuck out under those incredibly plush and cozy looking blankets.

“Think that’s our cue,” you grumbled and rubbed the corner of your eye with your knuckle. “Or mine, anyway. I’m ready to conk out and sleep for, like, a century.”

He chuckled lazily, the noise husky and low. It wasn’t particularly late, no, but you felt like you’d been struck with a bus filled with mental and physical tax collected over a great deal of time. He waved you off, turning to strut down the hall opposite of the one you came through, and left you with a still cheery farewell.

Finally.

You well-nigh sprinted back to your room to nab your toiletries and sped through your simple nightly routine, impatient and antsy to dive into that queen-sized mattress. It’s not that you disliked Gojo’s company, quite the opposite, actually, but you were tired.

Usually, you tried to put off sleep until your body gave out in the early hours before morning, uncaring for the dreams that inevitably spawned, no matter how little or how much sleep you got.

But now?

Those sheets were hailing you.

You couldn’t brush your teeth quick enough. Your face was practically still damp with your moisturizer as you dived under the duvet and keened. You’d never known such opulence in your life.

Your legs kicked with glee as you snuggled in, squeaking and curling on your side and clutching the fabric of the blanket tightly in your hands to ensure it went nowhere while you pranced around in dreamland. Heaven. Pure and simple. Heaven with the fragrance of new pin laundry and your body wash, that held your head on the coziest lap, that hugged your form and incontinently coaxed you under the waves of hypnotic slumbering.

Comfort surrounded you. The mattress underneath you was the ideal level of firmness, the blankets were warm without being overbearingly hot, and being in such a neat environment swiftly lulled you into a far easier and more satisfying sleep than you’ve had in a long time.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

#Tether Me #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #satosugu x reader #chimera writes

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karasukarei · 2 months

Text

Wind Breaker Drama CD vol. 1 – Fuurin, Memories of a Summer (Part 2)

Part 1 here!

Translation masterpost here!

Scene 3 – 5:00~6:48

Ume: Whew! The sea feels great!

Sakura: It doesn’t feel as cold as I expected, it’s more like lukewarm.

Ume: It’s already considered hot like this! One of these days it’s going to be as hot as a bath! (t/n: I’m not quite sure if this line is correct, feel free to let me know if there’s a more accurate translation!)

Hiiragi: When you go deeper it can suddenly get cold, so be careful there.

Nirei: There’s also quite a lot of fish!

Sakura Ume (edit: thanks @/pikiiro!): Oh, really! *licks lips* They look delicious…

Tsuge: … I’m catching it. *virtuous splashing*

Hiiragi: If you do that they’re not going to come.

Nirei: Hm, where’s Tsugeura-san? We were together just now.

Sakura: Huh? I don’t know.

Hiiragi: Isn’t Tsugeura doing that?

Tsuge: *virtuous splashing* RAWRRRR BURAH BURAH BURAH BURAH

Sakura: He’s swimming really seriously…

Ume: Ohhh! He’s really good at the butterfly stroke!

Tsuge: *very virtuous splashing* RAWRRRRRRRR

Nirei: He’s really fast at the backstroke too!

Tsuge: *extremely virtuous splashing* RAWR! RAWR! RAWR!

Sakura: Now is the breaststroke…

Hiiragi: He’s the first guy I’ve seen doing 50m laps in the sea.

Ume: Great! I’m gonna try too!

Hiiragi: Don’t go so deep into the sea! (Edit: I think this is more accurate than the original translation)

Nirei: What should we do? Hmm… Sakura-san! There’s a banana boat there!

Sakura: Huh? Why is the boat in the shape of a banana?

Nirei: Why… I never thought about it before, but it’s not well-balanced. The boat is pulled by jet skis, and it’s really hard to make sure you don’t capsize!

Sakura: … Is that supposed to be fun?

Nirei: Yes! It’s pretty fast, so it’s very thrilling! Hmm? Do you want to try?

Sakura: Huh?! Trying it out? It’s not like I wanted to do it! (t/n: I can literally hear Sakura blushing LMAO)

Scene 4 – 6:48~8:24

Nirei: Yeah!! The banana boat is so fun! (t/n: just an FYI, banana boats are pretty popular amongst couples in Japan ^_^)

Sakura: Well, it wasn’t as bad as a I thought-

Nirei: You say that, but weren’t you screaming a lot?

Sakura: asdjfhiafh shut up!

Nirei: Hehe! Oh, Sakura-san, your shoulders are really red, are you ok?

Sakura: … It stings a little.

Nirei: Did you not put on sunscreen?

Sakura: I don’t have any. Eh, what’s that?

Nirei: Where our stuff is? Yes, there seems to be something built there…

Sakura: What’s this huge thing?!

Nirei: It’s a sandcastle! And it’s so detailed!

Suo: It’s well-made isn’t it?

Kiryuu: Welcome back both of you~ (t/n: the way he says this is so CUTE)

Nirei: Did the two of you make this?

Suo: Nope, Kiryuu-kun did it!

Kiryuu: I was bored after I finished my login bonuses!

Nirei: You’re so skilled!

Sakura: Amazing…

Kiryuu: Ori? Are you perhaps… complimenting me? (t/n: so cute…)

Sakura: I-I’m not complimenting you!

Kiryuu: I’m not being serious~ (t/n: I’m not actually sure if he’s referring to himself or to Sakura; it can also mean that Sakura is not being honest about his feelings)

Umemiya: Oiiiii~

Kiryuu: Oh, Ume-chan senpai and the rest are back!

Tsuge: Hey hey, look at this!

Suo: That’s one nice watermelon!

Nirei: What happened?

Hiiragi: Umemiya won this from a beach flag competition. (t/n: I think it’s something like capture the flag)

Sakura: Beach flag?

Nirei: As expected of Umemiya-san!

Sugi: Of course.

Sakura: What are you doing here?

Sugi: Huh?!

Kiryuu: How are going to cut it?

Ume: Wait hang on, since we’ve come out all the way to the beach, let’s do it! Watermelon splitting!

Scene 5 – 8:25~11:46

Hiiragi: We’ll tie it here… Right, that’s good.

Sakura: I, I can’t see anything.

Suo: The first person trying will be Sakura-kun!

Nirei: Sakura-san! You can do it!

Sakura: I just need to hit the watermelon with this right?

Ume: The supporters will be me and Tsugeura. Let’s do our best!

Tsuge: Sakura-kun, we’ll direct you to the watermelon, so listen caaaaarefully!

Sakura: Ououo, yes, got it!

Nirei: Are you ready? Start!

Ume: Sakura! Straight, straight! Just keep going straight, like dadada!

Sakura: Straight? Dadada??

Tsuge: Daaa, not there! Sakura-kun, first go pyoi to the right!

Sakura: Huh? Right? Pyoi???

Kiryuu: Ahaha! Sakura-chan is going the wrong way! (t/n: WHY IS HIS LAUGH SO CUTE HEREEEE)

Hiiragi: These guys can’t be supporters.

Nirei: They’re just using onomatopoeia…

Suo: If they were compatible with each other that would’ve been great!

Ume: Left over there, then go zuitto kankan in front!

Tsuge: More guwottto to the right!

Sakura: Hnghhhhh…

Nirei: Sakura-san seems close to snapping…

Ume: That’s right! Gyatto in front, then go pyon to your right!

Tsuge: There to your left, just go bwatto!

Sakura: DAAAAAAAAA I CAN’T DO THIS *rips blindfold off*

Nirei: Ahh… He removed his blindfold…

Suo: Right, Sakura has failed!

Ume: Man, we were so close!

Sakura: Aren’t you guys too lousy at giving instructions?!

Tsuge: Sorry about that Sakura-kun!

Ume: Next is… Sugishita!

Sugi: Hmph! (t/n: you can hear the sparkles in his eyes) Yes!

Nirei: Wow! He’s taking part!

Suo: But, he seems quite scary!

Kiryuu: Waow, when Sugi-chan is holding the stick, it looks like a weapon! (t/n: thanks Felix for the correction!)

Hiiragi: Sugishita, stop holding the stick like you’re helping with the plants, it’s scary. (t/n: I’m not sure if this line is correct; if you have a better translation feel free to let me know!)

Suo: The supporters will be me and Kiryuu-kun!

Kiryuu: Yoroshiku~ (t/n: so cute…)

Ume: Are you ready? Start!

Sugi: *grunts*

Suo: Sugishita-kun! First let’s start by going straight!

Kiryuu: Ohh, it seems he’s listening! Sugi-chan! Go a little to your right!

Sugi: *grunts*

Sakura: He’s going in the wrong direction.

Kiryuu: Orya, he can’t hear?

Suo: Sugishita-kun! To your right, your right!

Ume: Ah, seeing the first years work together, really makes you think!

Hiiragi: Working together, huh? By the way, can he really not hear anything?

Kiryuu: Eh, isn’t Sugi-chan coming this way?

Tsuge: He’s walking straight without any problems at all.

Suo: It’s like he can completely see.

Nirei: It feels like he’s walking towards Sakura-san…

Sakura: Wh, what are you- Don’t come here!

Sugi: Hngh *swings bat*

Sakura: WAH! That was dangerous! What were you thinking of doing?!

Sugi: Tch.

Suo: Missed by a hair’s breadth, as expected of Sakura-kun!

Kiryuu: If he got hit that’ll be bad~

Nirei: Can Sugishita-san really not see?! That was on purpose wasn’t it?

Sugi: One more try. Hngh-

Nirei: AHH! Stop, stop! STOP

#windbreaker #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker #wind breaker anime #wbktimely #i must say that i simp much more for anime kiryuu than manga kiryuu #tosshi is so cute...

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utilitycaster · 1 month

Note

This question is entirely in good faith: I’m currently watching campaign 2 for the first time, and you’ve said multiple times that you are a mighty nein girlie above all else. I am enjoying it, I think it’s fun and characters are great. But I find myself preferring campaign 1 more. I know this is a minority opinion as everyone loves campaign 2, but I just can’t really find myself embracing it the same way. What is it that draws you about the MN?

So I do want to preface this with the statement that I think it’s extremely valid to prefer Campaign 1 to Campaign 2. Plenty of people whom I respect do! The Mighty Nein happen to appeal to a lot of my sensibilities specifically but I don’t expect it to appeal to everyone else in the same way.

I also want to note that while it's true Campaign 2 is the fan favorite, firstly, the correct response if you prefer something that isn't the fan favorite is to commend yourself on rarified taste, and secondly, statistics are a funny thing. It's worth remembering that what you see as the Critical Role Active Fandom mostly doesn't include people who dearly loved Campaign 1, didn't like Campaign 2, and drifted away entirely in 2018; whereas people who loved C2 and didn't click with C3 are a little more likely to be around just because it's been less time and because there's more non-main-campaign stuff to hang around for (ie, people who haven't kept up with C3 might still have watched EXU Calamity or Downfall, or might be interested in Midst or Candela stuff, or are hanging out for TLOVM/Nein Animated reasons). You are not seeing Every Person Who Ever Liked Critical Role; you're seeing this segment in time.

ANYWAY. Getting to the actual point, I think Campaign 2 is my favorite because I think I take a fairly holistic view of fiction. I have my favorite characters and ships and themes and all that, but it is difficult for me to enjoy something if I don't enjoy a significant portion of it. I can't just watch for one blorbo, because the character should feel deeply rooted in a world, and have a plot that engages with who they are. This is what drew me to D&D and actual play in the first place!

Campaign 2 is the CR campaign that, in my opinion, achieves this to the highest degree. Hilariously, if you see the campaigns as a trilogy, while usually the middle of a trilogy gets slammed for being all moving pieces and no resolution, that actually works out great for a D&D game. Campaign 1 had the responsibility of introducing an entire world that was being built as the game went on (and introducing the players to TTRPGs); Campaign 3 is the realization of all that plot set up. Campaign 2 gets to explore, build out the world, and delve into characters who are inextricable from their setting, and that's what I love.

I started with Campaign 2, but decided to start catching up on Campaign 1 concurrently as I watched C2 week to week, and I started this quite early and finished C1 in about 4-5 months, and I happen to remember that I watched C2 episode 12 and an early Briarwoods Arc C1 episode back to back, and at the time, I preferred Campaign 1. Campaign 1 has its rocky starts, but the cast had already found their characters (even if the mechanics were being ironed out still) and there were very clear tasks. Early Campaign 2, while I still enjoy it, has a lot of milling about and aimless fucking around, and, understandably, the cast is still figuring a lot out. If you put, say, the Nein in Alfield next to Vox Machina at the Briarwoods Banquet? Yeah, one of these is stronger.

The thing is, that aimless fucking around led to character moments, which is the absolute heart of why the Nein are my favorites, and why I think many others love them as well. Without a clear mission or benefactor, this party had to figure out an identity and what they wanted to do, and in doing so, we got incredible moments between pretty much every party member. Vox Machina has no shortage of incredible conversations, but, for example, Keyleth and Scanlan just straight up don't interact one-on-one very much. You can't point to something like that in the Nein. I also think the fact that none of the characters knew each other terribly well helped with this. I've brought that up to contrast with the bonds in Campaign 3; it's not a bad thing to have a person your character comes in with and knows well, but much as I adore a twins conversation, the reason those conversations are so good are because Vex and Vax both spend a lot of time with other people as well. With the Mighty Nein, everyone has to do that because really, with Yasha gone half the time and then with Molly's death early on, we've got Fjord and Jester (have known each other like a month longer than anyone else) and Caleb and Nott (six-ish months and they're both hiding a lot.)

I really do get if people prefer that Vox Machina has two clear missions (with plenty of fuck around time built in) to start, the show-stopping Briarwoods arc next, and then the Chroma Conclave, especially watching after the fact - I am not sure how C2 is if you binge it vs. watch week to week, and it may suffer from a binge watch whereas C1 honestly might benefit. But the payoff is so great; you do not get the interpersonal relationships the Nein eventually have with each other without that early need for them to set their own direction.

Moving on from there, I love the setting of Wildemount and how much slow travel there is (which, to be fair, Vox Machina didn't have because that was all pre-stream; the Nein started teleporting at level 9 and Campaign 1 starts with the party at level 8). I love, as I mentioned, how tied to the continent everyone is and how relevant that is to most of their stories. I do think Molly's abrupt and unfair death early in the story is a crucial part of who the Nein are, and serves as a defining moment that is impossible to replicate but is very meaningful to me.

Also, and this is getting into some very idiosyncratic stuff: I love wizards and clerics and paladins and we get all those. I like gruff or overly formal characters with tragic backstories and good hearts and that's most of the party (unsurprisingly, Vex and Percy, in that order, are my favorite VM members). As someone who is constantly fighting the "Dump WIS not INT" fight, the fact that the Mighty Nein is fairly smart and has multiple characters specifically interested in history and politics and lore is right up my alley (the twins and Percy and Scanlan in C1 serve a similar purpose, and the fact that C3 doesn't have anyone really like this...shows).

I also like that the Mighty Nein are never famous, and I think some people don't like that. For all they are heroes of the Dynasty and end up with connections in the Empire, they aren't council members or tied to anyone specific, and this floating mercenary nature means they are setting their own pace. The only part where I think things get frustrating after some of the rockier early days is when they're hunting down Obann, and that's only a few episodes. While Molly's death is a defining moment, what is honestly a more defining moment is a few episodes earlier, when they decide against the multiple institutionally-backed job offers and decide to take a couple of jobs that will get them out of the city. I think it was jarring for people used to Vox Machina, with their duties to the council of Tal'Dorei, who dedicated a third of their campaign to saving the continent from dragons; but the Mighty Nein's greatest duty is always to each other and to becoming better people. The focus is always on them. Yes there are fetch quests, yes there are NPCs who give them some unavoidable tasks, and yes people use the term "player agency" in weird ways all the time; but the Mighty Nein are, I think, the zenith of what a player agency driven campaign can be. The story is, above all else, theirs and theirs alone.

I don't know if there will be a Campaign 4 - I'm a bit more sanguine about the prospect than I was earlier in C3 - but for what it's worth I don't think Campaign 2 is irreplicable. Or rather, it can't be replicated, obviously, but I think they could do another campaign that is deeply tied to its setting and lets the party choose their own adventure in the same way. It just takes a little more prep up front, and a little more flexibility once it actually starts. If there is a campaign 4, I really hope they do it in that same style.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #mighty nein

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extrajigs · 1 year

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NEW WORLDBUILDING PROJECT BABYYY!!!

Concept: World covered entirely in microbial mat and whose macrofauna are pentapods. One of which is a sophont.

1. The world itself is a little smaller than Earth, but is also the third planet from it’s star and has two moons. It has a pretty even climate with no icecaps due to it’s very thick hothouse atmosphere, even despite it’s p crazy axial tilt. It’s atmosphere is similar to Earths but contains a lot more water vapor and methane and less nitrogen. The surface of the planet is covered almost entirely in microbial mat, to the point where actual ground is buried miles deep and the world would be entirely covered in ocean if not for the mats. The only ‘land’ comes from mounds of organic material built up from the sea floor that have grown large enough to finally breach the surface. Names Planet: Backera Bigger Moon: Milcer Smaller Moon: Daunverr Sun: Sentil

As for the macrobiology I’m still working it out but right now there are two basic groupings of terrestrial pentapods. Subject to very likely change.

First are the Eyebacks. Who are most known for uh, having eyes on their back. They also have their gills open on their neck and need to submerge time and again in water to breathe correctly.

2. That group includes this lil beastie, the Foxtrot, who lives up to their namesake being a crafty lil ankle biter. They are a fast lil critter who prowls the coast for small fast moving prey. They are also quite capable swimmers and swap between land and sea whenever they need to grab a snack or avoid becoming one.

3. Another Eyeback is the aquatic Mynar, who uses their big ass nose horn to scrape away at the mats and stir up fresh food. Generally they stay in water only a few feet deep, moving on to find the freshest growth. Their life style leaves them with a coating of their own though, stained by the food they stir up.

Second group are the now tripodial Elytra’s, who have badass lil beetle backs, and have lifted their front two limbs up to use for object manipulation. They are terrestrial but still rely on water for their tadpole larval stage.

4. This is called a Thwap, because they are very aggressive and use those first set of limbs for smacking anything that makes them even slightly uncomfortable. These are predators that focus on terrorizing smaller prey, loosely associating in groups of 3-10 individuals.

5. The SOPHONT!! I have no idea what to name these guys, so ideas are welcome! I just knew I wanted to give ‘em big ole eyes. They are a omnivorous people descended from hypercarnivorous ancestors. Their culture is centered around large families, usually a ‘wife’ and their many ‘husbands’, but the main thing to set them apart from the rest is the amount of care put into raising their offspring. They will have large pools dedicated to their lil babies until they’re ready to be walking around. Not super advanced technologically since y’know, iron and other metals is somewhat inaccessible. But maybe that’ll change, still thinking of how I want to set up the planet.

More to come, I want to develop the biology of the mats a lot more. I got hella good ideas for some biomes I want.

#new alien time #xenobiology #worldbuilding #speculative biology #spec bio #still working on mirum n the abbys but also wanted a truly alien setting to build #aliens #pentapods #art

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 2 months

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Every Episode of Miraculous Ladybug Season 5 Ranked (Part 1)

(Meme made by @eddo-tensei)

I'd like to apologize for this post taking so long, and my lack of activity this year in general. I've had a lot of things going on. I've been trying to search for a new career, I've been taking on more hours at work, I've started working out more, and I might be considering going back to school to pursue one of my career options. I've been very busy, and I know this isn't an excuse for the lack of content. I'm going to try making more posts on this blog when I can, because after this ranking post and the movie review, I won't have as many big projects to work on. With that being said, let's get to the main event.

I had very few positive things to say about Season 5, and it'll be reflected here. With Season 4, I at least had some clear outliers for the best and worst episodes, but because so many of these episodes blended together, it's hard to really rank them. At best, there were two or three episodes I thought were good, and not even really good like the highlights of Season 4. So this time, I'll be taking a page from one of Schaffrillas Productions' ranking videos, specifically his Illumination Entertainment ranking video. Rather than rank every episode from worst to best, I'm going to rank them from best to worst.

In a way, I'm giving you the quintessential Season 5 experience, starting off with high expectations before a gradual descent into mediocrity.

#1: Intuition

Season 5 really needed more episodes like this one. A good chunk of the season just defaulted to the same old Akuma of the week formula while Monarch stayed cooped up in his lair as usual. Yes, while it was justified thanks to his Cataclysm wound, it kept the writers from really capitalizing on his expanded arsenal other than giving Akumas powers he didn't need Miraculous to give them in earlier seasons. This episode is built on the three major aspects established at the beginning of the season that the writers should have been focusing on instead of Love Square drama: Gabriel secretly dying, Gabriel having access to over a dozen Miraculous, and Ladybug and Cat Noir needing to fight an uphill battle against Monarch.

For the most part, Monarch's plan is well thought out and the stakes feel high as a result. Not only does Monarch get creative with the Miraculous he has at his disposal, he exploits the heroic nature Ladybug and Cat Noir have by forcing them to choose between saving an innocent astronaut or the people of Paris. The meteor threatening Paris feels like a threat precisely because Ladybug and Cat Noir can't get any help to deal with something this big, and have to deal with it on their own. The fact that Monarch also essentially has a hostage trapped inside Bugfighter helps add to the drama.

This is the episode that arguably does the most with the space power-ups. Ever since they were introduced in the New York Special, they were mostly used by Ladybug and Cat Noir to fly across long distances, and even then, there were episodes where the writers forgot they could have used those forms to resolve the conflict (Crocoduel). Here, because most of the action is primarily set in space, the abilities of Cosmobug and Astro Cat are on full display, and it's a nice shakeup from the usual fights set in Paris.

But the best part of the episode is arguably Gabriel. While he does make multiple questionable decisions (whether they were intended to be seen as stupid by the writers is up for debate), this episode is a pretty decent character piece for Gabriel, and fleshes him out the most this season. Putting aside my problems with the writers changing the rules of the Snake Miraculous specifically so Gabriel can't use it like with the Rooster, Gabriel's behavior and body language really sells the fact that his days are numbered. For most of the season, Gabriel's Cataclysm wound was a mild inconvenience at worst, but this episode shows just why he can't go out to fight Ladybug and Cat Noir himself.

It's pretty ironic in a way. Even though he has fifteen Miraculous and is arguably the most powerful character in the show at this point, Gabriel's paranoia and arrogance prevent him from taking full advantage of his arsenal. Gabriel is so dead set on achieving his goal, he's willing to abuse the Snake Miraculous' power to find a way to win, despite the risks it has to his health. He can't trust any regular Akuma with Second Chance, and even a close ally like Tomoe isn't above being tricked by Gabriel using that same power. It's that same sense of narcissism that leads to his downfall, as while Gabriel has more power than Ladybug, he just can't outsmart her.

It's a really good episode, and was an exception to the kind of lousy writing we got during Season 5, instead of being the norm.

#2: Action

You know, it says a lot about the show when not only is arguably one of the most universally loved episodes in recent memory is the first in years to not have Astruc in the writing team, not only is it not connected to the ongoing story in any meaningful way, but it's also an environmental PSA, episodes that are usually not viewed in a positive light.

The characterization is somewhat strong here. Other than Nino being the one to lead the protests, nobody is really annoying or out of character, which works in the story's favor. There's no melodrama, no Marinette needing to learn some contrived lesson, or no Adrien being portrayed as being right about everything. It's the kids versus Big Plastic, and nothing else.

The thing that makes the story work is that compared to other environmental PSA episodes, it actually acknowledges how complicated of an issue the nature of pollution is. There aren't any characters who want to keep polluting the environment. There are just circumstances in place that prevent them from taking a stand against an injustice like this. Influential figures in Paris like Gabriel, Andre, and Nadja have connections to the company enabling the pollution, and whether it be for financial or political reasons, they're essentially dependent on it.

This kind of approach to the pollution extends to the antagonist, Bertrand. What I like about him is that compared to other rich people on this show, he's not incompetent or actively malicious. He just sees what he's doing as a business, and he can't think of any other ways to make money. He even points out how much plastic is used in modern society and that his company makes plastic for a reason. He's kind of like a less overtly antagonistic version of Mr. Waternoose from Monsters, Inc. in a way. He's aware of what he's doing, but he views profit as more important. The difference is that unlike Waternoose, Bertrand realizes the error of his ways and starts finding ways to change how his company operates.

However, this extends to one of the bigger problems I have with the episode. Because it spends so much time trying to flesh out the opposition's argument, it doesn't really give the audience enough reasons to support the heroes protesting. Yes, it's morally correct to protest, but there's nothing else to make the audience understand why they're in the right to oppose pollution. Considering how this was meant to be used to educate kids on pollution, I guess I can give it a pass for at least doing a decent job getting the point across, even if I personally would have given more of an explanation as to why the heroes are right.

What I can't give the episode a pass for is how the conflict is resolved. For an environmental PSA episode, I cannot for the life of me comprehend why the writers thought it would be a good idea for the Akuma of the week to be defeated by plastic and pollution. Like, my brother in Christ, you're supposed to teach kids about why pollution is a bad thing! Did nobody think about the implications this would bring? Actually, given the other things that happened this season, that probably checks out.

A pretty decent episode if not for the ending polluting the moral.

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#3: Migration

While this one is one of the better episodes of Season 5, it still has its fair share of problems.

The most obvious one comes in the lesson its trying to teach with contrasting Bob and Jagged. It clearly wants to talk about redemption and self-improvement, but as I discussed in the overall analysis post, this show really doesn't have a good grasp on writing redemption arcs. For one thing, I really wouldn't compare Jagged becoming a better father to Bob being a selfish asshole because while Jagged abandoning his family was a terrible thing, since it was done more out of selfishness than outright malice. Bob on the other hand, is just a dick who wants to make money because this show's views on the business world make the Ferengi in Star Trek seem nuanced by comparison.

The episode spends so much more time showing how easy it is to be tricked by people rather than showing how important having trust in someone is, and it really muddles the lesson as a result. “See? Jagged changed easily, so that's a good enough reason to justify characters like Bob being irredeemably evil!” If you wanted to teach kids about trusting others, don't have it be in the same episode as the lesson about others taking advantage of your goodwill.

Putting that aside, Luka had a pretty decent swan song that tested his loyalty to Ladybug and Cat Noir. You can really buy his determination to keep their identities a secret from Monarch and his decision to leave his home to make sure this information stays a secret makes sense. Well, as long as you don't count Luka announcing the fact that he knows their identities to plenty of potential hostages and victims for Monarch, but then again, that moron never does anything smart with the intel he gets. We really needed more focus episodes showing the former temp heroes helping out Ladybug and Cat Noir in their own ways, not just having them all form a stupid resistance that does almost nothing useful all season.

The conflict with Gold Record also worked well here. I like how Monarch's simple plan to akumatize Luka turned into a plan to figure out Ladybug and Cat Noir's identities that just happened to use a different Akuma. I'd argue it was done better than in “Truth” because of how the victims aren't just forced to tell the truth, they're thrown out into space, so the stakes are pretty high. I'll admit the way they stop Gold Record is pretty anti-climactic, and you could argue Luka didn't even need to tell Ladybug he knew her identity with out easily the situation is resolved right after he's turned into a record. I think it would have worked better if Luka's secret was that he said he was jealous of Adrien for managing to be the one Marinette loves over him instead of just knowing the heroes' identities.

It's a flawed, but still okay episode to rewatch. It's a good thing Luka knew how bad this season was getting so he headed out the first chance he got. If only he stayed out of Paris instead of becoming one of Su-Han's students offscreen before the finale.

#4: Elation

You know this season is abysmal when, of all things, a Glaciator episode ends up making the top 5, and you know how much I love those episodes.

Of all the episodes to feature the Adrienette drama, I feel like this one had the best execution of it. You can really understand the emotional turmoil Marinette is going through and how hard things are for her. You also get how hard it is for Cat Noir to have to turn down the girl he loves after having so much fun with her. Remember, as far as he knows, he's taking advantage of his status as a superhero to make a move on a civilian like Marinette. The fact that he's aware of this and is willing to break it off himself is a far cry from the entitled little twerp he was last season. While I think Marichat could have been explored more, the fact that it ends here makes for a pretty solid transition into Adrienette becoming official next episode.

Alya also has some decent characterization here. Yeah, she goes against some of the things she said earlier this season, but we get a little glimmer of her Season 4 self by having her realize the error of her ways and actually make an attempt to support her friend. Of course, she goes back to the same old Season 5 Alya, but it's something.

Something I didn't really think about until after I originally posted the review was how confusing the episode's stance on shipping is. Like, we're supposed to side with Marinette and be against everyone trying to dictate who she's supposed to be in love with... but the people trying to tell her who she's in love with are technically right by pointing out her feelings for Adrien. Yes, nobody else knows that Adrien is Cat Noir, but with how much buildup Adrienette has gotten over the years, it's really confusing that the writers are acting like it's weird that people are obsessed with Marinette's love life. Pointing out how annoying Alya and Andre are by refusing to believe Marinette could have feelings for someone who isn't Adrien is basically the pot calling the kettle black.

Maybe if this was a Season 2 or 3 episode focusing on Marinette's growing feelings for Luka, this kind of story could have worked, but as it stands, it's a very confusing stance for the writers to take. Overall, a pretty decent episode.

#5: Evolution

It's the first part of what I like to call the “Remember When This Season Looked Kinda Promising?” Trilogy.

This episode really seemed like there was going to be a change in direction for Season 5 with how it was structured. Rather than immediately go back to the Akuma of the week formula, the characters, for the most part, make choices most people would make if they were in their shows. What does Gabriel do as soon as he gets all the Miraculous in the Miracle Ball? He whips out the Rabbit Miraculous and immediately decides to travel through time to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous before they can even stop him. The best part is that Ladybug almost immediately catches onto Monarch's plan and isn't too confused when Bunnix shows up to bring them along. Of course, both Ladybug and Monarch still do stupid things that contradict these smart decisions, but it's the thought that counts.

I like how this episode is taking advantage of its premise and makes it about a race through time to stop Monarch before he screws up history. It's a decent idea to call back to older episodes, but the issue is how they don't really do much to explain why nobody noticed this. Even events where the past versions of the heroes were right there when the current versions were fighting Monarch don't get so much as a mention. I think it could have worked more if they stayed undetected, but during the chaos of the fighting, our Ladybug accidentally sets up things past Ladybug could use for her Lucky Charm. That way, it would help sell the idea of this being more of a self-contained time loop.

Something that I actually thought was clever foreshadowing was when Monarch went back in time to save Emilie. He doesn't just steal the Peacock Miraculous or tell his past self to not use it. He specifically plans to give instructions to fix the broken Peacock Miraculous, as if to say one of its creations is too important to be erased from history...

Speaking of Sentimonsters, Cat Noir and Ladybug have some good teamwork here, confirming that we're finally done with the Cat Dour drama from last season. While I feel like it could have been handled better, I like the idea of Ladybug's guilt being what motivated her to trust Cat Noir with the Rabbit Miraculous, and when they go to see the younger version of Master Fu, they feel more like equals while choosing a Miraculous.

So with all the positive things I had to say, why isn't this episode higher on the list. Well, the thing is that when there weren't moments I enjoyed, most of my thoughts on this episode were like this:

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A good chunk of the episode is the characters making stupid decision after stupid decision in order to make sure we get twenty-six more episodes. I can at least buy Monarch getting overconfident with all the new Miraculous he has, but Ladybug and Cat Noir don't get that excuse. They get a total of five chances to get back the Miraculous, but other than just getting the Rabbit back, Ladybug keeps choosing to say she's going to take the Miraculous back instead of just GRABBING THEM FIRST AND THEN GLOATING. There are James Bond villains who think you're taking too long. We're really supposed to see Monarch as a threat when the only reason why he keeps getting away is because the heroes are too stupid to do what any sensible person would do in their position. Seriously, if the Winx Club were the ones chasing Monarch throughout history, they'd most likely be spending more time discussing who's paying for milkshakes after they drop his bruised and battered body off at the police station.

And then there's Monarch himself, who has to be told to go back and save his wife instead of getting the Miraculous to make a wish. The episode tries to imply that Gabriel has more selfish intentions, but the finale pretty much throws that away and makes it so he just misses his wife. I'll give you a moment to process the shock of this show setting up a character arc and doing nothing with it. The fact that he blames Ladybug for his own mistakes is pretty much the only thing that connects the two, since Ladybug acts like Monarch is too powerful to stop in a fight when she kept screwing up chances to take back the Miraculous.

I also really don't like the way Master Fu and Alix were used in this episode. For one thing, if Ladybug and Cat Noir can easily use time travel to borrow Miraculous from the younger Fu, why can't they just do that until they stop Monarch? Yeah, they gave the Rabbit Miraculous to Alix, but why can't they just call her up to go to Fu for some Miraculous Ladybug and Cat Noir need? Speaking of, is nobody going to acknowledge the fact that Alix was just forced to become Bunnix after getting the Rabbit Miraculous? Last season made a big deal about how stressful Marinette becoming the Guardian was, and now we're just okay with Alix being forced to bear what is arguably an even bigger burden?

Overall, while not a terrible start to the season, it still had a lot to work on while still having its fair share of positive moments.

#6: Destruction

Much like with “Evolution”, there seemed to be some improvement here on the writing and characterization, but fell apart towards the end.

I like how Marinette, Alya, and Cat Noir all work together to outsmart Monarch with Alya distracting him long enough to follow the trap Ladybug and Cat Noir set up for him. It's a pretty clever gambit, and it's nice that Cat Noir actually gets to play a part in it. “Evolution” showed that Monarch was too powerful to take on in a fight, so a battle of wits is the best option to stop him, something that fits Ladybug perfectly.

I also like how, once again, the writers explain why Monarch can't use something as powerful as the Rooster Miraculous to win, even if it's a really stupid explanation. But hey, I'm just some moron who thinks that the Rooster Miraculous shouldn't be a diet version of the Power Cosmic.

Something that was very clever was the reveal of the episode taking place before a previous episode, “Multiplication”. It adds rewatch value to earlier episodes, it allows kids watching to figure out what happened without explaining every single part of the twist, and it's something this season really should have done more often.

However, that's where my compliments end here. The main problem with this episode is how the climax pretty much ruins the clever plan Ladybug set up. She takes forever to explain her plan to Monarch in great detail, and we're supposed to be surprised that Monarch managed to escape. She didn't even think to just pull off his Miraculous first and then gloat about how awesome she is. Hell, she somehow showed more concern over Monarch escaping thanks to her incompetence instead of Cat Noir accidentally Cataclysming him. But then again, this is the same person who will try to Cataclysm Monarch several times in the season finale. Something that's also weird is that they set up the idea of Monarch escaping with the Lucky Charm, but nothing ever comes of it. You'd think it would be important with how much emphasis is put on nothing else being able to heal Gabriel, but it's never mentioned in the season finale. It could have been an easy way to show Marinette resolving the conflict, by healing her greatest enemy and giving him the chance to better himself... instead of having Gabriel die and Marinette choosing to wash her hands of the whole “I let the universe end” thing.

This episode also showed just how forgettable the Kwamis are as characters. The show wants to make a big deal about how cruel Gabriel is to have control over them, but none of them have any real personality other than “Annoying toddler on a sugar high”. Even putting aside how insufferable they were last season, there's just not enough in this episode to really get you invested in their plight. Not even Trixx, the Kwami who got the most screentime other than Tikki and Plagg last season, gets a single line here.

This episode had promise, but the way it fumbled the landing really ruined it for me.

#7: Multiplication

I swear, I didn't intend for the first three episodes of Season 5 to be ranked like this in chronological order of all things. It was a happy accident, almost miraculous if you will.

Anyway, this episode was okay. It was a decent follow-up to “Evolution”. I like how it's more of a slow character piece for Marinette as she tries to deal with her guilt and conflicting feelings for Adrien after the betrayal. This was the few episodes that I feel really nailed the emotional moments with Marinette this season. There's no overdramatic dialogue, there's no exclusive focus on Adrien (at least at first), and it's played 100% seriously. I also thought it was a decent idea to have the people of Paris prepare for the worst with Monarch, even if it went nowhere. Even the Akuma was handled pretty well, as it allowed the writers to show off the gimmick this season with Ikari Gozen using Multiplication while Ladybug and Cat Noir get to show actual teamwork for a change.

But the problem with this episode was how nobody really seemed to care about the threat Monarch poses. Not only does Alya go back caring more about Marinette's love life, not only does everyone else in Paris seem to forget about Monarch after a few weeks, but Adrien's only role this episode is to realize his feelings for Marinette instead of thinking about the role he also played in Monarch getting all the other Miraculous. Yeah, who cares about serious introspection from someone who spent an entire season trying to show he's just as capable a hero as his partner while inadvertently being part of the reason why she lost her other allies? I want to see him try to kiss someone multiple times without their consent!

And yeah, let's talk about the kissing joke and how it's more than just unfunny, it's almost disgusting with how it's presented. We're supposed to laugh at Marinette for resisting Adrien's attempts to kiss her multiple times when she has every right to not want to be kissed without her consent. The entire joke is that it's happening just as Marinette is trying to get over her feelings for Adrien, but even if she still liked him, it's still against her consent Remember, this is the same show that tried to teach kids about the importance of consent in episodes like “Felix” and “Lies”, yet it never applied to Adrien in this episode, to the point where Alya tries to restrain Marinette so she can't resist or run away.

“But IOTA! It's a cultural thing in France!” Fine, maybe it is, but there's three problems with that. First, Adrien made it clear that he sees Marinette purely in a romantic light, not just as a acquaintance. Second, even if it was meant to be platonic, he didn't do it with Alya or Nino. Finally, if Marinette didn't want to be kissed the first time, that should have been it.

I don't care how socially stunted Adrien is, or how much everyone in the entire world ships Adrientte, if you see someone looking like this when someone is trying to kiss them:

DON'T SMILE, AND MAKE THAT PERSON RESPECT HER PERSONAL SPACE!

It's just such a terrible joke to make, and it this is coming from the season that tries to tackle serious issues like mental health and child abuse. How this episode didn't run into controversy like “Ephemeral” did, I'll never know. Just not a good episode, yet somehow, this still made the top ten.

#8: Perfection

This is an episode that had a decent Akuma, a pretty wholesome resolution, and... uh... Yeah, that's about it.

Of all the Kagami-centric episodes the show has ever done, this is the one that really shows us how she thinks. Because of the high standards her mother places on her, she believes that she can't have friends, and she has only herself to rely on. I like how rather than just default to her being constantly angry while akumatized, she's much more depressed, and most of the damage she causes is unintentional. Granted, I don't get how Monarch thought a giant cloud monster who can't see a thing will be able to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous, but I still like how Ryukomori is presented.

On the other hand, despite being a Kagami focused episode, the writers somehow forgot what Kagami was like. She's usually a no-nonsense person who can see through lies and deception with ease, like what happened when she dumped Adrien in “Lies”. Here, she takes things so literally thanks to Lila's “friendship test”, I'm pretty sure Amelia Bedelia would tell her stop taking things so literally. The fact that this isn't just a one-off occurrence doesn't help at all.

If there's anything I could take away from rewatching this episode, it's that I finally understand the problem with this show's humor. The cow bit made me realize just how often this show will drag out its jokes to pad out the runtime, and the cow joke is a perfect example. It's mentioned a total of five times during the first half of the episode. It would have been just an unfunny joke if it was just a one-time thing, but the writers will take a joke and repeat it multiple times until it becomes incredibly annoying. It's like if Patrick kept asking Squidward if mayonnaise was an instrument in that one SpongeBob episode. The joke stops being funny if you keep reusing it over and over again in such a short timeframe.

The song Adrien sung before the Akuma was also incredibly forgettable and comes out of nowhere. I don't even get why they had him do this when Luka is usually characterized as the musician. Even Marinette is surprised Adrien can suddenly sing. Besides, I think we can all agree on what the perfect love song that would sweep Marinette off her feet is.

But yeah, for an episode titled “Perfection”, it's anything but.

#9: Protection

Again, I didn't intend for the direct follow-up to “Perfection” to be ranked right below it. I also want to clear up any confusion people have with this one, since Season 5's episode titles have been hard to memorize for some people. “Perfection” was an episode where Kagami got akumatized thanks to Lila's lies, only for Ladybug to peacefully resolve the conflict thanks to the power of friendship. “Protection” was an episode where Kagami got akumatized thanks to Lila's lies, only for Ladybug to treat her like any other Akuma because the power of friendship was meaningless. I hope I made things easier for you.

This is such a nothing episode. Pretty much everything that happens here is either reused from previous episodes or will continue to be used for the rest of the season. Gabriel tries to break up Adrienette, Lila is a liar, and Kagami is an idiot. There's just nothing to talk about here. The only thing that really stands out for me is the brief moments Marinette and Adrien shared as a couple. They're cute and have believable chemistry, but they're so few and far between. Nothing is accomplished in this episode, and even the stuff with Kagami and Lila is pretty much dropped after this.

Even the Akuma was forgettable. It's just Riposte with a meat cleaver and a diet version of Penalteam's powers. It lacks the emotional weight the resolution with Ryukomori had. It feels like these episodes were meant to be the same one, but were split up to fill the 26 episode count. Overall, just a boring episode, yet still one of the season's better outings if you can believe it.

#10: Jubilation

Yes, this is the one that made the top ten. I'm just as surprised as you are.

Putting aside the dream scene, the episode had some decent ideas, like Marinette struggling to deal with the stress that comes with being Ladybug, and other ways Gabriel can use the Alliance rings to his advantage. Even Cat Noir's emotional reaction to having to leave the dream was decently executed, even if there was no buildup to it. This is the kind of stuff I think we should have gotten more of this season, more character focus and Gabriel actually being a competent villain.

With that being said, there's still a lot of problems here. Socqueline comes out of nowhere, Mr. Damocles' portrayal here doesn't match up with how he is in other episodes this season (much less “Derision”, Socqueline's only other episode), and the dream sequence was creepy as all hell because the animators didn't have enough money to design older models for Ladybug and Cat Noir so they wouldn't be teen parents.

Just an average episode with a few memorable parts, for better or for worse.

#11: Reunion

Riddle me this, my dear readers: How do you write an episode where you want to utilize a fictional version of Joan of Arc, but can't include the visions from God or how she was burned at the stake, the two most well-known things about her? The answer? Turn her into a generic knight who speaks broken English even though she's supposed to be French, duh!

I don't know how you manage to take a concept like Joan of Arc being a former superhero and screw it up this much. She's pretty much only there to bitch and moan at Marinette, essentially body shames Adrien, and only becomes relevant because the Akuma of the week happened to be asking questions about history.

There really could have been done more with the Reunion concept, but this is the only time this season where it's used, and I'm sure it has nothing to do that Joan of Arc's model was used in “Ephemeral”. But when has the show ever come up with excuses to reuse older models this season? I mean, besides young Master Fu in “Evolution”, the other temp heroes in “Determination”, Mister Bug and Lady Noire in “Passion”, and Scarabella in “Revelation” that is.

This episode also tries to tackle conspiracy theorists with Jalil, but it fails because you understand where he's coming from. He is literally the only character in the entire show to think, “Hey, isn't it kind of fucked up that my little sister was forced to become a guardian of time before she graduated middle school while not even getting to say goodbye to me, her only brother?” Yes, the moral isn't a bad one, but Jalil isn't wrong to be paranoid about Ladybug given how she evidently never talked to him about this, much less give Bunnix the chance to say goodbye herself.

The Akuma also really made no sense for Jalil. If he's supposed to be seeking the truth, why is he asking random historical trivia questions? How does knowing the year Sputnik was launched into space relevant to finding out if Ladybug is honest or not? It's almost like the writers have already created multiple Akumas with powers connected to honesty, so this is an overused idea (Oni-Chan, Truth, Lies).

It's just a very forgettable episode, much like how much the writers just forgot the Reunion idea for the rest of the season. Seriously, did anyone remember Plagg gave Adrien a Kwagatama at the end of this one?

#12: Passion

In my opinion, this was the episode that set up two of the biggest problems with Season 5: Extremely contrived Love Square drama and Nathalie's incompetence preventing her from ending the conflict then and there.

While I'm glad we're finally getting a Nathalie focused episode, the issue I have with it is just how the writers are clearly trying to portray her with Adrien's best interests in mind, she still doesn't do anything to actually stop Gabriel other than complaining about how evil Gabriel is while still going along with his plans. She willingly accepts an Akuma from the same man she's claims she's protecting Adrien from and still follows his plans for absolutely no reason. Why Gabriel still keeps her around, much less trusts her with an Akuma, is beyond me.

Rewatching this episode made me realize just how pointless Nathalie is this season. It feels like the writers needed to have Nathalie oppose Gabriel but didn't know how to do that without having her rat him out to Ladybug and Cat Noir. All they really had to do was have her fall into the same coma Emilie is in, and it would not only take her out of the picture. That way, it would remove any concern that Nathalie could expose Gabriel and it would better justify Tomoe's inclusion this season. Instead, a good chunk of this episode is Nathalie and Gabriel making it clear that they hate each other while still choosing to work together for no reason.

The actual backstory for Nathalie was okay. I like how she's more than just some secretary who was informed of the Miraculous and later teamed up with Gabriel, instead being a treasure hunter who specializes in locating magical artifacts like the Miraculous. It's a clever bit of character development and I like how it ties into her Akuma form for the episode. Of course, it's somewhat ruined by the fact that we still don't know why Gabriel and Emilie wanted to find the Miraculous in the first place, not even after five seasons.

Putting aside Nathalie generally being an idiot, the rest of the episode was pretty mediocre. It's more Love Square drama, with Marinette's concerns about how her feelings for Adrien led to Monarch getting fifteen Miraculous being brushed aside as her denying how she really feels. Only now, the episode is going out of its way to make it seem like all Marinette can do is all but lust over whoever she's in love with, in this case, Cat Noir/Mister Bug. Because actually acknowledging character flaws and how they affect the narrative while playing them for laughs is how Miraculous Ladybug rolls. Decades from now, episodes like this will be commonplace, I just know it.

The Akuma fight was also pretty lackluster. I don't get why Safari's arrows only targeted Ladybug and Cat Noir, and only Ladybug and Cat Noir while they were transformed instead of, you know, targeting their Miraculous. It just felt like a cheap excuse to get some more mileage out of the Mister Bug and Lady Noire models. Well, that, and more of Lady Noire prioritizing her romantic feelings over the mission at hand.

While I can appreciate the attempt to flesh out Nathalie's character, it's not enough to salvage this episode.

#13: Deflagration

Before I start this section, can anyone tell me why the hell it's named a chemistry term of all things?

The wiki claims that it's referencing what Tikki and Plagg do in the episode, but I don't think that continuously creating and destroying stuff counts as deflagration. Then again, I'm some schmuck on the internet, not a chemist.

Anyway, this episode is clearly trying to come across as an event, but nothing is really accomplished here. Marinette and Adrien already got together in the last episode, the Akuma didn't do anything to advance Monarch's plan, Zoe's character development as Kitty Noire is nonexistent, Alya being exposed for the third time ends up being pointless since Scarabella appears in “Revelation” a few episodes later, and no progress is made in stopping Monarch. It's just one big fight scene that lacks real tension because Monarch is reduced to a joke in this episode.

Monarch is seriously dogpiled by several middle school students, and the show still expects us to take him seriously as a villain. I can at least buy Sole Destroyer, given how Chloe is supposed to be seen as harmless sometimes, but the main villain getting beaten by kids with no superpowers? It just really breaks the suspension of disbelief. It'd be like if Kevin McCallister somehow defeated Godzilla with one of his traps. You're not impressed by Kevin taking him down, you're asking why Godzilla went down so easily.

This was the episode where the writers started making dumb blonde jokes by making it so Chloe doesn't understand the meaning of the word “Generous”, and it's just as unfunny as it sounds. Not only is this hypocritical because this “girl power” show is now using one of the most misogynistic writing tropes in history, it's the same episode with a title named after a chemical reaction that most children watching don't understand. Chloe didn't even serve a purpose this episode because nobody ever fought Sole Destroyer onscreen. It's just another “Ha! She's blonde and rich, so that means she's dumb!” joke... which came before a certain episode that showed her as being capable of pulling off several complex schemes to torment Marinette.

I also love how despite making a big deal about them being worthy to be Ladybug and Cat Noir's replacements last episode, Alya and Zoe are taken out of commission before the action even starts. I feel like the episode could have at least been elevated if Alya and Zoe at least tried to help. It would have better justified them temporarily replacing Ladybug and Cat Noir instead of the cheap ratings grab it was.

But yeah, it's a pretty dull episode, and the only reason why I don't have more to say is because the first part has more glaring issues in my eyes.

Part 2

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt

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enehana · 1 month

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Jason Grace with the cabins

Cabin 1: Zeus. It's just him and Thalia because of the oath. Probably. Hopefully. Jason would be very protective of any younger siblings. He'd use his status as Champion of Juno to try and protect them from her wrath. It would work, for the most part.

Cabin 2: Hera. There isn't any children of Hera. He'd absolutely be chill with the 'adopted' children of Hera, though. Like the Iris cabin.

Cabin 3: Poseidon. Percy Jackson, baby. I don't believe they really compete over much unless its an actual competition or game. They work together just fine. Good friends, only gay sex as a joke. Any other children of Poseidon (that aren't supposed to exist either), Jason wouldn't really talk to. Percy would probably be too protective of them for Jason to have much to do with them.

Cabin 4: Demeter. The Demeter kids would always be asking him if he could change the weather for their gardens. He doesn't. He's too worried that if he tried it would get too out of hand and ruin their gardens. Some of them think the gesture is sweet. Others are more annoyed that he won't try. Cause he's literally the son of Jupiter, he should be able to control his powers. And he can. But he isn't risking it. They probably get along pretty well.

Cabin 5: Ares. The Ares kids are always challenging him to duels and asking to spar. He usually agrees, granted it's a friendly thing. They want to make their dad proud by defeating the son of Jupiter. They don't. Jason wins, and then gives them pointers. This makes them want to fight him more. If he thought it wasn't a friendly thing, he wouldn't fight them unless they actually attacked him. He'd always try to talk through the issue. Jason fully believes he isn't anyone special because his dad is the king of the gods. He thinks they want to spar with him because he genuinely is one of the best and most experienced fighters. Cause that's how Camp Jupiter is. Overall, they probably wouldn't get along well naturally. Zeus wasn't the biggest fan of Ares, so their kids wouldn't be inclined to be playmates or anything. But Jason would always try to work well with them.

Cabin 6: Athena. One of the best combinations. Jason and the Athena kids would be working together constantly. Sparring tips, doing research, teaching younger campers. Jason is built for leadership despite how much he never wanted it. Athena kids want to lead and earn their glory. He would absolutely support them on anything they decided.

Cabin 7: Apollo. I refuse to believe Jason died in TOA. It all happened, but he didn't die. Just no. The Apollo kids would be incredibly grateful for Jason not letting their dad die, especially after he actually started being a good dad. Jason would try to relax with the Apollo kids if he ever got a break. They'd all definitely be great friends.

Cabin 8: Artemis. Thalia Grace. Need I say more?

Cabin 9: Hephaestus. They'd love each other. Hephaestus was not treated great by Zeus and Hera at all. Jason would 100% try to make up for that. AND Jason always tried to befriend the outcasted kids. Hephaestus was one. Leo certainly loved Jason. The potential for Valgrace to be canon was insane. And the electricity. He could charge anything they made. He's strong too. Definitely able to hold up heavy machinery while they worked. He'd be amazing with the Hephaestus cabin.

Cabin 10: Aphrodite. Piper Mclean. Her siblings would love him. The younger Aphrodite kids would look up to Piper so much, so the fact that things ended 'amicably' between them would mean so much. Jason would be caught up on Piper for a long time, and would avoid the Aphrodite cabin for a while. But once he came around, he was there to stay. They were his siblings too, in his eyes. He'd steer them away from the whole rite of passage thing and encourage them to find the person they want to spend the rest of their life with. And he'd understand if they didn't. Jason was so sweet to them, but I can't image that he would date another child of Aphrodite.

Cabin 11: Hermes. Probably a pretty neutral thing. The Hermes kids tend to be tricksters and rule breakers, which Jason is not. He'd try to keep them in line, but he'd also want to maintain a good impression with them. He'd love to make friends with them. He had heard about Luke from Thalia, and he wouldn't forget that. Thalia did throw him off a cliff. But he would never hold Luke's betrayal against them.

Cabin 12: Dionysus. Jason wouldn't be a fan of the Dionysus cabin parties that were definitely against the rules. Dionysus let them happen anyway. The Dionysus kids would try to get Jason to let loose and forget about his responsibilities for a while. It didn't work, but he did appreciate their effort.

Cabin 13: Hades. NICO MOTHERFUCKING DI ANGELO. They're besties of course. If Bianca lived, she would like Jason purely because Nico liked Jason. I don't remember a lot about canon Bianca, but I can't imagine she would really be friends with Jason. Hazel and Jason were absolutely friends. She missed him when he went missing. And Jason always tried to befriend outcasts, and Hades wasn't considered an Olympian despite literally being the king of the underworld, and Nico was outcasted too much for literally no reason. (I love Nico.) Jason would be great with the Hades cabin.

Cabin 14: Iris. Jason briefly met Butch Walker. It wasn't much of anything. The Iris cabin would love Jason. Hera absolutely adores children of Iris because their mother is her personal messenger. Jason is the champion of Juno. So of course being loved by the queen of the gods would put them together too often. They would make pride flags and hold them up to him, silently asking if he's queer. He doesn't understand what they're doing. Genuinely clueless. He just praises their work. Awesome pride flags.

Cabin 15: Hypnos. Jason and the Hypnos kids. With Jason's PTSD induced insomnia, what better combination? They would absolutely be willing to help him sleep at night. The problem isn't even nightmares, he just cannot fall asleep. The Hypnos cabin would let him sleep in there at any time. And Jason would do anything in return. He takes any gesture of kindness towards him very very seriously. He would do anything for the Hypnos kids.

Cabin 16: Nemesis. Mutual respect. The Nemesis kids respect Jason so much. They can sense that he's done so much good and so many bad things have happened to him AND HE'S STILL A GOOD PERSON. They look up to him so much. They have a lot of adoration or maybe even obsession with this man. Jason respects them in turn. He appreciates how they want justice, they want everyone to be equal, and everyone has to follow the rules. They work incredibly well together. The Nemesis kids can link up their powers with an ally so they're in perfect balance during a fight, and holy shit do they do that with Jason. Jason and the Nemesis cabin is unstoppable. Jason by himself is unstoppable (HE DID NOT DIE I SWEAR), so the Nemesis kids being able to put themselves on par with him is insane. But they cannot spar with each other. The Nemesis kids know that Jason deserves to get revenge more than anybody they've ever met (and Percy, Annabeth, Leo, etc.). They just cannot fight against him under any circumstances. They would let him beat them every single time. He would get very frustrated that they wouldn't even try.

Cabin 17: Nike. Honestly, not the best relationship at camp. Definitely not the worst though. Nike kids tend to believe there can only be one victor and that life is an individual game, no teams. Jason wants everyone to win together. Equality amongst everyone. And the Nike kids 100% stand a chance against Jason. They can influence the outcome of any competition, so the chances of them beating Jason in anything skyrocket. But they also know that when it comes to survival they have to work together. They do tend to push in favor of Jason then. But usually, it's the Nike kids VS. Jason Grace. And Jason just wants peace between them.

Cabin 18: Hebe. The Hebe cabin practically worships Jason. They always wanted a relationship with someone like their mother's husband. And Hebe married Heracles, son of Zeus. So when Jason showed up to camp, they got all fancy and fawned over him. Though they did the same thing with Thalia. Jason was not a fan of the attention. He never wanted to be a leader. So when all these attractive, young demigods start begging for his attention, he felt really awkward. And he was raised at Camp Jupiter, where they value skill over parentage greatly. He did not like getting attention because of who his dad was. He wanted to prove himself through his skill. He did not want to be his father. He spends a lot of time avoiding the Hebe cabin, but he is always polite when he can't.

Cabin 19: Tyche. Jason is on relatively good terms with the Tyche cabin. The Tyche kids do have an illegal gambling room set up in their cabin, which Jason is not very happy about. He doesn't try to stop them though. Their ability to give people chronic bad luck stops people from reporting it. And Mr. D doesn't care anyways. If Chiron shut it down, he'd just help them set it back up. The Tyche kids do admire Jason because somehow he's managed to survive for so long. Abandoned by his mother, raised by wolves, was a child soldier his entire life. They figured their mother must like him if he's survived that long, so they like him too.

Cabin 20: Hecate. Half of the Hecate kids like him, and the other half don't. It's mostly the judgey ones that don't like him. The ones that do like him look up to his power and skill and status. They are the Hecate kids that accept Hazel as their own sibling. The ones that don't like him think he isn't very powerful for a son of Jupiter and is weaker than them. They also typically are the ones that are jealous of Hazel for being their mother's favorite. Hecate kids typically use their powers to enhance other camper's powers. They can lend their magic to others to have a greater effect. They do this with Jason. He works well with the Hecate kids when they're willing to.

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ghoststyles · 1 year

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Fairway to Heaven - Part 1

Hi!! I’m so excited to post my first-ever Harry fic! I’ve been on 1D Tumblr since the very beginning, logged off for 5 years and now I’m back 💀 So I’ve had a lot of ideas over the years that have just lived in my head. GOLFRRY + MUSTACHRRY are my weaknesses, so this is my twist on a golf/bev cart girl + agegap fic 🤩

I’d love to hear your thoughts. I have most of the story written, so I should be able to have a consistent posting schedule. Not sure the total # of parts quite yet. I’m also happy to write additional blurbs if y’all like Harry and Briar as much as I do 🥹🐥🦊

Here is a mood board I put together. Feel free to picture Briar however you please. The mood board is just to set the vibez!

Without further ado...Enjoy!

Word count: 4.5K

Contains mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Agegaps, cursing.

Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4

By the time she gets to her designated cart, she’s already fifteen minutes late; but her iced coffee is the perfect color, and her hair didn’t give her too much trouble this morning. A win is a win.

Briar Barlowe quickly dumps a bucket of ice in her cart’s side cooler as the bar back begins filling the bin with the usual suspects: Bud Light, Michelob Ultra, Fireball, Tito’s, Casamigos, Ginger ale, and, of course, grape juice. She makes sure to keep her lavender cups stocked and plenty of fun straws to make everything more fun. She even decorates her tip jars to say funny jokes.

Since starting at Wynnewood Country Club, Briar has gained a bit of notoriety among the players as the girl with a bright smile and a heavy pour. This job is exactly what she needs to fill the gap between graduating college and beginning her business degree in the fall. Good money, stress-free responsibilities, and time spent in the sunshine.

Her Uncle, Patrick Barlowe, is the golf pro at Wynnewood; a local legend who was just shy of making the PGA Tour himself. He spends his days teaching lessons, running the pro shop and serving on the Board of Directors for the club. If you’re in with Patrick, you’re in with everyone.

When he heard her worries of not finding a summer job after graduation, it was a no brainer to offer her a position as a beverage cart girl. They both gaze out over the course from a table under the gazebo on the top deck of the club’s restaurant.

“That job sounds a little sexist, Uncle Patrick,” Briar sneers. All she can picture is driving around in a little dress and a visor like Malibu Barbie, answering the male members’ every beck and call.

The club is gorgeous; first built in 1914, and the architecture reflects it. It has two golf courses, 4 tennis courts, a pool, and deluxe spa. The member fees skyrocket each year, upping the amenities and overall snootiness of the members.

“The money is good and the members are pretty harmless. From the way you’ve swindled me into throwing teddy bear tea parties, I think you’ll do just fine on the sales aspect.”

“Fine. When do I start?”

Patrick leans back in his seat, “I’ll call Dominic in the morning.”

With that, they finish their drinks and appetizers just as the sun sets.

Walking out to her car, she sees a black Range Rover pull under the carport. The boys at the valet stand are already bickering over who gets to drive this one.

Based on the surrounding town, the level of pretentiousness at the club never surprises Briar. The yearly member fee for the club can cover 2 years’ worth of her business school tuition alone. She shakes her head and jumps into her hand-me down Jeep to head back to her apartment, paying no mind to the man entering the front door of the club.

Her shift this morning started out in the frigid cold, forcing her to change outfits later in the day as the sun came out. She’s sporting her black athletic skort and a racerback tank top. She opts to leave her hair down and sport her black and white Nike trailblazers to keep the look casual.

With a few weeks’ worth of shifts under her belt, she’s learned the ways of the club and fallen into a good rhythm. On any given weekend day, she has to head to the clubhouse to restock twice before 12PM. Today is not one of those days.

As temperature warms up, the course begins to fill up. In the last hour of her shift, she’s left with only a few beers and a few shots worth of Tito’s. Her tip jar is a little emptier than usual, but the pun on her sign got a few chuckles. She sets up shop on the 17th hole and snaps a few photos of the sunset.

“I shot one under today. One under a tree, one under a bush, and one under the water.”

Briar jumps at the voice behind her. Is that an Irish accent? She leans to peer over the side of her cart. She sees a man, older than her, donning a light blue polo with dark blue pants and a white hat, reading the joke on her jar.

“Clever, isn’t it?” She smiles kindly at him.

“Hilarious. It’s like ya been watching my game today,” he laughs. He moves closer to where she’s standing.

“Can I get you anything? I’ll be honest, I’m mostly wiped out.”

He peers down at the contents of the cooler. “I’ll take that last Mich Ultra. Do you have any Casamigos left? My mate is a little picky.”

“No Casamigos,” she says with a slight frown. “I’ll try to keep my drinking to a minimum next time and save you some.”

He lets out a loud laugh and squeezes his eyes shut. “Alright, just this then. He’ll have to deal with it.”

“I can offer you some Peanut M&M’s for your troubles,” she says, pulling out her iPad to ring in the order. “Do you have an account with the club, or do you want to pay cash?”

“The account is under Niall Horan,” he says, putting a $20 bill in the jar. “Thanks for the M&M’s, darlin’.”

“I’m Briar. It was nice meeting you, Niall. Thank you!” She beams. He smiles and starts heading back to the path toward the clubhouse.

After cleaning her cart and counting her money, Briar finishes the day drinking a mojito at the bar, while Cam, her new friend at the club, is working her bar shift.

“How was it out there today, babe?” Cam asks.

“Slow at first, but it definitely picked up. I couldn’t even head back for a restock. Luckily, the members I got at the very end weren’t picky.”

“Oh! Did you see Niall?” she asks as she puts glassware in the dishwasher.

“Yeah,” Briar furrows her brows. “How did you know?”

“I used to serve him on the front course all the time. Now that I’m too old and wretched to work out on the course, he’ll visit me in here sometimes. He mentioned playing the back course with a friend today.”

Briar is always assigned to the back course. There are only minor differences in difficulty, but she finds the back course to be a little more calm and serious. They’re also a little more generous with their tips. She’s not sure if her assignment has something to do with her uncle’s knowledge of the club’s inner workings.

“He is really nice, and generous. I didn’t get to meet the friend, though. Did you?”

“Yes, he was a little more reserved. But Niall is a riot, so he makes anyone look calm. I didn’t catch his name.”

Briar hums and stirs her mojito around as she stifles a yawn. “Well, I’ve been here since 7:30 this morning, so I am ready to goooo,” she drags out her last word. She waves bye to Cam and begins the trek to the employee parking lot.

As she’s walking, she gazes up to the upper deck of the restaurant where she can just barely make out Niall standing by the railing. He’s talking animatedly and waving his beer bottle around.

A bit off to the right, peering down at her, is a tall, striking man with dark features wearing a white button down and a sport coat. The top two buttons are undone just enough to see his collarbones.

The club has a strict dress code for the restaurant. Briar often does a double take when she sees members out of their golf clothes. She wonders if he’s even allowed to show that much skin.

Shrugging it off, she continues toward her car, but not without looking back at the man. He’s still looking at her, curiously, taking a sip of his drink and turning away not long after she looks up.

She can’t help but get this strange feeling, almost as if the hairs on the back of her neck are standing straight up.

As the summer starts to heat up, so do her shifts at the course. By the end of them, Briar’s hair is sticking out sideways and her make up is smeared down her face. She bought a miniature fan that clips right to the visor of her cart to keep her cool throughout the day.

It’s just past 8:30 in the morning on Tuesday when she hears a familiar voice on the 8th hole. She squints and sees Niall, along with the dark haired man from the other night. There are a few guys she doesn’t recognize standing with them.

She maneuvers her cart through the winding path, closer to where the men are.

“There’s the beer angel!” Niall shouts. She smiles and shakes her head. He comes jogging over. “I hope you’re fully stocked this morning.”

“Yep, I am! I even have a few breakfast sandwiches, if you’re interested.”

His eyes light up as she pulls out a bacon, egg and cheese on an everything bagel from the warming drawer. Chef Lambo, the executive chef of the club, made them especially for Briar’s customers.

“Yesss. I’ll take one of those, a Mich Ultra, two Transfusions, and — H! What do you want?” He yells, partially turning to face his friend in the distance.

She faintly hears, “Casamigos!”

“And a Casamigos on the rocks, with a lime,” he finishes. It takes her only a few minutes to make the cocktails.

“Do you want these on your account?” Briar asks Niall.

He takes a huge bite of the bagel and mumbles, “No, you can put it all on my mate’s. Last name is Styles.”

Styles, or, “H” as Niall called him. The mystery man’s Last name is Styles. And, he’s a member here.

“Got it. Well, good luck today.”

“Thanks, we’ll need it. We’re trying to close a work deal with the two guys we’re playing with. Hey, don’t be afraid to swing by us multiple times. We can use all the schmoozing we can get,” he smiles.

“I think I can do that. Let me know if you need help, I’m told I’m very persuasive,” she smiles as she takes the emergency brake off of her cart. He throws another $20 in her jar and then waves, nearly dropping all of the items in his hands.

Niall returns to his group, handing out their drinks. Briar continues to watch before pulling away. H steps out from behind Niall, slightly lifting his cup — his lavender cup — towards her, as a thank you. His facial expression is stoic, watching her carefully.

She smiles to herself and drives off. The rest of the shift goes by in a blur. She swings by Niall and H’s group a few times. Each time, Niall greets her to grab more drinks and snacks.

Is that on purpose? If the drinks are on H’s account, why isn’t he coming over? She’d like to get a closer look at him. She chews on the inside of her lip and continues on with her closing duties. She loves the morning shift; in early, out early.

After parking her cart in the garage, she can see her uncle in the pro shop, glasses on the tip of his nose, peering down at something. She lightly knocks on the door and pushes it open.

“Hey, Briar bear,” he says, looking up at her. “How was your day?”

Briar sighs at her childhood nickname, plopping down on the couch by the practice putting green. Members can test out clubs before purchasing them in the pro shop, making it an optimal spot to hang out and mess around with all of the clubs.

“It was good, I just have to get used to waking up this early again. And I already know you’re going to say, ‘welcome to the real world, kid’, so just stop there,” she says sassily.

Patrick chuckles and focuses back on with his paperwork. They’re quiet for a few moments.

“What’re working on, anyway?” she asks, craning her neck to see what he’s doing.

“Just some budget sheets, and making a list of members who haven’t had a lesson from their amazing in-house golf pro,” he says, punching numbers into his phone calculator.

“They get a free lesson from you?”

“Yes, when they join. But now, to keep up member retention, we’re going to offer sessions to members who have been here for 5 years or more,” he scratches his temple. “Most of ‘em don’t need it, but I feel they always leave with a new drill to practice and some sage advice from yours truly.”

“That’s cool,” she replies absently.

“Wanna help?” Patrick asks her. She nods silently and takes a seat beside him. She sees a list of last names, first initial and an “X” next to their name if they’ve taken a lesson.

She notices an X next to “Horan, N.” but not “Styles, H”. Interesting.

Briar continues to audit the two lists, until she hears her uncle clear his throat.

“Hey, are you going to hang here for a bit? I need to run back into the main clubhouse for a few minutes.”

Patrick runs the pro shop solo during the day, until a high school or college kid can come in in the afternoon.

“Yeah, I’ll hang here. What do I do if someone needs something?”

“Then you can entertain them with your dazzling personality until I get back,” he teases, sticking his tongue out. “Alright, I’ll be back.”

“‘kay,” she says, walking back to her original spot on the sofa, laying her head back on the edge.

Her eyes are shut, only for a minute, until a brilliant idea pops in her head. She rises off the sofa and saunters over to the computer her uncle was just working on.

The employee portal is logged in under Patrick’s account. Briar doesn’t know much about it, aside from using it to clock in and clock out. It’s still on the member screen, an area she’s 100% sure she doesn’t have access to.

She peruses the site until she finds a “Member Look-Up” tab. Briar’s intrusive thoughts win.

She slowly punches in S-T-Y-L-E-S and waits for the results to populate. 2 results found.

She clicks on the first profile. An account pulls up for a Paul Styles, and a photo of a white-haired man pops up.

Well, that’s certainly not him, Briar thinks to herself. She exits out and clicks on the next account. No profile photo opens, but the name is at the top. She bites her thumbnail in anticipation of what she’ll see.

Harry Styles. H. Niall’s mysterious friend. The tequila lover.

She starts to scroll down the page. The profile is more bare than the other man’s, but she can see the basic things about him. He’s 41, joined the club 8 years ago. He lives in another pretentious town only a few miles away.

Then, she sees a “Member Activity” tab. Out of curiosity, she clicks on it. Her eyes widen, seeing every transaction he’s ever made on his account. His “dues” each year. Holy shit.

His purchases seem pretty standard for members of Wynnewood. Mostly rounds of Casamigos on the rocks (shocking) and dinners ranging from $100-$400, with a few bills over $1,000.

He joined 8 years ago, but his transactions have only begun to pick up in the last month or so. Before, his visits were sporadic at best.

Briar can’t even fathom having that sort of money to throw away. She started working at age 14 and never stopped. The only reason she gets a taste of country club life is because of her uncle.

She closes out the portal, not wanting to risk Patrick walking in while she’s snooping around. She returns to her spot on the sofa and begins playing 1010! on her phone.

She exhales and tosses her phone to the side. As she sits up, Patrick reenters the pro shop.

“Thanks, Bri. Heading home soon?”

“Yeah, I gotta get back home for Gus,” she smiles, thinking about her dog. Her baby.

“Alright, I’ll catch you later. Say hello to my buddy for me. And give him a butt scratch — Tell him it’s from Uncle Patty.”

“Will do. See ya.”

When she’s showered and comfy at home, with Gus, her Bernese Mountain Dog, snuggled at her side, she finally feels relaxed.

She’s worked nearly every day since she started. But, those are the sacrifices of a summer job.

She turns on Selling Sunset on Netflix to drown out the silence of her apartment. Already bored of this season, she pulls out her phone.

One last round of stalking, then she’ll let it go. She opens Instagram and begins typing in Harry’s name in the search bar. Nothing. Hm.

She tries Niall, immediately getting a hit. She clicks on his account to find it public, full of funny and happy photos. He’s clearly from Ireland, but has lived in the United States for some time. She wonders if he went to school here, or if he just got a job here.

She scrolls down to a group photo — on the golf course, of course — of Niall, Harry, and a few other guys. They look a lot younger here. She can see the photo is from 7 years ago. Harry’s stoic face is a stark contrast to Niall’s infectious smile. She clicks on the photo to see if Harry’s profile is tagged. Nothing.

Defeated, she moves onto LinkedIn. She tries Harry’s name again. Within 10 seconds of the search engine results popping up on the screen, her eyes land on exactly what she’s looking for. He has a profile. Her heart starts beating a little faster.

Really, Briar? All this for a guy you’ve barely caught a glimpse of? She clicks on the profile and sees the most gorgeous man at the top. He looked good from afar, but this is totally different.

Sticking out to her is his chiseled jaw, pouty lips, and beautiful (green?) eyes. His hair is longer in this photo than what she’s seen him with the past 2 times at the club, but she figures this page is old.

She scrolls down to the employment history. He works for a hedge fund. No wonder he has that kind of cash laying around. He’s been at the same company for a number of years, and received his bachelor’s degree from Georgetown and his MBA from the University of Pennsylvania. Smart dude.

She notes his MBA graduation year is 2006. She laughs, knowing she was probably still playing on a playground that year.

She exits out of the page, proud of her findings. She decides to text Cam about Niall’s friend.

B: Hey! So I totally stalked Niall online. His friend’s name is Harry! 😆

C: So funny, how’d u do it? 😂

B: Instagram for Niall, and earlier, I used Wynnewood’s portal to look up Harry. I just went on his LinkedIn, too. Now, I know all about his work and schooling, lol.

C: Your account is private, right? 😳

C: It notifies people if you’ve looked at their profile unless you’re private…

B: What?! I didn’t know that…WTF do I do?

Briar’s stomach drops. He’s probably already gotten the notification by now. She’s mortified. She logs back on to LinkedIn and deactivates her account. Reddit says those are her best chances of counteracting the notification.

She decides to go to bed, but ends up tossing and turning until 3 AM, knowing her alarm is set for 6:30. She stares at the ceiling, pleading for Harry not to show up at the club tomorrow.

The morning comes around, and after mustering enough courage to get up and make herself presentable, she rolls into work, ready to jump on her cart and be lazy. The universe (or Uncle Patrick, probably!) has a different plan.

Since it’s a holiday weekend, Briar is working inside for a change. She feels a little out of her element. She’s worked in restaurants in the past, but it’s always a little stressful when you have know idea where anything is, or how to use the register.

Taking a moment to survey the large banquet room, she doesn’t see Niall or Harry. She begins to relax. Until, 30 minutes later, she sees both of them enter and begin talking to the hostess.

Please don’t go to my section, she thinks. She watches the girl gathers 4 menus and turns to lead the men further into the room. Briar’s worry grows more with each step the hostess takes toward her section. Fuck.

She seats them down at a 4 person table right in the middle of Briar’s section, assuming the two men from yesterday will be joining them.

She takes a few deep breaths before grabbing a water jug and two stemmed water glasses. She casually approaches the table, lightly placing the water glasses down and filling them.

Niall looks up briefly with a smile before exclaiming, “There she is! I requested you to be our server after I saw you at the coffee machine over there.”

Briar smiles before turning her attention to Harry, who hasn’t glanced up from his menu. She looks back at Niall.

“Awesome! This is going to be great,” she lies through her teeth.

While this exchange is happening, she can feel Cam’s eyes burning through the back of her head. Cam is the service bartender of the day, so she has time to people watch and laugh at Briar’s bad luck.

“Are we waiting for any more guests to join us?” Briar asks.

Niall clears his throat and says, “Yes, those two blokes from yesterday. Harry here is going to close the deal with them today.”

Harry glances up at her with a shy smile. She reciprocates, unsure if he’s aware of her cyberstalking from last night.

“Wow, well, I’ll make sure my service is extra good, then. Can I throw in some drinks while you wait?”

“I’ll have an Old Fashioned. Harry?” Niall turns to his friend.

“Casamigos on the rocks for me, please. With a lime. Thank you.”

“You got it,” she says with a tight-lipped smile. Of course that’s the very first thing he ever says to her. And he’s BRITISH?

Cam laughs as the ticket prints at the bar.

“Oh, shut up,” Briar grumbles.

The other men finally arrive, and the meal goes by at a snail’s pace. When the group is finally ready to order, Briar is already mentally checked out. Briar goes to take Harry’s order.

“What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have the chicken, please,” he says simply.

“And how would you like that cooked?” Briar asks, furiously scribbling on her note pad.

Harry’s face contorts to a perplexed look, almost as if he was about to laugh.

“Um…cooked…all the way through?” He stifles a chuckle.

Niall bursts out laughing, cluing Briar in. She realizes the others ordered porterhouse steaks, so, out of habit, she asked how they’d like them prepared.

Her eyes go wide, “Right, well, I’ll go put these in. Thanks!” She shuffles away at lightning speed.

Harry stares at her from across the room, smirking when they make eye contact. She wants to bury her head in the sand trap on the golf course.

When the meal is done, the men shake hands, and Niall and Harry look relieved. They ask for another round of drinks for the two of them and the check. Niall heads toward the restroom while Harry pays. She tries to bolt as soon as the check is dropped, but she hears Harry clear his throat.

She turns to face him.

“We’re about to go play a quick round of 9-holes to celebrate. Are you our beer angel today, or are you stuck in here?” Harry says, as he opens his wallet.

Briar feels her heart begin to race. She’s sure her face is beet red. The word angel rolls off his tongue so easily.

“Um, no, I’m um, stuck in here for the rest of the day. I’ll be back on Sunday, though,” she says quietly.

“Shame, I was starting to think you were bringing me all of my luck. I’ve been crushing these guys in our last few rounds,” he smiles, swirling the remnants of his drink around.

She bites the inside of her lip, unsure if she should still be holding eye contact. He hands her the checkbook, full of cash. She smiles, unable to speak.

“Oh, and Briar— I’m an open book. If you wanted to know more about me, you could’ve just asked,” he says with a sickeningly sweet smile.

That’s the moment Niall returns to the table, and presumably the only reason she doesn’t drop to the floor in fetal position.

“Thanks, Briar. Lunch was great. We’ll see you next time,” Niall says sweetly.

“Thanks!” she squeaks, scurrying to the back, where she nearly mows down Cam.

“Woah! What’re you doing?” Cam squeals.

“He KNOWS!” Briar wails.

“Who? Who knows — OH!” Cam shrieks. “What did he say to you?”

“He said, ‘Briar, I’m an open book. If you wanted to know more about me, you could’ve just asked.’”

Cam’s mouth drops open. “Did he say it with his sexy accent and sultry voice?”

“Shut up!”

“Fine. Well, what did he tip you?” she asks, reaching for the book in Briar’s hand.

She opens it, finding enough cash to cover the $450 tab, and an extra $300 as a tip.

“Damn! Who has that much cash at one time?” Cam laughs.

Briar flips to the back of the book, only to find a note on a small piece of paper:

I’m an Aquarius, in case you were wondering. : - )

She stares blankly at the note. When did he have time to do this? Was he going to slip this note to her regardless? A million thoughts run through her head, until she hears Cam.

“What a creepy-ass old person smiley face,” she says, shaking her head.

Briar thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

Finally, her shift ends and she can escape the club, just for a day. As she heads towards the women’s locker room, she’s rummaging through her bag, attempting to fish out her street clothes so she can change as quickly as possible.

As she stalks closer to the locker room, she collides head-first into a firm, wet object. She feels strong hands grasp her hips to steady her.

“What the fuck?” she says, moving the hair out of her eyes, only to be met with a strong tattooed torso, partially covered by towel tied loosely around the person’s waist.

Her next words die in her throat as she looks up.

Harry.

Harry, who just left the steam room.

He smirks down at her, gently letting go of her waist. Suddenly, she feels hot, as if she were just in there with him. Briar’s fight or flight kicked-in, causing her to spin on her heels and flee in the opposite direction.

He senses she’d run, so he gently grabs her wrist, locking her in place. She peers up at him like a deer in headlights. His other hand is firmly planted on his hip to hold up his towel, in fear of giving the whole club a show.

He tilts her chin up so she’s making direct eye contact. Her stomach drops, sending a wave of nausea through her body. She studies his face; long eye lashes, slight stubble and two dimples that form as he smirks down at her softly.

“I told you, I’m not shy.”

He releases her chin and saunters back to the mens’ locker room.

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