#i was tempted to also add The thing to my list because it is one of those movies that whenever it is on tv even if i have the dvd i stop

[themyscirah]

Okay game time again

Can you name 5 villains associated with each JLA listed member?

Answer hidden in tags or under a cut so you don't spoil it for others! By associated villains I just mean ones who were created to fight any of the following characters or are known for doing so (so rogues, but important non-recurring villains are accepted too). Grouped into modes by my guesses of villain popularity just cause. Definitely possible some of these guys don't go up to five (thinking maybe MM for this just because he's had less solos) so just name as many as you can there.

Easy Mode:

Batman

Superman

Medium:

Flash

Wonder Woman

Green Lantern

Hard Mode:

Aquaman

Green Arrow

Martian Manhunter

Feel free to reblog and add more if you think there's someone I missed that you'd want to have people guess on!!!!!!

Edit: Forgot Billy so Captain Marvel as well counts here!

[fugitoidkry]

TEN MOVIES I LOVE

Tagged by @pinkasrenzo thank you!!! :D

1) Arrival (2016) 

2) Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003) 

2) Colossal (2017) 

4) The favorite (2018) 

5) Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) 

(Okay but i need to make a small comment on this one: i didn’t want to put two Spiderman movies in my list because i didn’t want to repeat myself, but! BUT. Spiderman II by Sam Raimi? Is close to my heart.)

6) Dead Ringers (1988) 

7) What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1963)

8) The Fifth Element (1997)

9) Little Miss Sunshine (2006)

10) Lilo & Stitch (2002)

And since you wrote a honourable mention in your post for Young Frankenstein (i love that movie), here is mine for Princess Bride (1987)

tagging: @emmerrr @absolutebearings @neon-knight

[halfbit]

i am getting started on productivity for the night but haven't figured out yet if i want to write or art first and there's also the tiny part of my brain that just wants to stare at kabru until it is ok to stop staring at kabru

[mushroomates]

gandalf headcanons

hides spare pipe weed under his hat . pippin saw him do it one time. no one believes pippin.

even when he’s like- let me access my emergency stash- and pulls out a doobie from his hat. everyone’s like “woah such wizardry”

it drives pippin bonkers.

will cheat at cards, chess, checkers- has been known to enchant dice to make them weighted. again, denies

just a reminder that he canonically sleeps with eyes open. i’d also like to add that he can sleep standing up. he also does do both during long meetings sometimes.

the sleeping w eyes open particularly messes with legolas. he can’t handle prolonged eyecontact on a good day and now this wizard is staring into his soul and is only maybe conscious

sleeps on his back, stiff as a board. occasionally sits up, pauses, has a brief moment of lucidity and then goes back to bed

also sometimes talks in his sleep. in various languages. sometimes legolas is certain these languages are made up, but they’re spoken with such vigor it seems hard to believe that

you can have full conversations with him. they’re not particularly intelligent or understandable conversations but still very interesting dialogues that he does not recall in the morning. a favored topic is the inflated price of everything.

this is particularly amazing because gandalf does not pay for most things.

often things are gifted. sometimes he finds them, and keeps them as his own. more often than not he mooches off of others, and at times, has been known to take things

not steal. if you stopped him he’d give it back. but no one really has.

he just kind of. picks up something. looks at you. and walks away with it

sometimes will leave small tokens in return,, like rocks with strange runes on them or a single feather

sometimes will return the item after days, months, or years (decades, centuries)

oh i meant to give it back but then the civilization collapsed so-

he tends to favor things shaped like other things- a tea pot that is a boot, a spoon that’s shaped like a flower (evil evil EVIL) salt and pepper shakers that are little houses

also has a fascination with garden gnomes. will often take them ‘home’ as well. where do they go? who knows but they’re his now

no one knows where they go or what he does with what he acquires. a running theory is he has a secret house that no one is allowed in that’s full of weird knick-knacks

in actuality, he gives most of these things away. the garden gnomes are for tom bombadill, the weird spoons are for thranduil because he gives them to legolas and legolas HATES spoons that aren’t *spoons*

arwen is charmed by crossstich, galadriel likes weird soaps and candles, (gandalf the cheese wizard doubles as gandalf the bed bath and beyond wizard.)

saruman does not like novelty salt shakers but gandalf is convinced he does and keeps giving them to him.

on that note gandalf thinks towers are gaudy and would never have one

is very tempted to set up shop in the shire. everyone is against this idea which is why he really wants to.

Disturber Of The Peace- literally loves to uproot unsuspecting hobbits for fun

most known being the baggins, but like, he’s not above standing outside the proudfoots home with a ~mysterious~ envelope until he’s batted away with a broom or very passive aggressively dismissed

he’s like a stray cat that they need to stop feeding with adventures

there’s a list written by the thain of the shire “appropriate times to set off fireworks” . “never” and “when given explicit permission” are the only two things written. unfortunately gandalf is selectively literate

he does not, ever, know what time it is. if he does he won’t tell you-at least in a way that’s understandable to normal people

what’s the time? “it’s today” okay and when is that? “now” thanks buddy.

what times sunset? “when the moon is rising.” when’s that? “at the end of the day”

yk island time? that’s wizard time. just. no sense of any sort of time passing at all. it could be an hour or five days and he will refer to it as a minute. or vise versa. you invite him for tea on tuesday and he shows up on sunday, in the dead of night, with a hand full of seashells and covered in ash. no explanations. he leaves just as suddenly as he came, with a hermit crab in your kettle and dishes in the sink. but yeah, technically, he was there for tea on tuesday.

or arrives four weeks later because you didn’t say what tuesday.

it’s anyone’s guess, including him, what he has in his pockets. four twigs, each exactly 17 centimeters long? sure. half ball of twine wrapped around a chunk of moss? why not. three tea bags, clearly used, tied together and soaking wet. a small glass bottle with strange dust labeled “numbers”. a single tooth. reading glasses, cracked, missing a lense with a shoelace tied around the bridge. he doesn’t even wear glasses.

don’t. ever. ask him for directions. he can give you them, just. in a way that’s so alien that they’re impossible to follow

he kinda just. goes off of vibes? like if it feels like the right distance he will do with it. it’s not miles away but that sounds right

in his heart it is.

is always right. no amount of reason can convince him otherwise

at best, you’re both wrong but still. he knew it all along

rarely knows the right lyrics to things. if he’s called out he’ll just say “well in this version..” because he’s been everywhere and is ancient so no one can really argue

picks fights with a shocking large number of birds.

randomly and for seemingly no reason, in a multitude of languages most long forgotten.

[bunny-lily]

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. 

“Not quite,” the unfairly gorgeous stranger replied with a snicker from where he leaned against the fence, “but I’m flattered.” CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here)

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

Yo

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 ♥

[harrywavycurly]

Just to soothe my need for fratty daddy Harry could I tempt you with a forehead kiss to maybe write him and a southern belle meeting? Doesn’t have to be our SC girlie but just another sassy southern to put him in his place?🩷

Hiiii lovey!! Okay because I love a forehead kiss and also frat Harry I will give you a little something!😂💖

*keep in mind this isn’t the Southern Comfort universe, this is just Frat!Harry meeting a sassy Southern!Reader*

A/N: Harry doesn’t have time for autographs but you just need help reaching a jar of sauce, enjoy✨

Harry is exhausted, he just wants to grab some things to make for dinner and head home with causing as little of a scene as possible. He tugs at the beanie he wore to help tame his curls and possibly make it a little harder for someone to recognize him as his eyes scan the selection of pasta in front of him, when he makes the decision to just go with a simple spaghetti he feels someone gently tap on his shoulder. He lets out a small sigh and is quick to put on a smile before he turns to see who it is that tapped him on the shoulder.

“M’sorry I don’t really have time for any autographs right now.” He tries his best to come off as polite as possible in hopes the woman staring up at him will understand that not every situation is an appropriate time to ask for him to sign something or pose for a photo.

“Well you see now sugar that’s actually perfect,” Harry’s eyes go a bit wide as your thick country accent fills his ears taking him off guard. “because I wasn’t gonna ask you for one anyway.” You watch as the smile on his face slowly morphs into a frown of sorts as his brows pinch together. “I just wanted to see if I could borrow a few of your inches and have you grab a jar of pasta sauce for me?” Harry’s eyes follow your finger as you turn your head and point towards a jar that’s on the top shelf of the aisle the two of you are on.

“Sure you can uhm,” Harry fights a smirk as he looks back at you making you raise your eyebrow at him. “Borrow a few of my inches.” You don’t miss the way his eyes quickly glance down to the crotch of his jeans before he looks back to you and shoots you a wink. Harry can’t help himself as he bites his bottom lip as he notices just how cute you are in your cut off shorts and t shirt that says “not my first rodeo” and the way you have to take a slight step backwards to look up at him as you place a hand on your hip.

“Oh well you know what they say don’t you honey?” Harry’s eyes travel back up to yours as you give him a sly smile while your hand reaches out and gently lands on his arm. “It’s not the size of the ship but it’s the motion of the ocean so it’s okay that you only have a few inches for someone to borrow.” You give his arm a light pat before you turn around and head back towards your cart that’s right in front of the pasta sauce section of the aisle leaving Harry standing there with a slight scowl on his face as a scoff leaves his lips.

“I have a nice sized ship thank you very much.” You know he’s offended by the sharp tone of his voice as he follows you towards your cart, his box of spaghetti still in his hands. “And I know how to work the ocean.” He adds as he watches as you point to the jar you want from the top shelf so he can grab it for you.

“Oh so you’re a sailor?” You ask with a smile as he hands you the jar, this earns you an eye roll from him before he looks down at you with a glare.

“A sailor? No I’m Harry Styles.” He waits for the realization of what he just said to sink in and for you to react in the way he’s used to which often includes a scream or at the very least a gasp of some sort and rushing to hug him.

“That’s not a career sugar that’s just a name.” Harry doesn’t know what to do when you just place the jar of pasta sauce into your basket and reach towards the front of it where you have your grocery list so you can cross the item off. “Don’t get me wrong now honey it’s a nice name but it’s just a name.” You explain as you look back at him and see the same slight frown on his face as when you told him you didn’t want an autograph.

“You don’t know who I am do you?” He asks with raised brows and when you just start pushing your cart down the aisle he has no choice but to follow behind you.

“Of course I do,” Harry gets hit with what he feels is a sense of relief as you stop to grab a box of spaghetti from the shelf, the same kind that he has in his hand. “You’re Harry Styles who’s not a sailor and doesn’t have time for autographs right now.” Your response makes Harry run his free hand over his face as he lets out what you swear sounds like a groan while you cross pasta off your list.

Harry opens his mouth to respond but before he can he finds himself looking at the back of your head as you continue down the aisle. His grip on the box of pasta in his hand tightens as he takes two long strides so he’s once again standing behind you as you turn the corner and head down the baking aisle. He doesn’t know why your lack of reaction to finding out who he is bothers him so much but it does.

“What’s your name then? Since you now know mine it’s only polite that you give me yours.” You laugh and shake your head as you stop a few feet down the aisle in front of the sacks of sugar.

“Sorry honey I don’t give my name to strange British men who follow me around but if you’d like to make yourself useful do you mind grabbing that sugar for me? They switched shelves it used to be on the bottom and now it’s all the way up there.” He doesn’t know what it is about you that makes him just do whatever it is that you’re asking. Maybe it’s the way your eyes go all soft and round as you look up at him mixed with your accent that thickens when you’re explaining the way the sugar is now on the top shelf instead of the bottom but either way he finds himself reaching up effortlessly and grabbing the sack of sugar you asked for and handing it to you.

“I’m not following you around.” He argues making you just laugh as you place the sugar in your cart and cross it off your list before continuing down the aisle.

“Whatever you say sugar plum.” Your voice is teasing as Harry stands there chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watches you get further away from him and he has to remind himself why he even came to the store in the first place as he looks down at the pasta in his hands. “Have a good rest of your night honey.” His head shoots up and he sees you give him a smile and a wave before you turn and go to the next aisle and as much as he wants to fight it he can’t help the small smile that forms on his face as he turns on his heels and heads back to the pasta aisle to grab a jar of sauce so he can finally be on his way home.

[jojo-oliver]

How to tumblr for artists… my own version

A collection of things that have been working for me, but may not work for everyone

~~~ your posts ~~~

!!!reblog your own stuff!!! you need to reblog your own stuff, there is nothing morally wrong with reblogging your own stuff regularly. in fact, it is morally right to allow the chance for more people to see your artwork.

~~~ queue it!! ~~~ my queue is 500 posts strong. maybe don't try to make your queue hundreds of posts strong in the same day omg but like… once every month or two i'll go through my whole blog and just scroll and "add to drafts" to every one of my own posts i have. then i'll use the "mass post editor" to add content warning tags. and add to queue, and shuffle. and then I write down what the date was for when I last added my posts to be reblogged on queue. this is helped by turning on timestamps for posts in tumblr "dashboard preferences" settings.

queueing is necessary and life saving for me. It takes out so much work with decision fatigue and the anxiety around posting. It also guarantees that even if I suddenly need time off or away from my phone, I don't just disappear and lose all traction. It also breaks the instant-gratification cycle that you expect when you finish an artwork. It's hard to keep creating when you post something and, when you're expecting to get that gratification, you get none... If you queue your new artwork to come out at a later time, you've separated that expectation - with time. It hurts less and contributes to a more consistent gratification thing instead of peaks and troughs.

~~~ tag ya stuff ~~~ when you're making a new post, the first 20 tags are what gets put into the searchable tags. do not feel shame for using lots of tags. shame is the mind-killer. tags are hard. hard to know what to tag a post with. hard to remember the tags. so I found some ways to help myself. maybe they'll help you too. dedicate some time towards just figuring out what tags you want to use. i have a list in my phone notes that i add tags to and reference whenever i'm making a new post. i have the phone right beside the laptop while i'm tagging so that i can just look at it and scroll. tags are the only way for people to find your artwork, other than people manually coming to your blog because they saw you somewhere. there is no algorithm. posting without tags, until you have an established fanbase, is throwing something into the void.

When I'm doing tag research, I look at what people seem to use - when you put something in the search bar, tumblr recommends you some that have a higher following, typically. Looks like this on desktop:

if you like one tag, look at what other people who use that tag also tag their posts with. Observe and learn how this tag is used. search through a bunch of them and write them down.

here's what i got in my notes, for the specific kind of art I post and look for:

these tags are sort of specific to me and the kind of art I make. You'll want to research your own tags, but this is an example of how I keep them organized to make posting more effective. I generally only write down a tag when it's got more than 2k followers. You might be tempted to use the tags with millions of followers, but I've actually found those a lot less functional for small artists. If your stuff doesn't immediately get a bunch of notifications, you're drowned out and pushed to the bottom much faster. But the bigger tags are better than no tags, so I keep them if I can't think of anything else to tag something with.

~~~ post at the right times….? ~~~

fridays and saturdays is when I post fresh new things... usually. every website has it's own peak hours, and you can find those hours in many different online articles that try to sell you social media growth services. tumblr is unique in having later hours.

here's some random graph from google images:

please don't over think this. please don't let this consume the idea of when to post, preventing you from posting at all. it doesn't mean too much - if you post during very active hours, maybe your art would just be pushed down the feed faster. if you post at the end of hours, maybe everyone's going to sleep… if you post at inactive hours, maybe there's less 'competition'… if you post at the beginning of active hours, maybe that's just more time for your post to circulate for the day, if you have enough people reblogging it once it drops....

this also is in EST. So fuck the other time zones, I guess. I'm over here in europe knowing that the "best" time to post would be like 2-3am or something. It's like this for most english-speaking majority sites - higher traffic in north american time zones.

it's also worth mentioning that this is scattered as heck, compared to other social media sites. and it's not like, the activity times of your followers. it's not the best time to post for your niche. this is just tumblr, broadly. all of tumblr.

~~~ Plan ahead for annual dates ~~~

Your artwork will get more circulation if it's posted on a celebratory day. You could just put them on your calendar and if you're wondering what to make, look on the calendar for what's coming soon. For example, asexual awareness day, trans day of visibility, location-specific holidays, etc. Here's my phone notes thing with my own recorded annuals:

I got these dates from googling and reading different articles, but I find that I still miss dates, and then I add them for next year. If you know of some I missed, tell me and I'll add them please <3

~~~ reblog other people's stuff ~~~

tumblr is sorta about ecosystems. things get passed around within groups of people that are all following eachother. to enter this ecosystem, you must engage and reblog other people's stuff too.

if you reblog other artists' stuff, sometimes they'll come over and reblog your stuff too. sometimes they'll follow you back. this is called becoming a mutual. I'll search specific tags for the kinds of people I want to follow and the kind of art I like - those are listed in the screenshot of my tag note under "Tags for finding new people".

I see a lot of blogs out there that are very clean, posts are tagless, and are only for the artists' content. like scrolling through a portfolio. I imagine this is good for people who are migrating to tumblr but already have their own established fanbase from elsewhere.

you don't need to do reblog other people's stuff on your art blog, you can do this on a separate blog. but if the two don't look very closely correlated, it's hard to tell who you are when you're interacting. and hard to make sure people know that you are the same person as your art blog. and you gotta remember to promote yourself on your personal blog.

~~~ have an art tag ~~~

make your blog easy to search!

if i go to your blog, and you've written 'artist' or 'sometimes art' in your bio, i wanna see it… it make me so sad when i don't get to see it. i want to reblog it. please let me reblog it :(

to make a tag on your own blog searchable, you don't need to repost it to add a tag. you don't even need to reblog it. you can actually just go back to the original post and edit it to add your tag. I've seen post people just have their art tag be something like #(blogname)art . you can see my own in my tags image above. if it's very unique, then it'll work tumblr-wide. I think that's good, since the tumblr search function is really weird. Otherwise it should still work if it's not entirely unique, people just have to make sure they're searching specifically your blog to see only your stuff.

I like to have a link in my pinned post where people can click to have immediately searched for my art tag. Convenience is king. Keep in mind that most people are on mobile, and if something isn't immediately clickable, they often won't find it.

~~~ be consistent and be patient ~~~

!!!this time will pass anyway!!! how many notes you have is not correlated with how good you are as an artist. wanting to earn something from your art means you essentially have two jobs. two potentially full time jobs. this shit's difficult. most of the job is promoting yourself. don't undersell how hard it is to do… don't feel bad for not immediately succeeding. I would write about how hard it's been to promote myself, but it would just be long and sad I think.

This isn't a full guide, please feel free to add more!!

I'm sure in another year I'll disagree with a lot of this, it will become irrelevant with time, and I'll have a lot of different opinions. Chip in and share what you've been doing? Teach me? This is very overwhelming. Don't do it all at once, just like, try one thing at a time, and see how it works for you. Your niche might be different. One size does not fit all. If you're confused about some of the things I talk about in here, you might be on mobile. I do most of my queueing and posting from the desktop browser version.

I will update this with more as things change, but I think you'll have to click through to see the updated post

[quillofspirit]

2023 fic recs

If there's one thing to know about me, is that I love to read! and I love to share the good fics, so I figured I would put them all on one list💚

pssst! it's my first time doing anything like this, so if you have recommendations for the format, please do leave them in the comments or drop me a message! thanks xx

Key 🍬 fluff 🧯 spicy 🌡️ smut ⛈️ angst 🌪️ all

For people I have tagged, please let me know if there is anything you’d like me to add or remove — like a link to another account. It’ll be my pleasure☺️

Lord of the Rings (and related)

⛈️🧯Fuck the Forbidden pt. 1 by @entishramblings

Boromir x mermaidfem!oc Teens and Up but read the warnings carefully 9,500 words

Now I want mermaids in everything. why aren’t there mermaids in everything? The descriptions are so well done, everything is so vividly easy to visualize, oh I just loved it.

I am so hyped for pt 2!!

🍬⛈️ Healing Touch by @ass-deep-in-demons

Boromir x fem!oc Teens and Up 4,350 words

My film studies degree was very happy about the descriptions of movement in this one - it’s a little specific but hear me out. It’s much easier to see the actors playing the scene when it’s described this well! THAT ENDING, I have to say I joined Legolas, and I don’t have excuses.

I cannot wait to read the rest of the adventures of Joanna!

🍬 I Might Need to Kiss You by @fizzyxcustard

Thorin Oakenshield x fem!reader 400 words

I was squealing, this is so sweet. like the perfect little pick me up when you need a reminder, and Thorin is nothing if not a good king to his subjects 😇

🍬 Sweet Conversations by @glassgulls

Haldir x fem!reader Teens and Up 5,360 words

did I almost break my mouse when I clicked on this? noooo

Would I do it again? approximately 5 times since ☺️

Who doesn’t love sneaking around and kissing pretty elves, especially when they propose the idea so nicely… Just read it, you’re welcome

⛈️🧯Transformed by @sotwk

Thranduil’s son OC x fem!reader Teens and Up 2,400 words

There are at least two werewolves! When I tell you I read it three nights in a row, just to truly catch all the little things that made me go absolutely feral this so lovely to read. Yes, there’s gore (only a little bit) and there’s angst, but there’s also dialogue that would be made into gifs were it a movie.

Pirates of the Caribbeans

🌪️Catch the Wind by eriathiel (@esta-elavaris)

James Norrington x fem!oc Explicit 418,000 words

101 chapters of epic, pirates, and sweetness. The definition of you will suffer and you will like it. I finished this in like two days, because I couldn’t put it down, like a child on Halloween night going through their whole bag of candy.

⛈️🍬 Fallen Through Time by eriathiel (@esta-elavaris)

Catch the Wind AU Mature Ongoing; 34,000 words

12 Chapters so far, but it’s probably going to make me want to read everything about Theodora again. I am very normal about this character. 😌

Other fandoms

🌡️One of Those days by @capricornafterdark

Jason Todd x fem!reader Explicit 750 words

Sometimes you need to be taken care of, and sometimes its easier to take care of others.

🍬Patience by @velvetcloxds

Charlie Swan x fem!reader Just straight cuteness 600 words

A cute yet serious conversation with Charlie

🌡️That Takes Trust Darlin by @capricornafterdark

Jason Todd x transmasc!reader Explicit 1,950 words

It takes a lot of trust to tell a person about your desires, and even more when you spend your time catching villains.

🌪️ What Happens After You? by StrengthBeforeWeakness

Ominis Gaunt x fem!oc Mature 219,000 words

A badass Ravenclaw, sweet sweet Garreth, and dark!Sebastian. I am tempted to say it’s almost a Hogwarts Legacy AU because the lore in this fic is so incredible, it feels new again.

These are my headers and dividers, please do not use them.

[oranberryorion]

hii!!! im new on rotumblr but all my friends in bba were using it and kept asking if i had it. now i do!!

you can send me asks or whatever and ill respond for sure!!! not like i have much better things to do xD

updated 9/5 10:00 (boundary update + updated story)

ooc

i have to say: im new to tumblr and to rotumblr also, (started rotomblr 6/31) but i really love orion and wanted to make an rp blog for him becasue im bored and i have so much free time ..........

about the mun!!!

hi! orions mun here!! figured i should write this now as of 8/8, i havent introduced myself ?!!!??

you can call me adon or guy!!! guy is more the silly nickname but i truly dont mind what you call me ^_^

i go by he/him strictly but you can freeball with neos if you want

ive been into pokemon since i can remember :3 b/w was my first games, but ive played back to emerald and ive played the entire sv dlc and all!!!

a mutual of mine from my main account happened to have a rotomblr account, and when i looked through some of it, i got interested and made an account too!!!

interaction!!!

pelipper mail/malice: ☑️

musharna mail/malice: ☑️

mystery gifts: ☑️

magic anon: ☑️

in character anon hate: ☑️

please remember that if any of the mails/anons oversteps my boundaries, then i probably wont respond.

this is also pretty important to say: i dont care WHO interacts with me. fallers, sapients, eebydeebys, hybrids, ocs, self-inserts, in-game characters, i LOVE interaction. i respond to anything i see as fast as i can and unless its weird or stepping beyond my boundaries i WILL interact back!!!!!

that being said, i should establish some things

- mod is 15, orion is 16! nothing nsfw. suggestive jokes i really dont care but hes 16 so you should know the boundaries for that

- any rotumblr blog is allowed to interact (back). literally anyone. you want a sapient pokemon to talk to orion?? he'll answer!! want an eeby deeby to roleplay with orion?? ill respond!! even fallers or such, (as my own bff literally has two faller blogs LOL) asks, anons, general questions, spam mail, ask games, interaction is always allowed!!!!

- i love character events and planning. if you have an idea for a small event between our characters, or a type of relationship they have, anything, please let me know!!! my discord is adonciant and you can add me (im not always active, so ill try and accept any friend requests or such as fast as i can) OOORR you can just dm me on here!!! preferably keep it to orion, so dont go messaging my main about anything ^_^

- i (accidentally) do long threads of reblogs/interactions. i swear none of it is purposeful, i just happen to interact back if i get no indicator of an ending conversation. if you want, you can make an ooc tag to tell me to stop reblogging back or anything. these threads do not get tagged with anything, either.

- theres some content warnings to this blog, roughly listing: spoilers for sv dlc, emotional abuse, drug/substance abuse, scientific experimentation/human bioengineering stuff, traumatic responses, and any mild suggestive jokes that may pop up. more are to be added if any should be added

- this is exclusive to orions blog because of a certain anon that came from the associated grimsley account with orions lore. do not mention trafficking to him or the mun myself. orion was not trafficked nor sold. always think before you send an anon that there is a person behind the screen who has to read it.

- my main is @adonciant ! likes and follows come from there! + the pfp is orion, so you'll know who it is ^_^

if you wanna learn a little bit about him....

orion was born as a single child, and grimsley often visited him and took him out of town on trips. he was passionate about turning orion into a strong dark specialist, to which grimsley often took him out of the region to catch pokemon for his team.

one day, colress approached the two with a gamble that grimsley was tempted by; lots and lots of money. however, it risked handing orion over to colress

colress won the gamble, and took orion with him to alola. colress was met with new technology and research from both the ultra recon squad and the aether foundation, which drove him to study about the human body and the effect pokemon could have on them.

colress used stolen research and parts of technology to craft a mechanical body for orion

now he has a cybernetic body! later on he attended bba ^_^ feel free to ask orion how his body works i have fun writing ways for it to function

i may come back and edit some of this info. again i dont know what im doing on here but im figuring it out as i go 😭

POKEMON NAMES!!! his team finally has namess!!!!

hydreigon: colbur

scrafty: hondew

shiftry: aguav

weavile: enigma

samurott: rindo

grimmsnarl: dyna

[wrenrogue]

Kuroken AU where Kuroo looks through Kenma's tablet notes app for some passwords Kenma told him would be there. He finds what he needs but scrolling through the notes he finds something else. He finds a note, last updated three weeks ago and titled "Kuro" and nothing else.

It's a list and a pretty long one at that. It goes like this:

Favorite Soup: Miso because he's boring, but sometimes he prefers it with clam or fish balls because he likes his docosahexaenoic acid

Favorite Suit Fabric: Worsted wool, because he likes how comfortable it is, but many of his current ones are a polyester blend for less wrinkles. I prefer him in silk though

Favorite Tie: Standard sized with basic patterns like stripes or polka dots because he "needs to be professional but not too much that he loses personality." Buy him novelty ties sparingly or he'll be tempted to wear the tackiest ones everyday like a high school science teacher

Favorite color: Red and blue in equal amounts since that's what makes up half his clothes in our closet. I don't think he's noticed yet. Black is my favorite color on him, especially when it's form fitting

Favorite Dessert: Dorayaki, but he doesn't have much of a sweet tooth because he's an old man that likes salty foods more

Favorite Onigiri Filling: Umeboshi because it reminds him of his grandparents

Favorite Vending Machine Drink: Chilled green tea because it's not sweet for his old man taste buds

Favorite Ice Cream Flavor: Vanilla like his sex fantasies and claims it's a good base to add toppings, though he only ever adds sprinkles

Favorite Shampoo Scent: He likes green apple because he says it's a fresh scent, but we both know it's because I've been using green apple shampoo all my life and still do, and he's too lazy to buy his own shampoo now that he lives with me

Favorite Laundry Detergent and Fabric Softener Brands: 'Attack' because that's what his dad uses and 'FaFa' because he finds the brand bear mascot cute

Favorite Alcoholic Beverage: Whiskey on the rocks and calls it his big boy drink. He also likes warm shochu in the winter

Favorite Sports Shoe Brand: ASICS, he likes to have a white pair to coordinate with his suits when he needs to be on the court on business. He keeps separate black ones for his sport activities so the business ones stay clean longer

Favorite Flower: Camellia, since he brings them to me all the time. I asked the gardener to plant some in the back garden, so he can have a supply closer to home

Favorite Type of Fish: Mackerel because it's affordable and high in nutrients

Coffee or Tea? He prefers hot teas without any sugar, but his coffee must be black if he drinks it, because he's boring and a tired salaryman. DO NOT give him espresso though, he can't handle it and also do not offer creamers or sugars because he claims it's for the youths

Things He Needs:

New socks, I saw some holes on his work socks the other day

New cologne, because he's running out and I like him smelling nice

More shaving cream and razors since he doesn't like how scratchy his skin feels, even though I like it

A new dress shirt since I accidentally spilled sauce on one of his favorite ones when I wore it and I couldn't clean the stain off

More hoodies so I can steal his old ones permanently

New volleyball equipment for the backyard so he can practice at home

New ties because all my tugging him down for kisses ruined the fabric of many of the ones he currently has

A new bento box for his lunch since he's still using the one from university

iPhone, Apple Watch, iPad because he needs to upgrade and get with the times

A copy of Pokemon Pearl so I can trade exclusives easier and also so I can beat his ass in battle

New slippers since the cats peed on his current ones while he was at work and I don't think he's caught on yet

A gaming chair so he can join me in streams and videos easier

Things He Likes (and I like):

Grocery store dates

When I win him stuffed animals at festivals

When I make him lunch for work

When I wear his shirts and nothing else

When I kiss him on the forehead before he heads off to work

Hugging him close at night when he's had a bad day

Holding my hand or having his arm over my shoulders when we're walking

When I leave the door unlocked when I'm in the shower

When I let him sleep on my lap while I play my games

Kuroo scrolled through the rest of Kenma's notes about him, it was full of things he liked and how he liked them and things he needed and why. And despite the teasing commentary in some, Kuroo couldn't help but feel loved.

They were all observations, things Kuroo hadn't even noticed about himself; and they were quiet, detailed and sometimes snarky, typical of Kenma. He reached the end of the very very long list to what must've been the newest update from three weeks ago.

It read: Ring Size - 67 mm in circumference, I'll need to ask what size that is for rings at the jewelers.

Kuroo wanted to kiss him. And he did when Kenma got home later that day from the errand he had to run that afternoon.

Kenma barely leaves the genkan before Kuroo has him in his arms, kissing him fervently "What's gotten into you?" Kenma asks, a little dazed and a couple inches off the floor for optimal kissing distance.

Kuroo lowers Kenma down, but doesn't let go "I'm just so in love with you."

Kenma looks up at him, admiration very evident, "I love you too."

It's a quiet night for them, Kuroo finds himself with his head on Kenma's lap as they watch the latest volleyball ball match of the season. Kuroo comments on a failed play and how it would've been better if they'd done it another way.

"Easily the worst play this game, right Kenma?" Silence. "Kenma?" Kuroo looks up at Kenma, expecting him to be on his phone, but instead he's looking down at him, eyes smiling, but a hint of nervousness, a hint of shyness not typical of Kenma.

At least not when it comes to Kuroo. Kuroo reaches up to caress Kenma's cheek, "Everything alright?"

Kenma brings his hand over Kuroo's, "I'm just so in love with you."

Kuroo snorts "That's my line"

"Can it be my line too?"

"You can have anything you want," Kuroo whispers as he turns his hand to hold Kenma's instead.

"Can I have your hand then?" Kenma says threading his fingers with Kuroo's.

"You're holding it?"

Kenma scrunches his nose "Wrong hand."

Kuroo raises his other one, "This one?"

Kenma rolls his eyes, digging through his hoodie pocket "Not the right hand either." He takes out a ring, a simple platinum band with small neat stones around it, "This hand."

Kuroo looks from the ring in Kenma's hand to his face and back to the ring. "Ring Size: 67 mm in circumference. I'll need to ask what size that is for rings at the jewelers" the last update on Kenma's list had said.

"Tetsurou, will you marry me?"

Kuroo answers by leaning up and kissing the love of his life.

Kenma responds quickly, dragging and rearranging Kuroo on top of him, game forgotten as they remained liplocked for the rest of the evening.

"So is that a yes?" Kenma asks coyly as he draws shapes on Kuroo's chest.

They might've done more than kiss on their couch if their pants on the carpet were any indication of that. Kuroo rubs his chin, pretending to think, "I think it's only fair to elope now that you've deflowered me"

Kenma scowls pinching Kuroo's nipple making him yelp in pain, "I change my mind. I don't want your hand in marriage."

"No take backs," Kuroo pinches Kenma's ass in revenge. "Besides I found the list that proves you love me" he teases

"What list?"

"The one on your tablet in your notes where you list all my favorite things"

"You found that??"

"Yeah, this morning when I was looking for those passwords you told me were there"

"Oh" Kenma says, face red trying to cover it with his hair, "Well, you have a list of me too"

Kuroo tucks Kenma's hair behind his ear so he can see his face again, "Yeah, I do" he looks at him with fond eyes, "I'm just so in love with you."

Kenma smiles, fondness and admiration evident as he looks at Kuroo, "I'm just so in love with you too," he says as he leans down to kiss Kuroo once more as tenderly as he feels for the love of his life.

They spend the rest of their night in each other's arms, ring long forgotten, until the next morning when they find it between the cushions.

Kuroo finally says Yes when Kenma asks again for his hand in marriage over breakfast, slipping the ring on his finger, 67 mm in circumference.

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 7🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 7 "Stress Tested"

Timestamp: 00:36:06

Video Length: 4min. & 43sec.

Adaine gets a job at Basrar's! 😆😀

Brennan: "Who else knows what their DC 5, their first focus and priority's gonna be?"

Siobhan: "I'm gonna go job because up until now my academics are pretty good. So I can focus..."

Brennan: "You are not in danger of expulsion."

Siobhan: "Exactly. So, I can have one week where I dip a little bit."

Brennan: "Hell yeah."

Siobhan: "If I have to."

Brennan: "Let's see what the roll is."

Siobhan: "Omg, I thought that was a one. It's not. It's a seven. But plus four, which is an 11. Oy-yi-yi."

Brennan: "And what skill are you rolling for that?"

Siobhan: "Investigation."

Brennan: "Cool."

Murph: "You do have a bardic."

Ally: "The DC's five though, right? Didn't you totally pass 'cause you picked it for your first one?"

Brennan: "Yes, you did. So this-"

Siobhan: "I did, but I still, I need to get to 'well off' to not roll with disadvantage for my Academics. And 'well off' is a 25."

Lou: "What did you get?"

Siobhan: "11."

Murph: "Oh, okay. Yeah."

Siobhan: "I mean, I basically can only get a 25 if I crit because all of these skills, I don't have anything good in."

Brennan: "But you do have Bardic and if you want to re-roll." *tempts stress token and rattles the box* 😭✋

Emily: "Well, what about Divination rolls? I would think, especially with investigation."

Siobhan: "Well I- I rolled my Divination rolls."

Emily: "Oh, Okay."

Siobhan: "I used one. And the other one is also not very good."

Emily: "Okay."

Siobhan: "So, um..."

Ally: "Are you gonna re-roll or are you gonna add Bardic to that?"

Siobhan: "I mean, maybe I will use my Divination roll. So that brings me up to a 15. And then, I'll-"

Emily: "Can I also give you Bardic? So that your-"

Brennan: "I think we're gonna only allow one Bardic per."

Siobhan: "I'll use my Fabian bardic to see if I can-"

Lou: "It's a d8 now."

Siobhan: "Ooh!"

Siobhan: "Let's see if I can get it up to 20 at least."

Brennan: "Cool."

Siobhan: *rolls* "Nah."

Adaine to Fabian: "But thank you anyway. I appreciate your friendship."

Fabian: "Hey, you can always come by an get an espresso."

Adaine: "Thank you."

Ally: "You made a dollar."

Brennan: "Adaine, go ahead and roll two d10 and you get that many silver pieces."

Siobhan: "Okay."

Brennan: "As you do so, let me ask you. There are a couple different job opportunities. Part-time counseling at the student center. There's some other part-time work around. But you do see there's a job listing for a server at Basrar's."

Siobhan: "I mean, I'll do that. If I work at Basrar's can I get advantage on Popularity?"

Ally: "Ooooohhh."

Brennan: "We're actually gonna cut over and see this little scene. So, it's the first week of school. Like, I guess you head out. Basrar's is not too far from Mordred Manor. How do you like- what's going through Adaine's mind as you walk off to apply for a job at Basrar's?"

Siobhan: "I mean, I feel pretty good about it because me and Bastard already have a great relationship. I also have that thing of like, I really enjoy going to Basrar's. And so I'm like, 'So working there will also be great.'"

Brennan: "Yeah."

Siobhan: "So I think I'm going in very optimistic."

Brennan: "Basrar looks at you and says,"

Basrar: "Adaine, the Elven Oracle."

Adaine: "Hi!"

Basrar: "It is wonderful to see you."

Adaine: "Oh yeah, you don't have to- you can just call me Adaine. Actually I was wondering, I saw you had a part-time job available and I would really love to..."

Siobhan: "I just hand over my résumé, which is 'Elven Oracle' and then 'one week of working at Oodles of Strudel.'"

Basrar: "And do you have any references from Oodles of Strudel?"

Adaine: "Unfortunately, the entire mall was destroyed in a cosmic incident."

Basrar: "No email address or?"

Ally & Lou laughing 😂😂🤣🤣💀💀

Adaine: "No, unfortunately. No, and I actually- I was gonna say I could give you a reference for the Elven Oracle, but I actually don't know. I guess my sister. Yeah, I could- yeah, she's an elf."

Basrar: "Great. I'll give her a call right now." *waiting to hear the number*

Adaine: "Yeah. Great."

Basrar: "I don't have her phone number."

Adaine: "Oh. Yeah." *gives the number to Basrar*

Brennan: "He punches it in. You see him over in the corner."

Basrar: "Mmhmm. This is Basrar of Basrar's Soda Fountain calling for an application for a job for one Adaine Abernant. Just wanted to hear any reviews as her work of the Elven Oracle. Mmhmm." *continuous nodding*

Siobhan: "I start texting Aelwyn."

Adaine's text to Aelwyn: "What the **** are you talking about? What are you doing? Don't ruin this for me. I'm so broke."

Brennan: "You hit Send. A winky face comes back and he goes,"

Basrar: "Ha ha, a bit. Yes, very funny. Good. Yes, yes, yes."

Brennan: "You see he hangs up and says,"

Basrar: "Great, you can start working right away."

Adaine: "Oh, amazing. Thank you. Amazing."

Brennan: "All he has to do is summon ice cream. So it's an easy gig for him. It's just you carry it. He's like,"

Basrar: "Some of the ice creams have gotten very complicated and are hard to carry."

Brennan: "And there's like huge tureens and sundaes and boats of stuff."

Siobhan: "I'm so good at carrying things because I have a Mage Hand. So I'm doing a regular carry, but then my Mage Hand is also carrying three ice creams also."

Brennan: "Hell yeah."

[savethevamps]

Reasons We Love Top Tanin

Earlier today I posted a breakdown of the scenes in which Top was SA, now I wanna give him some love because Top Tanin is a sweetheart damnit!

Also, what I said in my other post applies here too, we can discuss Top as a character, but blatant and random hate is unnecessary.

With that being said, here’s a list of Top’s best qualities:

1. His confidence! The first thing I loved about Top was how confident he was, you can tell just by the way he walks that he knows he’s the hottest guy in the room. Not to mention how sure he was in his pursuit of Mew, he never let himself get discouraged and always had an air of easy confidence no matter what.

2. How slow to anger he is, without being a pushover. We’ve seen Top get berated on more than one occasion, and he’s never been shown as angry in most of these confrontations. Besides looking slightly annoyed, he’s usually seen as being calm and sometimes even amused.

3. His quick remarks and comebacks. As I said, Top is no pushover! He’ll let people go on about whatever they feel, but not for too long, and he especially won’t ever let them think they have the upper hand. I love how he gets when people try and behave as though they’re above him, he always knocks them down a few pegs (as he should).

4. The pride he takes in looking his best. Top is well dressed, well groomed, and he just seems to take the best care of himself. He has a routine that he seems to do religiously, and he always dresses his best which adds to that air of confidence he carries around. Like I said before, he knows he’s the hottest in the room, and that comes from his own knowledge that he takes good care of himself. (I need a Top focused episode so I can watch his everyday routines in detail)

5. His general idgaf-ness. Top is not the type to get involved in drama, or care about what other people are doing. He’s not a gossip, and he stays in his own business until someone drags him into their own. We don’t see him pay attention to rumors spread by others, most likely because he knows how untrue they can be, but also because he doesn’t care enough to pay attention to it.

6. His willingness to grow and be better. Top is not resistant to change, he can evaluate his life, see what’s not working, and actually do something about it. If he’s wrong, he says he’s wrong without any excuses and holds himself accountable. When his boyfriend explained why he wasn’t comfortable with him doing drugs, he listened and decided to stop asap. He never went back on that, even if maybe he’s been tempted. That just shows that he’s always willing to hear genuine criticism and use it as a way to grow. Anyway I can talk for days about this so let’s move on!

7. How artistic he is! Top is a very creative guy it’s amazing, he’s constantly shown to be a talented artist. Every time we saw Top with Mew, he was drawing and being the artist boyfriend everyone begs for. I also love the fact that we were able to see him in his element at the hostel, the scenes were brief but they definitely showed how serious Top takes his artistry as far as his career is concerned.

8. How he cares for his significant other. We all know Top is #1 in the boyfriend department, and I don’t think that’s something that’s new! I’m pretty sure that although his past relationship(s) have been brief, he has taken care of them and met whatever needs they have. A good example of this is the fact he learned about how Mew gets his experiences from books and decided to take him on all these new, and creative adventures/dates to help him have real life experiences. He definitely will adjust to his partners needs in other to make sure they’re always fulfilled and happy.

9. How gentle he is. Top Tanin is a gentle guy okay? He’s definitely someone who would rather use soft touches than rough ones. He rarely raises his voice, he speaks softly but with enough assertiveness to make you listen, and he talks to his boyfriend so sweetly.

10. Him being a blatant sweetheart! I started this post just to talk about this, Top Tanin is the world’s sweetheart. He’s kind to people he doesn’t know without expecting anything in return. The way he would constantly reassure Mew? Sometimes he’d do it subtlety, other times it was obvious. When he gave Nick that advice about staying away from Boston, look he definitely had no reason for doing that, other than him just being a sweetheart. His active listening, he always gives his full attention even when he may not like what’s being said.

So what did we learn? Top Tanin is a Sweetheart, with some pretty likeable (cough loveable cough) qualities! These qualities should be appreciated more in my opinion! More people should see how good this guy is! I’m screaming this from the rooftops constantly, let’s all scream it together until Top hears us.

[quantomeno]

My ranking of the 'And that person is you!' scenes from Professor Layton

Ah, the iconic 'finger point' scene. They are Layton's trademark and it's so much fun when you know it's about to happen. You can feel the tension build.

But these moments are not all equal. Which scene will reign supreme?

Because these scenes involve big revelations and plot twists, this list will be rife with spoilers for both trilogies and the movie.

7. Azran Legacy

Firstly, the audience already knows who it is and no one else in the room could be it even if we didn't know. The other issue is that it's just got no build-up: Layton gives his spiel and then does the point. The room is cramped and there's not much drama or flair. By far the greatest problem though is that this felt like a side story. Bloom himself felt like wasted potential in some respects, but this whole mystery didn't seem all that important in the grand scheme of things. I honestly don't remember it that well and I am pretty sure he only stole a few artefacts that weren't plot relevant. It feels like they just wanted a pointing scene and this was the only logical place to put it.

6. Lost Future/Unwound Future

It is far too short, but the reveal has much more heft than Azran Legacy's. It is somewhat obvious that it's Future Luke once you realise what's happening, because only Don Paulo could be the other option, but the Clive revelation is still a massive twist. I give this scene bonus points because I like Clive's reaction to the accusation too.

5. Eternal Diva

I like this one, but it also feels a bit tacked on. The 'who has the key?' thing feels like it doesn't need deduction because they could just check everyone's pockets (and she's literally just holding it), but what saves it is that it ties into the bigger mystery and the revelation of Janice/Melina's identity. It feels impactful by the end, even if the initial tension feels overblown.

4. Miracle Mask

This one feels a fraction lacking in drama, but it makes up for it with its position/significance in the story. The wind blowing at the pivotal moment adds some nice flair. I would say it's also quite a shocking twist. It is what I would consider the baseline 'finger point' scene because it contains all the key features that make a good one, but I just don't think it has the same sensation of suspense that it needs to rank higher. Its execution is not as great as some.

3. Curious Village

This one lacks the trademark phrase, and it is also obvious who's the 'criminal element', but it makes up for it with the atmosphere of the room: it gives a classic murder mystery vibe, where all the key players have been gathered to learn the truth. It is scenes like this that makes me wish CV was a more traditional murder mystery because it has all the hallmarks of it. I am tempted to put this one below MM, but I feel this one is a touch more elegant and I value that.

2. Spectre's Call/Last Specter

This is one of the few times the game manages to surprise you with the revelation and has actively worked to make it seem like it was someone else. The foreshadowing of Doland, out of focus, standing behind Clarke, and Luke staring at his father, fully believing his own dad has been terrorising the town... and then how the camera pans from Clarke to Doland. It is a cleverly laid out scene and it has a great feeling of drama.

Pandora's Box/Diabolical Box

I could watch this scene on repeat forever. It is gorgeous. It also gives classic murder mystery vibes which I love. The suave coolness of Layton stirring his tea and calmly telling Chelmey he's go thee wrong man: perfect. Everyone's shocked reactions are fun and add to the tension. The pause after Layton's reasoning, and the shots of those involved leaves us with a delectable moment of suspense. Every shot is framed perfectly. And the revelation: it is not really surprising given we see Flora get kidnapped and she just made the comment that gave Layton the proof he needed, but it is still such an outrageous idea that Flora killed Dr Schrader and stole the box. The shots of everyone during the aforementioned pause at least try to create the illusion that it could be someone else. It also resolves one of the earliest mysteries of the game. The cherry on the cake is Luke's reaction (I love him so much). It is moments like this that make me want to put PB as my favourite game, but alas... I love LF too much.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello.

How to describe a place without sounding weird and repetitive?

Sorry, English is not my first language.

Describing Places without Repetition

Your English is great! Every time someone apologizes for their English, it's the first moment I realize English isn't their first language. Otherwise I would never have known. ♥

Okay, here we go!

1 - Create Your "Establishing Shot" Characteristics - You know in TV shows when they show that shot of the outside of the house/cafe/office building? That's called an "establishing shot" and it's used to establish where the next scene will take place. In fiction, when you have settings that are used repeatedly, you can do something similar to an establishing shot by focusing on different characteristics that will tell the reader which setting it is. For example, if one of your frequent settings is a high school, it could be things like: opening a locker, putting things into or taking things out of the locker, closing the locker, students filling the halls, noticing a particular student in the crowd, class warning bells ringing, walking to class, walking into a classroom, etc. By choosing different characteristics each time you establish the setting, you can avoid repetition.

2 - Introduce, but No Need to Repeat - When you introduce a setting (like the high school) or a sub-setting (like a classroom) for the first time, you can choose a few prominent details to help the reader imagine what the place looks like, but you don't need to rehash those details every time the setting is returned to. You don't even need to describe new details unless they're somehow relevant to the story. Instead, use those "establishing shot" characteristics when you go back to those places. That's all the reader needs.

3 - Don't Bother with Over Describing - We want our reader to see exactly what we're seeing inside our own heads, so it can be tempting to describe every last element of a setting in exhaustive detail, but the reality is your reader isn't going to see what you're imagining anyway because every detail you describe means something different to them. Too many details also overwhelms the reader and they won't remember it all anyway. So, this is why it's important to just choose a few prominent details to describe what a setting looks like, then let those establishing characteristics flesh things out, and add other details only when needed.

You can find more in my Description master list of posts.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

Learn more about WQA

Visit my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey Is: Chapter Three: Feel Bad For Him

Chapter One: Never Stayed Dead

Previous Chapter: But You Owe Me

~

‘Sulky’ was the only way that could describe Benrey’s attitude. Short noncommittal answers were his only replies when Gordon asked him about this or that clothing item. And he didn’t say anything unprompted as he followed. He was utterly unhelpful in every way but he wasn’t being an active nuisance or wondering off again so it was preferable.

Gordon put up with it for as long as he could bear before giving up and just picking stuff out for Benrey without even bothering to ask. Probably because he was used to see Benrey in blue, he ended up picking out mostly blue and other cool coloured clothing. It would make the inhuman yellow he’d chosen for to put in his eyes pop but most people would likely assume he was wearing contacts. Anyone wearing such contacts would want them to stand out, thus making them less suspicious.

Blessedly after paying for everything, they were allowed into the changing rooms so they could spend the rest of their shopping trip in real clothing. Immediately Gordon felt better; he was clean, safe, and wearing proper clothing again at long last. And their group no longer stood out even a little, making the fear of anyone noticing them and asking too many questions much less potent.

As they set to grocery shopping, Benrey continued to sulk as he followed along at the back of the group. Apparently he was really upset about no one being willing to buy him a new PS3. As long as he was expressing that in sullenness and not trying to kill them though, Gordon didn’t care. Let the bastard be unhappy for once, he deserved it after all the misery he’d put Gordon through.

Without easy access to a fridge and the only means to cook anything being the microwave in the hotel’s cafeteria area, the kinds of food they could get were limited. But anything was better than living off of vending machine snacks and dead pigeon that was always undercooked in some places and burnt in others. Somehow though despite how much soda they’d drank during that same trip through hell, Gordon just barely managed to convince to not add it to the list here. They could spend their money how they wanted of course but packs of soda were always bulky and they had enough to carry already.

Luckily the walk back to the hotel wasn’t long even if it was uncomfortable carrying so many bags at the height of the day’s heat. Not so luckily though, upon inquiring at the front desk, there were no new rooms available. Gordon had to continue sharing with Benrey. Tempting as it was to complain to the receptionist or the rest of the Science Team again, he didn’t bother.

As soon as they were back in their room, Benrey dropped the bags Gordon had given him to carry and wondered over to flop face first down onto the bed. Ignoring him being the easiest thing to do, Gordon set to putting stuff away. Including Benrey’s clothing, not a job he should have to do but he wasn’t in the mood to start something. Their share of the groceries, he put some in the night stand, the rest he left put in a box next to it.

Once everything was put away, he sat in the chair and pulled the phone out of its cradle, resting it on his lap while he dialed. By some miracle he remembered his supervisor’s phone number after only a little bit of thought. As usual, because the asshole never picked up his phone, it inevitably went voice mail.

“Hey, if you’re not dead,” though there was a good chance he was, “it’s Gordon Freeman. As you probably know, stuff kinda exploded and went to hell during my last shift. So I’m calling because I don’t know if I technically still have a job at Black Mesa or not. So I’d like news on that as well as compensation since it was a workplace accident and all that. Also uh… I got a thing that I need help handling. I can’t talk about it over the phone because it’s sensitive company stuff,” and because Benrey, the exact thing he was talking about, was right there, “but it’s important. So get in touch soon.” He gave the hotel name and his room number before hanging up with a sigh.

Probably the guy was dead so he’d have to go further up the chain of command if he wanted any hope of getting confirmation on his job status, compensation for his suffering while on the job, and/or answers on what he was supposed to do with Benrey. Perhaps all the way up to Administrator Breen,himself. Normally he would’ve balked at such a thought but after everything he’d been through he’d run out of fucks to give.

Though the situation with the US military did make it a bit more complicated. They could threaten to turn him in if he tried to demand anything from the company. But then he could in turn threaten to spill the news of the incident to the public if they tried. Or heck, he’d taken part in plenty of top secret experiments even before this latest fiasco that he could threaten to reveal too. He didn’t currently have any proof of any of it – it had all been in his office or living space at the Black Mesa facility – but he could bluff and say he did. Perhaps he could even head down there to get that proof.

The thought of returning so soon sent a chill down his spine. But… it might be a smart idea. Everything should’ve calmed down by now both in terms of the aliens as well as the military. They could check to see if any of the possessions were salvageable and well, there might be survivors they could help. And if Gordon really did have to black mail the company to get them to compensate him and the rest of the team, having the means to actually do so before he even needed to threaten it would be helpful.

If they were going to go down there, the sooner, the better. … He didn’t want to though, not today. It was too soon, he needed some some time. Tomorrow would be better. If they heard nothing from Black Mesa by then, he’d talk to the others about renting a car and heading down there to see if there was anything to see. For now, he was done thinking about it.

Instead, he looked over at Benrey, still lying face down on the bed. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable but he didn’t seem inclined to move any time soon. “How long you planning to sulk for?” Talking to him might be a bad idea but the silence was too heavy.

Benrey’s response was so muffled by the pillow his face was pressed into, it was indecipherable. Gordon could just get up and leave him there, would be justified in doing so too, and go talk to the others instead. But Tommy had made a good point about all their fun stuff being gone or at least currently inaccessible. Fun stuff wasn’t necessary for survival but it was necessary for thriving and after everything they’d been through, fun distraction would not only be really damn nice but also much deserved.

Since starting college, Gordon hadn’t had as much time to play video games as he’d have liked. Getting hired at Black Mesa had given him a little more time since he lived and worked in the facility but he’d mostly been focused on work. They’d been working on some pretty cool projects after all… though they seemed less cool now. Getting lost in video games was more appealing of an concept than ever. And there were by far worse coping mechanisms he could be tempted to turn to if he resisted this one. Benrey being a gamer too meant he could kill two birds with one stone; fun distraction for himself and something to keep Benrey occupied and hopefully content enough to not cause more problems.

With a sigh, Gordon stood back up and put his shoes back on. “I’m about to head to the used game store, you wanna come with?”

For a moment it seemed Benrey hadn’t heard or wasn’t going to respond but after several seconds he twisted his neck to look up at Gordon. Far enough that it looked painful but he wasn’t human so he was probably fine. He opened his mouth but Gordon quickly cut him off before he could say something stupid.

“We’re getting an old, used, cheap console with old, used, cheap games, nothing new or expensive. I only got so much in savings. But I am willing to buy a couple games solely for you if it’ll keep you from being a nuisance and if you promise to behave. Understood?”

Benrey pushed himself up and was back to his feet in seconds. “Yeah, yeah, understood.”

“You promise to behave?”

“I promise to behave. Let’s go.” It was quick and Benrey was already starting for the door so it would have to be good enough for now.

~

Despite having made it clear that he was a Sony fanboy, Benrey was the one who suggested they get the Game Cube instead of the original Play Station because, “There’s more good games for it.” Which was true, the store’s selection of Game Cube games was almost twice as big as it’s Play Station section.

He was also the one to suggest they get multiplayer games. Gordon didn’t like the idea of playing games with him but after some thought he agreed that it was a good idea. Since they had to share the console, they were bound to end up fighting over it, having some games they could play together should mitigate that to some extent. Besides he did like the idea of occasionally playing with Tommy, Bubby, and Dr. Coomer if they desired to as well.

In all, the shopping trip was quick, easy, and Benrey was relatively well behaved the whole time. They walked away with a Game Cube, four controllers, two memory cards, a decent handful of games and three Beyblades from the toy box next to the cashier for less than a brand new PS3 would’ve cost. Gordon had checked to see if he could get Dr. Coomer a SNES and Super Punch Out but the latter wasn’t in stock so he put the idea on the shelf for later.

For now instead, during the walk back to the hotel he stopped by the 7/11 to get everyone their own two litter bottle of soda – all on brand, unlike the cheap stuff available at Black Mesa’s vending machines – and at Benrey’s suggestion a box of on brand candy too. It wasn’t much but he owed the Science Team his life so he wanted to do something at least kind of nice for them. Benrey got included solely because he was physically with Gordon at the time and well, he was feeling generous so why not?

“They got pizza too,” Benrey said as he bumped his shoulder into Gordon’s as he made his third and final trip to the counter – having only one real hand meant he couldn’t carry it all at once until it was bagged and Benrey’s arms were full with their game purchases, meaning he couldn’t help.

“Yeah, and?”

“Could get some… maybe?”

“What? No. Have you ever had 7/11 pizza?”

“Nope. This is my first time inside a real 7/11.”

Damn, another reminder that Benrey probably spent his whole life locked up inside Black Mesa. Gordon still refused to feel bad for him though. The world had been better and safer with Benrey contained. Now apparently it was Gordon’s job to prevent him from running amuck and causing untold chaos until he could get him to someone who could contain him again.

What were the pay rates for babysitting whatever the fuck Benrey was? Had to be pretty high, right? Between that and the compensation he was owed, he should be set for life. Maybe he really could retire and spend the rest of his life goofing off and playing video games online.

For now though, he finished putting the last of his purchase on the counter and said to Benrey, “Well, trust me, unless you’re high enough that you’re happy to eat literally anything, convenience store pizza is garbage. Like, it’s worse than frozen pizza.”

“Oh, no thanks then, frozen pizza’s pretty bad. It’s too cold and the plastic wrapping gets stuck your teeth, real uh… real awful. The cardboard ain’t bad but can’t save it.”

The cashier ringing everything up chuckled, clearly believing it to be a joke. Gordon wasn’t so sure. It was tempting to ask but he didn’t need to know and just laughed along instead because Benrey eating a frozen pizza straight out of the freezer, packaging and all, was a pretty funny mental image.

~

Upon returning to the hotel the first thing Gordon did was unload all the sodas and candy, much to the delight of the Science Team. Especially Tommy once the Beyblades were brought out for him too. Sunkist had apparently caught up and seemed excited too. Gordon would have to get her a bone or toy of some sort eventually. Which he would have to talk to Tommy about to ensure he got here something that wouldn’t be dangerous to her health if she had an allergy or whatever. That was for later though, for now he just wanted to go back to his own room and relax for a bit.

Even before Gordon was quite finished closing the door behind them, Benrey was off and starting to plug the Game Cube into the TV. Being an older console and an older TV, they were perfectly suited to each other. “Wanna play Melee?” Benrey asked as he turned towards Gordon, holding up the appropriate game box.

“Sure. Go easy on me though, I’m, uh, down a hand.” Later he was going to have to do some research on how difficult it would be to get or make a controller meant for use with a single hand.

“Of course, of course. Gotta go easy on the noobs otherwise they ain’t gonna wanna play anymore and then that’s no fun.”

Gordon could perhaps find reason to be annoyed with being called a noob but it had been a long time since he’d played the original Smash Bros back on the N64. Back when the Game Cube was new, he’d considered himself too cool for Nintendo. So this was his first time owning one and thus, he was a noob. Nothing wrong with that though.

***

Even when going as easy on Gordon as he could while still actively playing the game, beating him was almost trivial. Benrey had never even played Melee against real people before but Gordon took only slightly more effort to beat than the easy bots.

Normally Benrey would’ve teased him to hell and back for being so bad but he knew why Gordon was playing so poorly. Game Cube controllers were designed to be used with two hands. Gordon straddled his on his gun hand while awkwardly splaying his left hand over it. Technically he could press the buttons and move the analog stick at the same time but not with any degree of finesse.

If Benrey had known leading Gordon to the soldiers would result in him permanently losing a part of his body, he wouldn’t have done it. There was being bad because he’d been wronged – and so Gordon would pay more emotion-filled attention to him – and then there was his actions resulting in Gordon having only one functioning hand for the rest of his life.

“If humans don’t grow back cut off bits does that mean they also don’t, uh… come back when you kill them?” He eventually had to ask once he’d knocked Gordon down to his final stock for the third time.

“Nope. As a popular meme says, ‘people die when they are killed’. It’s permanent unless it’s the kind of thing a doctor can resuscitate someone from. That’s pretty rare though.”

“What about Bubby? He comes back when he dies and he’s human.” Or at least Benrey was pretty sure he counted as such.

“He does?”

“Bro, you saw him die at least like… twice, I think. He comes back.”

“Well… Bubby’s special. He was made in the lab so even if he is human, he’s got stuff going on that the rest of us don’t. Normal humans stay dead when they die and don’t grow back lost body parts. Heck, you injure us bad enough and we’ll be permanently fucked up because of it.”

“Damn. Your species don’t got much going on, huh?” And their little fight took on a whole new meaning. Benrey had thought they’d been mostly still chill even if they’d been actively trying to kill each other. But if death was permanent for humans that meant the nothingness between it and reformation would be permanent as well, right? Making trying to kill someone a much bigger deal than Benrey had thought.

“Hey, we got plenty going on, we’re just not immortal or whatever like… whatever the fuck you are. What even are you?”

Before answering, Benrey won the round. It was so easy it wasn’t as fun as it could’ve been. While the announcer claimed him the winner, he looked over at Gordon sitting on the chair next to him. “I’m not human.”

“Yes, we’ve established that but what are you?”

Benrey hadn’t considered that question in a long time and it had been even longer since he’d cared. “I don’t know.”

“What? How do you not know what you are?”

“Just don’t.” He was Benrey and he wasn’t human, what more mattered?

“They made you in the lab too, didn’t they?”

“Um… maybe. I’m not really sure. All I remember is the lab though so probably, I guess.”

Gordon was silent for a few seconds, his face full of thought before it scrunched up in sudden anger. “God fucking damn it!”

“Whoa bro, why you so angry?” Benrey wasn’t always great at telling what kinds of things would make people mad at him but he was pretty sure that that shouldn’t have. What did he know though? Sometimes people just got mad at him even when he didn’t intend for them to.

“I’m not… or I guess I am angry. But not at you and it doesn’t matter right now. Let’s just shut up and keep playing.” He turned his attention back onto the TV, pressing start to get them back to the character select screen.

After switching characters to Link – he had a sword so he was cool – Benrey rested his controller on his knee and bent his right arm around behind himself. Playing one handed was only fair, right?

Somehow Gordon didn’t seem to notice until he won the round and turned to look at Benrey again. Whatever he’d been going to say died on his lips and his eyes widened a bit surprise. “Oh, I guess that explains why you were playing so much worse suddenly. You don’t uh… don’t gotta do that for me.”

“Nah, beating you’s too easy, gotta even the playing field a bit to make it more fun.” And it had been more fun, certainly it meant he could put real effort in without it being a steamroll. He’d even lost that round, pretty handily too because Gordon had more one-handed practice at this than him, but it was only a matter of time before he got his mojo back. And then when he started winning again, he could tease Gordon for being bad.

“Oh, um… okay then, I ain’t gonna complain about that, thanks.” Gordon turned his attention back on the game and started the next round.

***

Gordon had been planning on not tolerating sharing the bed with Benrey again. He’d been intending to insist Benrey sleep on the floor or in one of the chairs. But then Benrey had inadvertently made Gordon feel bad for him. No wonder he was so fucked up and weird, he’d spent his entire life in the lab and didn’t even know if he was made in it or they’d just found him super young and kept him around to experiment on. Idiot didn’t even seem to understand how fucked up that was which just made it worse.

Bubby had a similar life story – though he at least seemed to understand that it was horrible to some degree – which largely had to do with why Gordon had forgiven him for his part in the betrayal. Just like he’d forgiven Dr. Coomer for the whole clones trying to kill him thing. Being part of or the product of an unethical science experiment was bound to result in acting out a little, being a little strange, and maybe not fully grasping the ethics and impact of one’s actions. And so Gordon should forgive Benrey too, shouldn’t he? He didn’t want to though.

And so after wrestling with the thought on and off for hours, reaching no conclusions, it was finally time to go to bed. He’d planned what he was going to say earlier at Target; ‘You’re sleeping on the floor tonight.’ A statement, not a request, brooking no room for argument. ‘You’re not human so you don’t need to sleep in a bed. Beds are for humans,’ if Benrey tried to argue. But even if he didn’t forgive and thus very much wanted to not share the bed with Benrey again, he did still feel bad. Bad enough that making Benrey sleep on the floor seemed too harsh and with no other options available, that meant sharing the bed again.

It was big enough for two people though, no cuddling or touching necessary if they stayed close enough to separate sides. Which would leave them close to the edges, perhaps more than Gordon preferred but not so close they’d for sure roll off. They were both full grown adults, they could handle sharing a bed without making it weird. But wait, Benrey wasn’t human so…

“You’re an adult, right?” Gordon asked as stepped out of the bathroom, wearing the pajamas he’d bought from himself earlier.

Benrey looked up from where he sat on the chair by the window. “Uh… why you asking?”

“Just you know, you’re not human so I figured maybe you’re in like a larval stage or something and you’re gonna one day make yourself a cocoon and transform into something more monstrous. Like how caterpillars turn into butterflies or whatever.” Or like he had in Xen but more permanent.

“Nah… I don’t think I can cocoon myself. Though I guess I’ve never thought about it before. I could try it.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t. I mostly just want to know if you’re a child or adolescent version of whatever you are. I’ve been assuming you’re an adult this whole time but like, I don’t even know what you are and neither do you apparently so I could be wrong.”

“I’m full-grown. Or uh… full-grown in that sense. I can physically grow bigger, just don’t want to.” Great so he had no excuse for acting like an immature little brat at times. Except he still did because he’d been raised in a lab as a science experiment. Probably no one had ever bothered to try to teach him how to behave and thus even now as an adult he had no idea how to properly interact with others. That didn’t mean Gordon had to like him or forgive him but it was another good reason be the bigger man and not let Benrey get under his skin anymore. And so…

“Good, great. That means we can both be mature adults about his sharing a bed situation. There doesn’t have to be anything weird or uncomfortable about it. We were too tired to discuss or even think about it last night so let’s do this now. You sleep on one side of the bed and I sleep on the other and we don’t touch, got it? I request the side closest to the door.” That way if anything tried to attack through the window, he could make a run for the exit. Though, probably an attack was more likely from the door so maybe window side was better. It’d be easier to get cornered there though so actually…

“Oh, I thought you liked touching.”

Gordon flinched out of his thoughts as he looked over at Benrey again. “What made you think that?”

“You slept in the middle last night.” He stood to walk over and point to said middle. “Made it hard to join you without touching so I thought you did it on purpose ‘cause you wanted to touch.”

“No, I just wasn’t thinking.” That at least explained why they’d woken up so close. “Sorry, I guess. But we’re on the same page now though, right? No touching.”

“Lame bro, that sucks. But fine, whatever, no touching.” He genuinely sounded disappointed.

“Why is that lame?” And should Gordon really ask? It was too late now though, his bad tendency to speak before thinking coming back to bite him again.

“You’re warm. It feels nice.”

Oh, that wasn’t so bad. A bit weird but not anything super creepy like Gordon had feared. “All right, uh… good night then.” He turned off the lights and got into bed, staying just far enough way from the edge for there to be only little danger of rolling off in the middle of the night.

Chapter Four:

[docholligay]

Foreign Films to Expand Into

I saw a post regarding the writer’s strike that suggested Americans maybe make the effort of watching a foreign film, and while I agree, I didn’t think its tone was super helpful. Don’t get me wrong, I’m the queen of “Pull yourself out of a rut!!” but I don’t think “Americans are so fucking stupid they don’t realize other countries make movies” is actually trying to help anyone, so much as add to the idea that I guess the rest of the world is being forced to watch Captain America at gunpoint. 

But I DO want Americans to watch foreign films, in the same way that I want them to watch indie films, and I want people of all nations and stripes to expand their understanding of what they’re used to, to push themselves into something else they might like. I think my family would say that it’s fair to call me a person who is open to experience. I love to try things! That’s why I have the book draw, that’s why I go see movies I’m not sure about, that’s why I actively seek out foods I’ve never tried. You deserve to make your life interesting, to be challenged, to provide enrichment in your enclosure. You are worth the effort of a richly textured life! And movies are often a pretty cheap way to go about stepping outside of your comfort zone. I can’t wait to hear what you thought of any of these! 

Obviously, if you are not American, one  of these may not be foreign to you. Yes, I know that. 

I don’t hold out that all of these are hidden gems--some of them are, or were, extremely popular movies. Many of them won awards. But I do hold out that these are some of my favorites, and I would love to share them with you. I did, however, try to avoid anything that I thought already got a lot of play on tumblr: I don’t need to tell anyone here to watch Parasite, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, or any given Ghibili movie (Though you should watch Grave of the Fireflies--it’s my favorite). 

Pan’s Labyrinth (Mexico and Spain): This is my favorite foreign film of all time and I am breaking my, “I’m not putting any movie on here I don’t need to tell you to watch” rule right away because it is in fact one of my favorite movies of all time, American or foreign. It is a lush story about fantasy, facism, courage, and the horror of childhood. Warning: This movie is very very intense. Do not be fooled by the fact that Del Toro also does like fucking…Hellboy. He also can make very serious, very good movies, and he does not shy away from the brutality of the Spanish Civil War. If you liked Labyrinth but you’re fully grown now and I want a story about fantasy bargains for the adult crowd, this is for you. 

The Orphanage (Spain): I love Spanish horror, and so it was really, really difficult to only pick one. But this has been one of my favorites for years, a classic Spanish slow burn that deals with the long shadow of childhood and the line between the supernatural and the natural. If you like pensive horror movies like The VVitch, I really think you should give this one a try. 

Hero (China): I know a lot of y’all are into wuxia now, but back when this came out it wasn’t a thing I had ever heard of*. Hero is, as the title might imply, a sweeping historical epic with fantastic fight scenes and gorgeous cinematography. If you enjoy stories told in multiple interpretations, high-flying wire work, and with some ideas about war, peace, and truth that tempt without asking too much of you, you’ll love this. 

Cold War (Poland): Listen, I love Cuarón, Mexican and Spanish movies absolutely dominate my list of foreign films I’ve watched, but I genuinely thought Cold War deserved the edge over Roma for the Oscar that year. It’s a fairly short movie for the times, coming in at less than 90 minutes, and it wastes not even one second of that film time. Cold War is a bittersweet love story not only with two people toward each other, but feels deeply critical of Poland while recognizing the impossibility of unbraiding yourself from it. If you love impossible, bittersweet, happily never after love stories with stark and striking cinematography, you’ll adore Cold War. 

Tigers Are Not Afraid (Mexico): I adore an unflinching take on childhood, and this movie is absolutely that. It essentially asks, “How do children survive in a world full of trauma?” and the answer is that sometimes, they don’t. This movie is a little frenetic, admittedly, but the ways fantasy and imagination is woven into a group of street children orphaned by the cartels is something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I first saw it, and I think the final shot is pitch perfect. If you liked Pan’s Labyrinth this is required viewing, as I think it shares a lot of themes. 

The African Doctor (France): “Holligay, if you put another fucking downer movie in this list I am going to BEAT YOUR ASS” Okay, okay, we’re going to ignore my general predilections and everything from here on down is fairly life-affirming or comedic or easy. This is about a little village in France in the 1970s that gets an African doctor. It’s sweet, and funny, and you come away from it feeling good. Also I still laugh every time Seyolo responds to the fact that most of the villagers had never seen a black person with: “So what? Now they will.” If you like sweet fish out of water stories with nice endings, this is for you. 

Om Shanti Om (India): I maintain that this is the best movie to watch if you’re brand new to Bollywood. It mostly avoid the worst of its excesses while delighting in all of its strengths. It is a genuinely fun film with fantastic songs, and a shockingly together storyline for a Bollywood movie (affectionate). I’ve actually done a full review of this one, but in the short version: If you loved Moulin Rouge and wanted more of that mix of tragedy and silliness on a operatic level, I think you’ll be in for a treat. 

The Warrior’s Way (South Korea and New Zealand): Okay, this movie is not good, and also it manages to be bad. But it’s in English, so if you’ve been sitting there like my dad going, ‘I am not gonna read a movie” well, here you go. If you’ve ever said to yourself, “I want to watch a Western, but I wish it were actually a HK style cheesy action movie” BOY HOWDY AM I HERE FOR YOU. I watched this one insanely drunk and still managed to be like, “wow! This is so bad! Maximum valid!” If you thought RRR** was good, but too deep, you will have the BEST time with The Warrior’s Way. 

Anyway, this is, of course, an incomplete list, and I’m sure I’ve forgotten something I love, since this was just made off the cuff. I would love to hear if you watch or like any of these, and also, if, looking at this list, you have a recommendation for me, let me know! There are so so many fucking movies out there, and so many fall through the cracks. 

I’m thinking about doing another one of these on “Indie movies you might have missed” and also “Movies that were made before you enfants were born” (30+ years) so let me know if anything like that is interesting! Or, if there’s a category you think I might know about you’re into, let me know also.

*I actually have a lot of emotional attachment to Hero, as I have a very distinct memory of standing in the Hastings, in front of the small foreign-film section, and it being the first foreign film I picked up. I was, I think, sixteen, and I had decided that I was going to be worldly, and interesting, and cultured, and so I took a deep dive into cooking from other cultures, and watching foreign films, and buying old art history textbooks, reading classics, and listening to opera, and formal manners. Basically becoming the person I wished I were, that poised Grace Kelly type, even if I was born to the drone of the grasshoppers on the wind. To quote Reba Macintire, “You know I mighta been born just plain white trash, but Fancy was my name” and all that. And this movie was a distinct part of that, in that it was the first, in a long line of me trying to be a more well-rounded and interesting person. 

**RRR (India): Actually on that note, watch RRR. It’s a fantastically fun Indian action film that I keep meaning to watch again because I got a little too drunk for drinking on an emopty stomach the first time I saw it, so it might actually also be good, but I do remember enjoying the shit out of it and there is a scene that has such Fareeha vibes to me.