it's raining outside, and higuruma is laying on your bedroom floor.
the soft pit-patter of raindrops coupled with his dancing fingertips against the exposed skin of your waist is a song you haven't quite learnt the tune to yet — he lays on his side, hair tousled and damp, dark strands curling over his forehead, sleeves rolled up and tie forgotten somewhere in the doorway.
admittedly, you're in no better shape. your cheeks are cold, skin of your calves wet with rainwater from running across the busy streets with him, armful of whatever ingredients you two picked out for dinner, his suit jacket held above your head and the occasional chorus of laughter when either of you stomp a puddle and splash the other.
it's raining, and higuruma thinks he falls in love with you every single day, like it's born anew.
he falls in love with the girl he wakes up next to, mouth open and cheek smooshed into the pillows. he falls in love with the girl who doesn't know a thing about law, but argues better than him in the heat of the moment. he falls in love with the girl who kicked her boots through puddles of rain, ruining his pants — the girl who made him laugh about something so mundane.
it's raining, and higuruma is laying on your bedroom floor, oddly paired with his formal white shirt and a pair of pajamas, his dress pants draped over the washer — the dryer broke a few days ago, he forgot — he holds you close as he watches the water droplets race against the glass window.
he loves you.
“do you like the rain?” you ask him, head tucked into his neck, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, the question is lost on him for a moment.
“i like you.”
you don't respond yet, and higuruma opens one of his eyes, only to find you staring at him. “more than you like the rain?” he almost laughs at that, almost, and he pulls you impossibly closer.
“a lot more than i like the rain, i’m sure.”
it's raining outside, and higuruma never really liked when it rained, not at all.
he proposed to you in spring. married you in summer.
but now he hopes it rains tomorrow, he hopes you still want him then, and he hopes you'll splash him with another puddle.
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“satoru…can you stop that.”
“stop what?”
satoru feigns an innocent expression, tilting his head to the side.
“stop putting mistletoe everywhere, it’s annoying.”
“but it’s the rules, my love!” gojo whines, pulling you closer to him as mistletoe hangs over you. You ignore him as he puckers his lips out at you.
Lately, you have been finding branches of mistletoe cello taped all over the house. each and every time that you look up, spotting the mistletoe, it’s convenient that satoru should be standing directly behind you.
“oh, would you look at that! Is that mistletoe I see? how did it get there?”
“‘toru, i saw you put that there.”
“oh did you?”
You’re beginning to grow suspicious of where he’s getting these stacks of mistletoe. You had asked him once but he had judged tapped his nose, signalling that he was sworn to secrecy.
“if you don’t tell me then i’m not kissing you.”
“you have to. It’s the rules. My Christmas rules.”
you snort, “and if I choose not to?”
“then you’ll be on the naughty list my love.”
you smirk, your hands running up satoru’s chest, “oh will I?”
Satoru hums, his eyes dropping down to your lips. You can see his desperation to kiss you as if you have been depriving him of kisses all day.
You let out a sigh, debating in your head on whether to kiss him or not.
“just this once.”
“just this once.” He repeats.
smoothly, you lean in and kiss satoru. his lips are soft as they meet yours, his hands cups your waist, pulling you deeper into the kiss.
you pull away seeing a satisfied smile on his face, his cheeks stretched with happiness.
“merry christmas my love.”
“merry christmas, ‘toru.”
I hope you all have happy holidays !
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This whole "simp martin" martin thing has got me thinking
Like
Jon: sex isnt on the table for me
Martin (who still cant even believe he got THIS far): thats not gonna be a problem for me
jon: yeah, don't expect sex me from, I rarely--if ever--desire it
martin, ecstatic at what all that leaves on the table: THAT'S WHERE YOU DRAW THE LINE???
jon, a little horrified: I have never seen anyone so excited to learn that sex is out of the equation
martin: I THOUGHT YOU HATED ME FOR A SOLID YEAR
jon: ...
martin: THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER
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If we are going to hold Aziraphale accountable for the things he has said to Crowley, then we can hold Crowley accountable for calling Aziraphale "stupid" and "idiot" because even if "he didn't mean anything by them" they are still fucking hurtful too.
"You idiot...we could have been us."
You think that didn't fucking hurt Aziraphale?
Seriously?!?!
Especially since Aziraphale had already been treating them like an "us" the entire season. "Our bookshop." "Our car." The shit that people try to claim is somehow abusive.
Once again, excusing Crowley's words and holding Aziraphale entirely accountable for his is just like when I was in Catholic school and they were like Eve ate the apple first so her sin was worse and we're just gonna let Adam's sin slide even though he ate the apple too because he only did it because Eve provoked him.
It doesn't work like that.
Double standards are so tiresome.
If Aziraphale doesn't get a pass for his hurtful words, then Crowley doesn't get a pass for his either.
It's that simple.
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Are there any flotation devices people can lay on? What happens if kids fall asleep on them?
Yes there are complementary tubes for guest at the waterpark but besides the big waterslide multi person tube they don’t really have much else lounging wise. Also external floatation devices can only be used in the main pools for safety reasons. (Arm floaties and swim vests are of course the exception) :)
If a kid falls asleep anywhere in the park staff will see to it that they are reunited with their parents (your park band will give you a buzz if an animatronic is currently trying to reach you)
Children will be well looked after until one of their parents arrives (don’t want anyone getting sunburned ;)
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