#not that i need the info to be drilled into my brain

[soleuli]

The worst feeling ever is the feeling when you just want the week to finish but then your homeworks and projects are due next week so you don't want the week to finish yet, so you don't know what you want to happen more and you end up thinking about what's the better option. Of course, even if you got to pick which is the better option, you still wasted your own time by thinking about it instead of actually doing your work.

[daphwritesworld]

#11 k. mccabe— LUNCH.

content: pussy eating (both receiving), face humping (k receiving) lots of kissing and making out lol, fingering (r receiving), public/beach sex, groping, drinking wine, tattoos, grumpy morning! reader, top!Katie, bottom!reader

warnings: mentions of tattoos, tabloids posting personal info/photos, mentions of a dvd player bc I'm old and still use them

synopsis: A much needed rest day has finally come for you and your girlfriend. She's got everything planned out for you both, from a secret appointment, to a movie date, and finally treating you to a nice lunch on the beach.

requested: yes

word count: 5.6k

!! MINORS DNI!! 18+ CONTENT

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An arm sliding around your waist is what you notice first in your daze of slumber. Your mind still hasn’t caught up yet, too focused on how cozy the bed is. But suddenly you’re being pulled to the middle of the mattress, your back hitting a chest as you snuggle into the warmth. You swear you could pass back out even easier now, the new heat source making you even more comfortable. It had been a long night celebrating your anniversary, especially since you both had a game first. You’d won 4-1 Arsenal, so the girls gladly helped you party the night away…but today is about doing all the things you weren’t free to do alone yesterday. 

“Time to get up, my darling.” Katie’s voice is always so thick with her accent first thing in the morning. The raspiness always gets to you, and she knows it, too. She’s often taken full advantage of your weakness for her morning voice. She loves whispering the dirtiest of things into your ears at the crack of dawn and letting her hands roam across your body, teasing you until you’re begging for her touch. Then she’ll flip it on you, clicking her tongue as she scolds you for running you both late to practice. “What am I gonna do with you, pretty girl? Always making us late.”

You turn around in her hold, burying your face into her neck as she starts to rub your back. The early ambiance of the outside world slowly creeps inside, like the birds chirping and cars starting to fill up the streets. You can still smell the body wash she used last night on her skin, taking in a deep breath of it as you exhale in a sleepy sigh, “Five more minutes, please baby.”

“Okay, hun..but only five more. Then we gotta get ready for the day, alright?” She’s met with a small snore from between your lips. Already back to being dead to the world in her arms. Her chest shakes with a silent laugh at that, trying not to disturb you before your times up. Katie slowly pulls your head back, resting it on her pillow so she can examine your face. There have been many days where she’s watched you sleep. Not in a creepy way, but in an endearing way. She’d often wake up before you and just admire how beautiful you look while deep in slumber. You’re like a piece of art lying perfectly in motion, her personal Mona Lisa who stepped out of the painting. Gripping the canvas as you pulled your way to be in the world of the living and took refuge in her heart. You’ve burrowed your way into her soul, carved out a spot there, and made a permanent home…but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

She knew you’d be trouble for her the first day you attended practice after signing with Arsenal. Strolling right in with that perfect smile on your dumb gorgeous face, and effectively distracting her for all of warm-ups. She’d gone pretty hard on you that first day during drills, taking the frustrations of her attraction out on the pitch. And after all the teasing, slide tackles, and pushes she’d sent your way, that still didn’t stop you from coming over in the locker room and telling her she played well that day. A hand extended to shake hers and that stupid smile appeared back on your face, making her heart almost burst out of her chest (for about the tenth time that day). Katie swears to this day that her brain short-circuited at that moment. You were standing in front of her covered in grass and dirt stains, and she had been the cause of them….but you still looked like a goddess standing before her, reaching out an olive branch in the shape of your perfectly painted nails. 

For the first time in her life, Katie McCabe was rendered speechless. Blubbering her mouth silently like a fish out of water before jutting her hand out to take yours. As you shook hands all Katie could concentrate on was how soft your skin was, like an invitation to never let go. You giggled while watching her, “You’re cute.” 

As you slipped away from her, she stood frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights. You turned at the door before you left, shooting her that paralyzing smile one last time, “See you on the pitch, McCabe…and close your mouth. Wouldn’t want our star defender catching any flies now would we?” And just like that you were gone out of the room, leaving her to pick up the pieces of her frontal cortex shattered onto the floor below her. 

It’s hard to believe it’s been a little over five years since then, and only four months since the proposal. You’re both currently living in your little bubble of love. Deciding together to keep the engagement to yourselves for at least two more months. The secrecy of sharing such an exciting and intimate moment from everyone in your lives has been fueling A LOT of sex between the two of you. In the locker room showers, the club meeting room, and numerous bathrooms or broom closets of whatever establishments the two of you have occupied. 

Katie sighs looking back at the clock, she’s already let you sleep an extra 10 minutes now. She knows how you are though, especially first thing in the morning. You’re usually her walking sunshine, radiating light off you everywhere you go. But you’re always her frumpy grump in the morning (as she likes to call you.) A frown and a furrow between your brows settle into your features as your sleepy eyes try to shut at any given moment. You’ve run into many, many walls that way..so Katie came up with a solution a few years back when you started living together: carrying you around like a koala bear until you can walk and function on your own.

Her arms secure you in her grip, hoisting you up as you stay sound asleep in her hold. She starts walking to the bathroom, knowing when she sits you on the counter it’s gonna wake you up. She turns the hot water in the shower on first, letting it warm up as she gets you up enough to hop in with her. The cold marble lights goosebumps across your skin as you jolt alive wakeful, your eyes snapping open to the bright lights above you. Your hips go to lift your thighs off the freezing countertop, but Katie’s hands stop you, pushing you to sit back down. Her hands slip under your shirt as you shiver at the feeling of her ring sliding across your warm skin, leaving a tingly feeling behind in its wake. 

A kiss graces the pulse point on your neck, Katie’s lips lingering as you start leaning into her more. The soft sucks and nips from her teeth start warming you up slowly. Like a fire brewing in your belly the more she teases you. She leans back for a second to pull you into a searing kiss, her nails digging into the skin of your waist now. It’s the kind of kiss that takes your breath away, leaves your face red, and panting for some fresh air when you pull apart. Katie pulls back enough to speak against your lips, “Time to get up and shower, sleepyhead.” 

Your face drops back into those distinct telltale signs that you’re frustrated. That’s made even more apparent by the way you cross your arms over your chest and let a scoff out into her face. Katie just smiles at you, used to your stink of an attitude in the morning after so many years. Honestly, at this point, if you ever woke up this early with a smile on your face she’d be racing you to the ER for a full workup of your brain. “You did not kiss me like that JUST so I’d get in the shower,” you narrow your eyes at her as you say it. “Are you saying I stink, McBabe?” you push her shoulder lightly with a pout on your lips. 

“Only your tude, darling….but your hair is looking a little doolally,” she says with a grimace on her face. The little smirk at the corner of her mouth gives way to her joking nature underneath though. You open your mouth to say something else all prickly, but she cuts you off with her fingers wiggling across your middle. Then she starts attacking you in flurry of kisses, all over your face as you struggle to get away from her.

“K-Kate! Katie s-stop!” Your hands come up to push at her stomach and chest, loud laughs ripping from your mouth as she relentlessly tickles you on the counter. “Pl-Please baby! Ok-Okay! I’ll get in t-the shower!” 

She pulls back at that, her infectious grin mirroring your own as she starts taking your clothes off. Leaving little kisses on your body as she concludes stripping you. She reaches for her shorts, but you slap her hand away. “Let me, love. Only fair that I repay the favor.” 

Your lips slot onto hers as your hands slip down her toned abdomen and start pulling her sleep shorts down her legs. No time is wasted as you instantly reach back up and take the band of her underwear into your fingertips. You rub the material through your fingers for a second, admiring the softness before they follow the path of her bottoms around her ankles. 

Then you’re gasping into her mouth as she’s backing you up into the counter you’d just been plucked off of. The articles of clothing that had taken home around her feet now kicked to the side, ironically right in front of the laundry bin. Her grip on your now bare hips disappears as she pulls away from your makeout. Using her now free hands to pull her sports bra off and toss it somewhere to be picked up later from the floor. 

She picks you back up, letting you wrap your legs around her waist as she leads you both to the now steaming shower. “I’m making you drive if all the hot water’s gone.”

Katie lightly slaps your ass as a response. The warm water surrounds you as she closes the door behind you both. She lowers you to stand on your own, hugging your back to her front as you both submerge under the downpour of the showerhead. “I’m always gonna be the one driving anyways darling, we both know that.” 

“Oh yeah? Says who?” 

“Says you miss pro passenger princess! I can’t remember one time you’ve ever sat in the drivers seat while we’ve been together…unless we’re counting when you’re on my lap while you let me–” 

“Okay! I get it, I get it!” You turn around and place a hand over her mouth, laughing as you come to terms with your new title. Deciding to tease her back a bit for causing the blush dusting your cheeks, “Don’t have to do a play-by-play for me. I know you love those, but leave our sex life out of your pregame rituals- EW KATIE!” 

She’s the one laughing now, smirking as she flicks her tongue back out at you. “That’s so gross, babe! My poor hand with your morning breath germs all over it!”

“Oh shut up! Acting like that same tongue wasn’t shoved inside your cunt less than 12 hours ago and been in your mouth ever since your pretty little eyes peeled open.” 

Your mouth shuts closed at that, the red on your cheeks deepening as you hide your face with your hands. “Okay, I’m not gonna argue with you there,” you breathe out between your fingers. You’re met with a kiss to the forehead as Katie pulls your hands away, chuckling as you reveal a small frown to her. 

“Turn around you goober, I’ll wash your hair. We really can’t mess around now or we’re gonna be late for our appointment,” she says while reaching for your shampoo. 

It’s always so relaxing when she does your hair for you some days. You used to always laugh at first because it reminded you of Charles from Brooklyn99 so badly. She never understood when you’d just burst out giggling like a madman and when she’d ask you’d just reply, “The most intimate thing you can do for a lover is wash their hair!” 

When you finally got her to agree to watch the show about a year after the shower routine started, she almost choked on her popcorn when she heard him say it. Yeah, she definitely chased you around the house before tackling you to the couch and tickling you as a punishment for making fun of her popcorn hazard. She really does love to use it as her weapon of certain surrender…because after five seconds you’re begging for a truce. 

The hints of apple and honey fill your nostrils as Katie’s fingers massage the cream into your scalp, pulling soft relieved sighs from your lips. She can physically see your body relax into hers at the act. She’d never admit it to you, but this really is the most intimate act she’s ever done with a lover…and it’s reserved just for you– promised forever now. 

“All finished, booger!” 

You turn around as she starts loading up her loofa, taking it from her grasp as you start doing it for her. It starts out innocently– it really does, okay! But like most things with Katie, they don’t stay that way for long. You can’t help but fall to your knees as the loofa runs clean water down her body now, the last of the suds swirling down the drain. “What are you doing, doll? I told you we can’t waste any more time messing around,” her hand comes to rest on the top of your head.

“And I told you I’d repay the favor last night, and I think we’ve established I don’t like leaving empty promises, baby.” Your hands run up her legs, stopping to run your nails up her inner thighs. The hand on your head turns into fingers in your hair as she lets a growl out, pulling your head up. “Stick your tongue out, darling.” 

You do as she says, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. Her hand moves more towards the back of your head as she pushes your face into her cunt, her shoulders hitting the cold tiles as she guides your head. Her nipples get hard from the contact off the wall, a shiver running down her spine as you start sucking on her clit. Your hands go up to grab her hips, trying to ground yourself as you get lost in the taste of her. 

“Just like that, fuck babe.” She’s gritting her teeth now, planting her footing before grinding her pussy down onto your mouth. “Open your– fuck! Open your eyes for me, love.”

And Jesus fuck you had to fight the urge to let them roll into the back of your skull when you do. She’s staring down at you with those alluring eyes, her long wet hair thrown onto one shoulder, and her abs flexing as she grinds down onto your eager mouth. You moan just at the sight, flicking your tongue on her clit as you let one of your hands come down to replace it. Then you push your tongue inside of her, desperate for a true taste of what you know she has to offer. 

“Pussy drunk aren’t you, darling?” she laughs out, holding you completely still as she puts a little more pressure onto your face as she humps into your tongue harder. The water running down her perfectly sculpted body is reflecting off the light coming into the bathroom. A sign of the little time you two really have, the rest of the world carrying on as you’re frozen in the spot between her legs. Your knees are aching and your jaws getting sore, but that bleeds into the background noise as Katie lets out a knee-wobbling moan. 

Her eyes burn into yours as her legs start to shake around your head, and you start grinding your face back up into her as she comes down. The roll of her hips bumping her clit into your nose in the chaos, more sweet sounds tumbling from her lips. She cums with a groan of your name falling from her lips, the hand in your hair dragging you up her body.

You let your tongue trace its way up her body as she brings you up to meet each other’s lips in a messy kiss. Tasting herself all over your mouth as she walks back under the main stream of water, you squeal from the chill from the now heatless water. She quickly washes you both up before hurrying from the shower, a new skip in her step for the day. 

It only takes you both about 15 minutes to get ready, you in a nice flowy sundress that Katie had surprised you with last night in the early a.m. hum of London. You’d stumbled in all tipsy, horny, but determined to swap your gifts before bed, and by god, you got it done, too. Like did you look at them for 5 seconds and then instantly sit them on the coffee table and fuck for three hours straight around on different surfaces of the house?...The answer would be yes. BUT hey you got the prioritized goal done before going at it like animals and that’s all that matters in your book. 

Katie walks into the bathroom where you’re finishing up your makeup, and your eyes almost pop out of your head. She’s wearing an outfit that throws you headfirst into ovulation early. There she stood in her tight tan crop top and white flowy pants. The glasses you had gifted her two birthdays ago, a gold necklace with your initial hanging from it, and the gold watch you bought her for your first anniversary to match.

It all comes together to make a delicious sight for your viewing. She comes up behind you, arms bulging as she places her hands beside you on the same countertop you’d made out on earlier. “Stop ogling me, we’re gonna be late you perv!” 

You roll your eyes at her before finally zipping up your makeup bag. You put on some lipgloss before tucking it in your purse and moving to go put your shoes on. “Wear comfy ones, I’ve got a surprise for you at lunch!” she calls out across the room as she sees you approaching the shoe rack on your side of the closet. You give her a questioning look, wondering why you’d need comfy shoes for whatever restaurant she’s chosen…but nonetheless, you comply. Slipping on some sandals to match your dress, and to show off your matching nails of course (courtesy of being paid for by your girlfriend). 

You arrive at the tattoo parlour right on time, not a moment to spare. You hop out of the car and rush inside hand in hand with Katie. She leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head after she’s talked with the man at the front, “You’re so lucky we weren’t late or you’d be in big trouble, missy.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” you whisper back at her, “but we weren’t, so live a little, babe.” 

She just shakes her head at you, following behind the heavily inked man in front of you until he pulls the curtains back to an empty room. He leads you inside and pats the freshly cleaned black leather chair, “Alright who’s going first?” 

—

When you leave the shop you’ve both got a huge smile on your face, hands intertwined and swinging as you skip to the car. “I can’t believe we really did that, Katie!” 

“Best believe we did, darling! Now you’re really stuck with me forever,” she pulls you back into her arms. Stopping on the sidewalk to take this moment in with you. 

“And always,” you say barely above a whisper, but it’s enough for just Katie to hear. Your fingertips move as gently as ever as they trace along her ribs, right under her left boob where the fresh ink lays eternally embedded into her skin. You’d both gotten matching ones– a cliche I know– but it was something you’ve both wanted for a while. Hers saying, “go deo” and yours, “i gconai” in the same spot. It’s a promise to each other that’s permanently carved into your persons; a pledge of forever and always. As cheesy as it sounds the words hold dear for you both, and the Gaelic spelling gives a deeper connection as well. 

Katie swears she feels her heart stop beating in her chest as the sounds of the city become nothing but white noise, her body leaning into yours as you share a soft, yet passionate kiss in the busy bustle of the city. You almost don’t want to pull apart, but the remembrance of your surprise is what fuels you to break away and start tugging her toward where she parked the car. “Come on, move it McBabe! I heard we’ve got a plan for lunch, and I’m dying to see what you’ve got arranged!” 

After a 3-and-a-half-hour ride, you finally reach your destination. She’s brought you to Priory Beach, the place you went to on your second-anniversary trip. She leads you out to a white tent on the side of the beach, out of the way enough for some privacy between you two. As she leads you closer you feel tears gathering in your eyes at the sight. There’s not just a tent, but blankets spread out, too. A mini table is set up full of your favorite picnic foods, a vase with your favorite flowers, two wine glasses, and your favorite red bottle to accompany it. A little fully charged DVD player is under the table, and the movie you two watched on your first date sits right beside it. But the polaroids of you two hanging from the white tull-wrapped arch is what does it for you, and before you know it you’re crying like a baby. 

Katie pulls you into her arms as she hugs you, a panicked look on your face as she does. “Oh lord, I’m sorry darling! I didn’t mean to make you upset or anything-”

“No! No! I love it!” you pull back quickly, your shiny eyes meeting her terrified ones. “It’s just..no one’s ever done anything this sweet for me. It’s a lot to take in, okay!” 

She throws her head back and cackles at the realization. “Oh yeah? Not even like…oh, I don’t know, say getting a matching tattoo?” She teases as she wipes your tears away with her thumbs, now cradling your face in her hands. 

“Shut up! You know what I meant, babe!” 

She puts a hand on her chest and acts like she’s just been shot at close range, “Not even McBabe? Oh, see you are mad at me!” She lets out a dramatic sigh, slumping down onto the blanket as she gets on her knees and takes your hands into hers begging for your forgiveness. You quickly do, laughing at her antics before she pulls you down to sit with her. It’s a beautiful view to have as you eat. The waves roll in as a backdrop to the movie as it plays. It’s really all just background music to the endless conversation between you two, the wine keeps flowing, and the hours keep ticking by. But it’s barely been 20 minutes to you both. Too busy drowning out the world around you as you get lost in each other’s eyes and voices, retelling the best moments of your love story as you reflect on how you’ve got to where you are today. “Oh, wow! The lights are a beautiful touch!” you gasp as they flick on, lighting up your space as the sun sets before you. The movie’s long been over and the DVD player dead for a while, too. You take a sip from your last glass of wine and lean your head on Katie’s shoulder, taking in the beauty of the scenery that you’re able to see up close and personal right now. The oranges, pinks, and reds reflect off the water. Ripples of incomprehensible vibrant colors all mashing into one to create an unforgettable memory. “Should we take a picture of the sunse– what are you looking at?” you cut yourself off as you look up at her, the last part of your sentence becoming a whisper. She’s just staring at you, with this unreadable expression on her face, it’s truly one you’ve never seen before (at least not awake). 

“You’re just so beautiful. I wake up every day in awe that it’s me you’ve chosen to spend the rest of your life with. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I thank god every night that I’m holding you to my chest. I get to experience the best parts of life because of you, and I’ll never be able to truly repay you for that, y/n…but thankfully I’ve got the rest of our lifetime together to try.”

You can feel the weight of her words as she speaks them. There’s no smile, laugh, or distraction in her voice. She’s confessing to you, like a sinner in a catholic church. Spilling the contents of her soul out onto the staircase of your heart, and leaving it there for you to either clean it up or let it soak into the deepest parts of you. So you lean up and press your lips against hers. Katie grabs your face, turning you around as she yanks you onto her lap. Your half-empty wine glass goes flying, landing in the sand beside the blanket as the wine leaks into the ground staining it dark. 

You want to say something back to her, but your brain is just mush. It’s like she’s stolen all the thoughts out of your head and you’re just floating in this bliss called her. You’re starting to think she was onto something when she said you fried her brain that one day because holy fuck you’re really humping your fiance’s lap on a public beach right now without a care in the world like you two aren’t famous athletes. “Mmm Katie– someone could s-see us,” you can barely get it out as she keeps her lips on yours. 

“Then let them,” she says it so casually into your lips that you almost listen to her, but one of you has to be the responsible one. So you pull back and give her your best kicked-puppy look, a pout dancing on your bottom lip, “Please, baby. I don’t want to end up on the front page of some tabloid– at least not till I’m officially Mrs. McBabe.” 

She looks at you while biting on her bottom lip, her brows furrowed as she thinks of something deep in thought. You tilt your head at her after a few seconds, placing a hand on her shoulder to check on her. “Baby? Are you ok–OH MY G–” You’re cut off twice. The first time when she manhandles you into the air. The second one is when she continues to manhandle you between her thighs, resting your back on her chest and a hand over your mouth. “Shhh darling! Wouldn’t want to ruin my plan now would you?”

You shake your head no, still not able to use your voice. So she slowly moves her hand away from your mouth, and lets it slide up the inside of your thigh. “Your dress is long enough to hide my hand, and you can hide your face in my neck if you want to, okay? I promise no one will see us” and you nod your head in response. 

“I need to hear you say it. Is this okay with you, y/n?” Her voice is suddenly stern, a hint of her softness peaking out to wrap around the words in a thin veil. 

“Yes baby, j-just please touch me already! God, I’ve needed you since you kissed my breath away this morning.” 

Katie groans into your mouth as she crashes them back together, her fingertips digging into the skin of your upper thighs as they inch up closer to your heat. When they reach your pussy she’s met with instant wetness and a loud breathy moan from you. A laugh rumbles up in her throat and vibrates your mouth as they stay connected, “No panties? Fuck baby you’ve been needing it bad all day, huh?”

You whine out at her teasing, raising your hips up as you search for her touch. Bucking wildly as your body begs for her fingers. “Okay shhh, shhh. I’ve got you now, love. Calm down,” as her digits run up and down your slit. They collect the unfathomable amount of wetness onto her fingers, your pussy leaking like a hydrant for her. She slides a single finger in first, not wanting to overwhelm you before you’re ready. 

“Add another one, please,” you say through a small moan. 

“Only cause you asked so sweet,” she smirks back at you. “My sunshine girl.”

So she slides her finger out and quickly returns with a second one buried inside your cunt. She’s fucking you a little faster now, the reluctance from your tight walls finally letting up. You’re biting your lip, muffled little cries of pleasure audible to Katie’s ears solely. 

Her other hand finds its way into the top of your dress, popping a hand underneath your bra as she starts groping your breasts. She makes sure she gives them both equal attention, switching out every so often to not overstimulate you. Her lips find shelter on your neck, leaving little pecks when and where she wants. But when you start grinding down onto her fingers, she decides to add another one by surprise this time. 

It rips a louder moan from your mouth, especially since her thumb is adding to the mix and rubbing circles onto your clit now. Your body wants to squirm away, but you’re stuck between Katie’s legs, being forced into letting the pleasure wreck through your body. “I’m g-gonna cum, baby!”

You feel a smile against your jaw, “You’re my pretty fucking fiancé, yeah? I love you so much. I can’t wait to marry you, darling. Can’t wait to make love to you as my wife– my other half.” 

 she’s starting to ramble and it’s going to be your downfall. The feeling of her curling them to hit right into her sweet spot draws you even closer to the edge, “Let it all out, darling. Cum on and give it to me!”

And so you do. Your hand comes around to grip her wrist through your sundress, your nails digging into her skin as you flail around in her hold. Your back arches away from her chest and your toes curl as they kick out in front of you. Your walls squeeze her fingers so tight she has to stop moving them as she’s biting love marks into your skin, trying to let this orgasm run its course as long as it can. You swear you’ve never cum this hard– positively boneless in her hold. 

You hiss at the slight sting as she pulls them out of you, immediately bringing them up to her mouth for a detailed cleaning with her tongue. Her eyes roll back at the flavor of you that hits her tastebuds, and she’s manhandling you onto your back this time. The soft blankets swallow you up as you lay down submerged in them, “Wh-what are you doing, K-Katie?”

“I just need to clean you up a bit, baby. I’ll be fast, I promise. Can’t have you all messy the whole ride home, now can we?” You should’ve known at the sight of her smirk right then…that it was going to be anything but speedy, but alas you have fallen victim to the tongue game of Katie McCabe once again. Your legs thrown open wide, back arched off the ground, hand on her head as it disappears under your dress, and a brand new tabloid with a picture of that exact scene on the front page the next morning. But one detail does stick out enough to add it to the headline..the shiny diamond ring on your finger, only visible from the light off of the set up she made you. 

“You can’t even tell that’s us, darling! It’s too dark, we’re fine. Just gotta deny deny deny,” Katie says like she’s a genius. A proud smirk on her face as she tries to pry you out from underneath your fortress of the duvet. 

“THEY HAVE PHOTOS OF US IN THOSE EXACT OUTFITS ALL OVER THE CITY THAT SAME DAY!” it’s shouted from under your mound of protection..not for you– but for Katie. If looks could kill she’d of been dead 10 times before now, all hell breaking loose after you woke up, and not five minutes later you’re getting bombarded with texts of screenshots and links. 

“Okay your right…this is serious, baby, I'm sorry…So should we start the onlyfans on our honeymoon? I could retire ear–”

“KATIE!” And if that wasn’t enough to know you didn’t like that joke, then the pillow to the face should definitely get your mood across.

[atinylittlepain]

Part Two

no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc

series playlist

joel miller masterlist

series masterlist

She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.

word count | 5.1k

chapter content info | 18+ little angst, couples counseling, just two tired people trying to figure out the tangle of their relationship together

a/n | part two is here, and i'd just like to say thank you to everyone being so kind about the first part - i know this isnt the usual peepaw fare, so thanks for giving her a chance - and also big thank you to @wannab-urs for beta-ing this bad boy <3

............................................

This is not a failure. She is not failing. They are not failing. Every Thursday at four o’clock she shuts her laptop and locks her office and stops in the bathroom at work, silently repeats these things to herself in her mind while she rubs her fingers at smudged mascara in the bathroom mirror. Like a mantra, though she’s not sure she’s fully bought into it yet. Because the truth is, she has had plenty of conversations with plenty of girlfriends that, really, they shouldn’t have been having about other girlfriends, not in the room with us girlfriends who, did you hear, started going to therapy and, did you hear, started going to therapy with their, oh no, husbands. Yes, she has been the bitch who has made jokes about death knells and a marriage’s last gasp for breath, jokes about the husband having the emotional range of a goldfish, and the wife being so up the husband’s ass she should give him a colonoscopy while she’s at it. She’s not really making jokes like those anymore. 

She’s not supposed to be doing what she’s doing this Thursday at four o’clock. When they first went to Vicky (LMFT, for the record) her fundamental decree had been a period of full separation. Sixteen years, she had asked, and they had nodded, and she had said whoa boy, yeah, y’all need to back off each other before we do anything else. If Paula Dean had a penchant for self-help instead of butter, she’d be something like Vicky. And so, with all the care of a drill sergeant delivering commands, or a mechanic running a diagnostic on a fucked-up car, Vicky had told them how this is going to go. An apartment, she said, don’t care which one of you lives in it. Minimal contact between sessions, right, keep it civil, right, this isn’t for forever, right. So Joel got an apartment, and Tommy helped him move all the furniture in the basement with admittedly minimal, but still present, wariness, and for the last four weeks they’ve been doing everything their beloved herr-therapist tells them. She supposes it’s working, although you can’t really do much fighting when you only see the other person for ninety minutes every Thursday so, the results might be confounded, actually.

“Hey there.” Hey there? What the fuck, what the actual fuck. He doesn’t think he’s ever said those words to her, ever, maybe not to anyone actually. He feels a little insane, a little itchy under the skin, mouth full of cotton, brain too, because they’re not supposed to be doing this, not really. The first time she’s seen the apartment, or, well, the doorway of the apartment, doesn’t really seem interested in stepping further inside, running her curled palm up and down the strap of her purse and right, not here for that. He shuts the door behind him and then they’re on their way to therapy because it’s four o’clock on Thursday and this is what they do now at four o’clock on Thursday.

“Thanks again. I didn’t think my car would still be in the shop today.”

“Oh of course, you said it’s a transmission leak?” 

“Yeah, the bad, expensive kind that’s above my paygrade. Guy said they’re still waiting on a part for it.”

“Well I’m off work tomorrow if you need a ride anywhere.”

“Vicky’ll get pissed.”

“If she finds out. Are you gonna tell on me to Vicky?” It’s a joke, they can joke, right? She laughs a little on the end of her words to make it clear, hey, it’s a joke, awkward and out of touch and unsure of what the rules are. But he offers a breath of a laugh, at least, fine, it’s fine, they’re fine, and now they’re silent driving to Vicky’s office. 

Should he ask her how her week has been? If the kitchen sink is still leaking? He’s not sure. Not sure about any of it, really. Every week, Vicky asks them how they think they’re doing and Cass doesn’t even hesitate. Good, she says. Not fine, not okay, but good, usually with a sure, terse nod. It takes him a little longer to find the right word to describe how he’s doing. Not sure about that either, but it’s definitely not good. Some things are better, sure, easier not to argue when under foot, easier not to remember all the ghosts they’ve built up around themselves. But at the most basic level, he misses her, even misses arguing with her, in a perpetual state of missing something, walking around and wondering if he left his wallet at home, or if he remembered to call a client about a new build, wondering if he’s missing something essential, a limb or an organ he didn’t know about. No, none of that. Missing something else.

“You’re not wearing your ring.” She flexes her left hand over the steering wheel in response, her very bare ring finger making him feel a quick pinch of something he’ll call anger, though it’s probably something else entirely. 

“No, Vicky advised I try not wearing it during the separation.”

“Why the fuck would she tell you to do that?”

“Joel.”

“I’m just asking.”

“You’re swearing.”

“Well, why didn’t she say the same thing to me?”

“Maybe because I told her this is how you would react.”

“I think I’m having a pretty normal reaction to it, actually.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s just for now.”

“Right.”

“It is.” 

“Seems like a strange thing to advise someone to do when they’ve been married for nearly two decades.” She parks outside of the office complex that Vicky works in, lets out a long sigh through her nose and doesn’t spare him a glance as she reaches around to the backseat and pulls her purse up front, producing her ring from somewhere deep inside of it and sliding it back on her finger. 

“There, are you happy now?”

“Why the hell were you keeping it in your purse?”

“Oh my god, really?”

“That’s a real easy way to lose it is all I’m saying.” The truth is, she’s been keeping it in her purse in order to have easy access to it. Like a pulsepoint, sometimes she just needs to know it’s there, reaching into her purse underneath her desk and yep, still there, still okay. Sometimes she doesn’t get through a whole day without putting it back on. Like reflex, like ghost limb aching. But she’s not about to tell him that.

“Do not bring this up with Vicky.”

“Why not?”

“Because then she’ll know we drove here together.”

“You’re that worried about what Vicky thinks?”

“She’s our therapist, I’m a healthy and appropriate amount worried about what Vicky thinks.” 

“You know she’s not the arbiter of marriage just because she has a couple of degrees, right?”

“Really, the arbiter of marriage?” 

“Are you doing that thing you do, is that what this is?”

“What thing?” 

“Cass.”

“What thing?”

“Are you trying to win therapy?” Fuck him. No, really, fuck him. He’s doing that thing, his thing to her thing, half a smile in the passenger’s seat like he’s got her. Awful, of course he’s got her, smug and sure in his getting her. She doesn’t answer his question, knowing that her silence is an answer in and of itself and not really caring because they have therapy, damn it, and it’s going to be his fault if they’re late to therapy, damn it.

“You know, I’m starting to see why Vicky told us no carpooling to sessions.” Slammed shut, he sighs when she gets out of the car, thinking idly to himself that yes, he doesn’t necessarily disagree with that commandment of their therapist either. At the very least, Cass’ ring is still on her finger. He tried a few times in the past to get her something new, something nicer than the gold band he had given her when they were still young and still not able to afford much of anything, but sure enough in each other to want to keep doing it, all of it, together. No, she would tell him, doesn’t want anything other than the gold band. What she doesn’t know is that he pawned his grandfather’s watch and an electric saw for the ring the shop owner kept in a padlocked display case. Twenty-six years old, and looking back, he thinks he would have sold a whole lot more just to get it for her. 

He used to call her pearl. Something about grit that would make her roll her eyes and ask him what late night National Geographic TV special he got that line from, all the while inwardly swooning because sure, she had been baby before, babe, an errant sweetheart even, but pearl was new, and tooth-decayingly sweet. And when he proposed, Sarah bouncing around them like a manic cupid, Cassandra made an ugly sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry, little black velvet box and a ring that was more signet than wedding, simple and gold and a single pearl set in the center of it. Her hands clasped, she runs the pad of her finger over her ring, wordless and worrying it on the elevator ride up to Vicky’s office. 

Vicky has a thing for lamps and art prints of naked women. Her waiting room is a little dim, no windows, green velveteen loveseat and two high-backed wooden chairs that they always take when they get here, his eyes scanning over the coffee table laden with back-ordered Psychology Today magazines, headlines about overcoming anxiety and exercising your way out of depression. There had been one about postpartum  depression somewhere in the pile the last time they came, but he had made a point of hanging back after Cass left, some excuse about checking an insurance thing with Vicky, though what he really did was pluck out that magazine and throw it away in the men’s restroom down the hall. One less thing to worry about, at the least. 

“Hi, you two, come on back.” The sessions always start the same. Vicky asks them how they think the week went, and they both offer up some iteration of fine. Vicky asks them if they’ve been upholding their phase of separation, and she answers before Joel can, pointedly not looking at him, yes, no contact between sessions. But apparently, this week is going to be different.

“We are nearing the end of the total separation phase. After this initial period of cooling off for both of you, the real work can begin.” Right, phases, because Vicky works in phases like this is some sort of military siege. He tries not to roll his eyes at the real work beginning. 

“Can either of you remember the last date you went on together?” 

“It would’ve been in August, right before the separation.” Cass scoffs at his answer, tilt of her head like, really?

“Tommy and Maria’s baby shower hardly counts as a date. But we did go to dinner at the end of July.”

“I don’t think your work banquet counts either.” Vicky hits them with that look, that yeah, that’s what I thought look, all raised brow and scrunched nose and nodding. Not that she is, but if she, hypothetically, were trying to win therapy, Cassandra thinks she wouldn’t be doing a great job of it right now.

“Right, well, you’ve made my point for me. It’s not unusual for people who have been together for as long as you two have to let things like this fall to the wayside. However, it can be very helpful to reestablish some of these routines. Think of it as marriage maintenance.” 

“So you want us to start going on dates again?” 

“Yes, but not with each other.” Did she? Did he? Hear that right? Cass is nodding like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world, like, yes, of course, this is just the solution they’ve been looking for. This time, he doesn’t hold back a laugh.

“I’m sorry, what?” Both of them look at him like, yes, keep up, please, let us explain this to you very slowly so you can keep up, please. Something about seeing what life is like outside of their marriage, testing the waters, seeing if they still like the same things without their extra marital limb, something about making a decision about their marriage, though he tunes most of that part out because, no, thanks, no new decision has been needed since he got down on one knee during that trip to Galveston, sunscreen and sticky sweet and he’s not sure if he or Sarah was more excited, but he was definitely more nervous. And Cass said yes, and then he wasn’t nervous anymore, not scared anymore, and that’s all there was to it, is to it, right? Right. 

“This is the closing exercise of the total separation phase. It’s really important that you both have this opportunity to see what it’s like to be back in the dating pool. Think of it as a trial run of if you decide to make this separation–”

“No, no thanks. That’s not– we’re not those people, so, you know, we can just move onto the next phase.” 

“Joel.” The mom voice of all things, and he knows for certain now that Cass is trying to win therapy, nudging her shoe into the side of his, and, come on, really? She’s really bought that hard into what Vicky’s selling? Now that, that isn’t like her, at all. 

“What feelings are coming up for you right now, Joel?” She fucking hates that question, and she imagines that he does too, fingers drumming on his knee, long sigh, and she knows that look, that’s his getting ready to bolt look. Big man, big, skittish man who has accidentally nailed his fingers to house frames and hardly shed a tear. But feelings? Yeah, forget it. 

“Uh, I guess I’m confused as to why that is so important for us to do. We came here to help our– to help us, not to create more problems.”

“And you think that if you and Cassandra went on dates, one date, with other people, that it would create more problems in your marriage?” Well, it’s hardly rocket science, Vicky, though judging by the way she’s speaking to him, he’s pretty sure he failed some kind of test of hers. He doesn’t particularly care.

“I imagine it’d do that to anyone’s marriage.” 

“It’s just one date, it’s a part of the process.” She’s starting to get pissed, and trying very hard not to show it in front of Vicky should she get the what feelings are coming up for you treatment. When they agreed to start going to therapy, like a pair of dogs gagging down a pill, they had both agreed to put their full effort into it, and if Vicky wasn’t in the room with them currently, Cassandra would sharply remind him of that agreement. 

“Maybe I should clarify the expectations around this exercise. It’s one date, preferably with people outside of your shared social circle, and it would be best if the focus is just on the date, no sexual relations.”

“Oh really, you think that’d be best?”

“Joel.” He gives her a slack and slanted look, speaking two different languages, apparently. And really, she doesn’t see what the big deal is. One date versus sixteen years is pretty obvious math for her to square up, though it doesn’t seem to be for him. But, watching him engage in psychological tennis with Vicky, some new jab dripping in sarcasm for every reassurance she tries to offer him, the realization comes to Cassandra slowly, simply. Joel is scared. 

By the time they leave Vicky’s office, he feels deflated, defeated, because yes, they are, apparently, going to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them, scheduled in three weeks instead of one to give them time to do this fucking exercise that fucking Vicky has fucking assigned to them. 

“Can’t we just, you know, say we did it but not actually do it?” 

“Are you serious right now?” Judging by the look she gives him, a quick, sharp flicker of her eyes before she focuses back on the road, he thinks he probably shouldn’t say anything else. He shouldn’t, but, well. 

“Is this about pleasing Vicky, or are you just that interested in dating someone else?”

“Don’t be a child about this, Joel. It’s a therapeutic–”

“It’s bullshit is what it is. I don’t– I already know what I want, and I don’t need to go testing the waters to be sure of it. What I’m not so sure about is if you can say the same.” She can’t put her finger on anything specific,  probably just a slow-building amalgamation of things. Stressful week at work, and the leaking sink getting worse, and her doctor increasing a medication dosage that’s made her body feel like something other than her body, and this fucking therapy and this fucking trying and she’s trying so hard and she feels like she’s failing and when she glances at him he looks hurt, really hurt, a close crumple in his face, deep frown, and it frustrates her because all she’s trying to do is do it right, and all she gets is this constant rhythm of resistance, this push and pull and yes, it’s all of that, all of that creeping up her throat tight and hot and curling behind her eyes sending salt pinpricks and sharp pangs. When the first sob breaks, it does so as a gasp, like a small and stunned thing in her chest. And, well, it’s never uphill from there, is it?

“Do you– do we need to pull over?”

“No, I don’t need to fucking pull over. I’m not an invalid, I can cry and drive at the same time.” Except it doesn’t come out quite like that, not smooth like that. The words get stop-started with each new shudder, new stutter, hiccuping on fucking and invalid. The world has gone to slanted stained-glass through all her tears. 

Unsure what to do, but that’s nothing new. He doesn’t say anything else, watches her through the wary side of his eye, sobs turning into something more subdued, little wounded sounds high in her throat, a choice fuck you with a little more bite behind it when someone cuts her off merging onto the highway. He feels useless, feels like, maybe, this is what Vicky should be talking with them about instead of her siege on marriage plan. All he knows is that he seems to get it wrong every time, so this time, he doesn’t interject or intervene, doesn’t say any more than he already has. He lets her cry, and he lets her drive.

He doesn’t know when it happened. When he decided he was going to fix things for her, or just fix her, really. His lady in pieces and he was going to put her back together, and it seemed like every time he tried to, she just shattered a little more. That April is the obvious answer, the most shattered he had ever seen her. But the fighting had started before then, and so had the fixing that wasn’t really fixing. Like a relief, like a release, the slow realization that no, it never worked, and no, it was never going to work. The sobs turn into shivers turn into something even smaller. By the time they pull up in front of his apartment complex, it has passed. 

“I just– I want to do this right, this therapy thing, and I want it to work, and I want it to work so we can be okay again. That’s what I want.” The words hang between them. He makes no move to get out of the car, and she counts her inhales in the silence, waiting for him to say something, anything. It feels like a child’s logic, or maybe a hail Mary, and she knows it, feels a little insane saying it, the words fitting strangely in her mouth. The brief wondering comes to her, what would she have said about where they are now to her girlfriends, what snark, what sharp jokes at their expense? Him in an apartment and a fifteen minute drive separating them and a woman named Vicky unraveling (and in theory, putting back together) their marriage in phases, fucking phases, and fucking Vicky. She doesn’t want to go on a date with someone else, and she doesn’t know why she’s taking Vicky’s instructions as gospel. But she does know, doesn’t she? It’s not about Vicky, not about Vicky and her fucking phases. Fixing, being fixed, that’s what she wants. 

“So, you’re saying you want us to date other people in order to fix our marriage.” Grateful that she takes it for the joke he meant it as, it’s just enough to slough off some of the tension, roll of her eyes, please. They both let out a sigh, too tired for much else. But maybe, he thinks, this counts as progress, sitting here with her in the car and the sun washing everything down burnt and orange. He watches her eyes drop shut for a moment, fine lines like porcelain fissures and he loves those lines, liked catching her in the bathroom with her face pressed up close to the mirror and her fingers pulling those lines taut around her eyes, her mouth. He’d pull her hands away from her face, ask her if she was planning her halloween costume for next year, earning a scoff and a roll of her eyes and her trying to pull away from him, and he wouldn’t let her. Making it better with kisses to those lines, and eventually, her pressing her fingers as light as prayers over his, an implicit wondering, where did the time go?

“Look, if it really makes you that uncomfortable, let’s just lie to Vicky. We could still get like, an A-minus in therapy if we leave just one thing out.”

“I didn’t realize therapy came with a grade.” He smiles, all soft, and she can’t help the sheepish bloom in her chest, rolling her lips back into her mouth to hide her own grin, eventually, reluctantly, admitting in a quiet, skewed to the side voice, okay, so maybe, maybe I was doing that thing, that winning thing. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s a mercy. Just nods, of course, and of course, he knew, maybe even before she did, and is that knowing not a mercy too? She thinks it is. 

“I want to do this right too, Cass. And, I mean, we’re paying Vicky enough money that we should do what she tells us to.”

“Are you saying you want to do it then?”

“Want is a strong word.”

“Okay, are you saying you’re willing to do it?” 

“It’s just the one?”

“Just the one.” 

“Alright, fuck it, let’s do it. We better get a goddamn A-plus at the end of this.” 

“Mmm, gold stars too.” Another sigh, another settling. How nice, another sigh, another settling. It’s a strange equation, but she thinks it still adds up. Neither of them want to do this, not really, but they’re willing to, and they’re willing to because of each other. Willing to try and get it right for each other. Just, well, ignore the finer details of what getting it right entails. 

“You hear from Sarah lately?”

“On Monday, yeah. Called to wish me a happy birthday.”

“Well, only off by four days, not too bad.”

“Oh no, she called on Monday because she was, and I quote, too busy the rest of the week to call.”

“Wow.”

“Right?”

“Is it bad that sometimes I kinda hate it?”

“Hate what?”

“That she’s like, a fully-formed person now. I miss the days when she was a little blob who liked holding onto me by one of my belt loops.” He has to smile, nod, because he knows exactly what she means. And the truth of it is that Sarah was so good, maybe the best, if he’s allowed to give his completely biased opinion. And the other truth, Cass is, was, one of those people simply meant to be a parent, a mother. He remembers when they first started dating, and all the exhausting maneuvering he did, getting his parents or Tommy to watch Sarah, a string of canceled dinner plans when his kid couldn’t seem to stop catching things at daycare. He was sure that Cass would lose interest every time another piece of his reality was revealed to her. After all, he was not unfamiliar with being left behind. But that never happened, she stayed every time. 

It was Cass who first suggested it. Didn't want to impose, but what if, maybe we could, would it be okay if, why don’t we. They went to the zoo that weekend, if he remembers correctly, Sarah in tow, shy at first around the woman she barely knew, though she bloomed over the course of the day. Yes, he thinks, it was the zoo, because he remembers how by the end of the day, Cass had her on her hip, as easy as anything, so she could get a better view of the rhinos. He knows now that, even in those earliest days, she loved his kid just as much as she loved him. He knows now what a gift that was, and continues to be. 

“She’s gonna be alright, Cass. We did good with her.” She sighs, yeah, we did. She had been worried about telling her about the whole lieutenant-LMFT thing, the whole quasi-separation thing, but that was a direct command from Vicky, letting the family know what was going on. Sarah had taken it surprisingly well when she called, could be good, mom, like a reset. Of course, they kept the worst of it away from her, and of course, she still knew something had changed, something not right between them. No one was left unscathed after that April.

From the start, loving him included loving Sarah. It was never difficult for her to do both. Sweet girl, bright like the sun girl, rounded cheeks and bouncing curls, and Cassandra found that her love for her had a particular effect on her heart. Whenever small hand reached for one of hers, whenever small face tucked into her neck, whether tear-damp or milk-tired, and eventually, whenever she was given the name mom, like a stop and restart of her heart, like something turning back on inside her and finally working right. An everything kind of love, to not only be chosen by him, but to be chosen by her too. 

“Well, anyways, Vicky didn’t make any stipulations about birthdays, so I have something for you.” Just a small thing, she says, leaning over the console and into the back seat, and he knows better than to say no, shouldn’t have, because there’s already a perfect package being placed in his hands, navy blue wrapping paper and a white bow, and her hand cups underneath his for just a moment, there and gone. 

The truth is she had already picked out this gift two months ago, what feels like a lifetime before this separation. Now, watching him open it, she’s a little worried it had been presumptuous of her, if not completely narcissistic. But if he thinks that, he makes no show of it, lets out a quiet laugh as he takes the watch out of the box and holds it up in the fading light to look at it. 

“It’s a little sappy, maybe. But, well, we have something that kinda matches now.” Something is unfurling in his chest, heat loosening something he didn’t even realize he had been tightening up around. It’s a beautiful watch, rich leather strap and polished silver. And the face of it catches and shimmers a little in the light. He knows right away that it’s mother of pearl. 

Here, she says, let me, and he does, feeling a little indulgent watching her fasten the watch around his wrist, and definitely breaking one of fucking Vicky’s fucking rules when he ducks his head down and steals a kiss, another one, letting the third deepen just a little, both of them humming because missed this, missed this, didn’t realize how much, but missed this. 

“Thank you, pearly.” It feels good to be so close to him, noses brushing and smiles curling around each other. Feels like a relief. 

“Happy birthday, one day ahead. We could, you know, do something tomorrow? Get dinner maybe?” Before he can answer, say yes, she’s already caught herself, sheepish smile and pulling a little further away and oh, right. She says sorry, wasn’t thinking, and they do an awkward dance around the whole thing, right, yeah, probably shouldn’t, right, yeah. He is not a hateful man, and it would be too strong to say he’d wish Vicky harm. But if something were to happen, in theory, that’d make Vicky go the fuck away, in theory, he wouldn’t be too torn up about it. 

“See you next Thursday then?”

“Well, next next Thursday, because we have to do the– yeah.”

“Right, yeah.” Right, yeah, this is the part where he gets out of the car. The part where he goes up to his apartment and she drives home and they don’t eat dinner together and they don’t brush their teeth together and they don’t go to sleep together. Right, yeah. They say goodnight. He’d like to say love, but he doesn’t. She’d like to say love, but she doesn’t. And they part ways. 

She hates being in this house alone. Leaves all the lights on all hours of the day and checks all the locks three times before going upstairs to bed. Passes by the closed door that remains closed with her breath held. She knows it makes no sense, but she’s been sleeping in the guestroom, makes the whole thing a little easier. Always had a tendency toward insomnia, tossing and turning brain and body. 

When they were just starting to get more serious, and she was just starting to stay over at his more often, she got worried that eventually it'd drive him mad enough for the whole thing to not be worth it, neither of them getting much sleep as they learned how to share a bed together. And she doesn't remember how it started exactly, maybe out of a moment of pure exasperation, him draping just enough of his weight over her to press slower breath into her lungs and still her body. It became a routine, she'd ask could you? And he'd already know what she was asking for without her having to say any more than that. What she also doesn't remember, when that stopped working, when she stopped asking, and he stopped answering. She supposes it all happened slowly, just like the rest of it. 

[starlightsuffered]

Spit Roasted

Info - threesome, sub reader, a bit of cnc, degrading language, spit roasting, skull fuck, making reader hump floor, slapping, light daddy kink, Dom males

“Oh such a good princess,” Oscar slapped my ass. I moaned on Timothée’s cock which he’d shoved in my mouth. When I’d taken a small part in Dune I’d never imagined this. The two men had cornered me when I was working late and had said the dirtiest most perverted things that made my knees weak and my pussy leak.

When I’d fallen on all fours Timothée had pried my mouth open as he’d pulled his pants down. Oscar had lifted my skirt to take me from behind.

“Yeah she is, so willing to serve,” Timothée purred. I felt the older man’s thick cock at my entrance.

“Looked so scared earlier but she’s sopping wet,” Oscar chuckled darkly. I rubbed my thighs together.

“So needy,” Oscar growled. He landed a slap to my pussy. I whined submissively. I heard Oscar sucking on his finger.

He shoved my legs apart with his knee. I shamelessly rode his thigh a bit. I ground down on it as the men laughed at me. I was gulping down Timothée’s Precum.

“Why don’t we fuck this bunny senseless, take what is ours,” Timothée chucked me under the chin with the suggestion. I whimpered like a ducking animal.

“Fuck yes,” Timothée began as he started to fuck my skull. I felt Oscar push deep inside me. I was spit roasted perfectly as the men used me.

“Take my big daddy dick,” Timothée growled. He wrapped his hand around my hair. He pulled. My eyes were filling with tears. My drill dribbled down my chin.

“I want to see how needy the bitch actually is,” Oscar said and my legs were knocked out from under me. I was still propped up to take Timothée’s Cock, but Oscar got on his knees to pressed his body down on me and fuck into me.

“Hump the floor baby girl,” Oscar purred in my ear. My bare cunt was already rubbing on the ground from the wild thrusting. I began to gyrate my hips.

“Good job you perverted little thing. Always wearing those short skirts. You wanted this didn’t you?” Oscar teased me.

“You know she wanted it. She would stare at us and squirm in that chair. Hell I bet she even stayed here late in hopes all her holes would be used,” Timothée laughed.

“This poor hole here,” Oscar said in a simpering tone. He massaged my asshole. “Not filled with with anything. You look so innocent but I bet you’re an anal slut.”

“Mmmmmffff,” I was going into sub space. I felt like a dumb mutt. I was completely brain dead as these two gorgeous men used me. I was cum drunk before they’d even exploded.

“Mm, mm, mm,” I whined like a pathetic thing as I humped the floor. My mouth was used like a glory hole, and my pussy like a cocksleeve.

“Oh baby girl, you want cum? You want to be a damaged piece of property? Never useful to anyone but us again because we ruined you,” asked Timothée. I could hardly breathe. The pleasure of being a piece of meat like this was tantalising.

“I want to see you choking on cum,” he added and yanked my hair so he could see my throat. He began to unleash his load. I was gulping, needing to be a good girl.

I was nearly sobbing as I did my best. My pussy was burning with need. I was so close to the edge.

Oscar grabbed my hips and moved me up and down on his cock. He was using me like an actual toy. I was only useful for this. I was made to be used as a fuck toy in this way.

“Oh fuck,” Oscar roared and now his cum was exploding in my cunt. I came too as Timothée petted The tears running down my face. I was a helpless pile of mush. I didn’t think I could form words even if I tried.

“I think you should be spit roasted every night you sick little slut,” Timothée said gently and I shuddered.

[horusmenhosetix]

Weeee! A very kind person in the pineal cyst fb group recommended another surgeon at the same hospital that the current neurosurgeon I was talking to is at who also operates on Pineal Cysts! He actually got back to me very quickly saying that surgery would be ok for me to have! Just need to get some more info and then finally a date!

I am ready to just hop on a plane and be there tomorrow but it will probably not be that quick. The recovery is long but I am so ready to start recovering. The operations i've had done before have prepared me for this. If I can have a drill unscrewed from my skull while awake I can have brain surgery 😤

In silly sims projects to distract me from my unceasing pain news I finished the database type thing with my mega maxis match geneticised skin scale™ and it is so satisfying to scroll down it haha. Now to actually add the numbers to the files themselves. 💀

[raya-rhaenyra-ahsoka]

My thoughts on Ep.5 - A God Buys Us Cheeseburgers, A rant (Spoilers Ahead!)

First of all, the chaos with what happened in the Arch was expected, but Annabeth seeing the Fates was not expected.

Annabeth insisting that Percy is alive, and went to find him near the water.

Percy casually greeting them hi. Like he wasn’t stung by the Chimera and fell off the St. Louis Arch. This will never be not funny.

Annabeth rushing to hug Percy and didn’t even care that he was soaked.

Me, internally: PERCABETH! PERCABETH! PERCABETH! 😍🎉

Percy just now realizing that a god could not have stolen the master bolt and might have been helped by someone. Grover and Annabeth looking at him like, seriously?

This convo:

Percy: Why are you being weird with me again? I thought we’re not doing that anymore.

Annabeth: I’m not being weird.

Percy: Yes, you are. You’ve been weird since we left the Arch.

Again, that’s their relationship.

Percy assuming it’s because of the hug. And Annabeth being like, No idiot I saw the Fates! Percy, honey, you’re the one being weird about it.

At this point, Imma give Grover some popcorn while he watches them argue.

Biker Ares casually asking 3 kids if they need help. Definitely not sus.

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover hiding behind the road barrier like, uh, no, we’re good. Idk, but that’s funny to me.

Ares snorting and saying they’re behind schedule and offering to help his little cousin.

Ares immediately recognizing Annabeth as Athena’s kid. Ares being like, Omfg she sounds just like my sister. That’s definitely her kid.

So a biker offering to help 3 minors in the middle of nowhere and offering them food. In other people’s perspective, that’s definitely sus.

Ares being a Twitter Troll is something I never knew I need.

Percy and Annabeth being so unimpressed with Ares was so funny. Like, so this is the god of war? Really?

Gabe painting Percy as a fugitive, and Percy being pissed about it. Not surprised.

Ares being pumped that there’s a war coming.

Percy and Annabeth fucking ready to fight Ares, and Grover’s just there like, let’s all calm down.

You left your sheild? Like, forgot it on a merry-go-round? Girl, you’re talking to a god.

Negotiating with Ares 101:

Ares: Okay, the satyr stays here while you two get my shield.

Percy and Annabeth: No!

Grover: Okay, sure.

Percy and Annabeth: wtf

The Waterland giving off steampunk/horror movie vibes is something I’m here for.

Percy making plans to take Annabeth to see a movie in the middle of their death quest just because she admitted to never having seen one is just so sweet. PERCABETH!😍

Annabeth being fascinated by Hephaestus’ engineering.

Grover’s therapy session with Ares to get more info is also something I never knew I needed.

The f*cking Thrill Ride O’ Love! IT’S HAPPENING!

Book fans rn:

Annabeth: Don’t you even try to tell me not to be weird about this.

Percy: I didn’t say anything.

Annabeth: I can feel you thinking it.

Oh, my babies. PERCABETH! 😍

Percy calling the Thrill Ride O’ Love a ghost ride is something I agree on.

The awkward silence while they ride the rowboat though, and then suddenly you hear, WHAT IS LOVE? BABY DON’T HURT ME... That shit cracked me up.

The light projections in the tunnel telling Hephaestus’ story.

The ride turning into a horror boat ride to a whitewater rafting ride was so unexpected. I’d pay to see that kind of boat ride rather than an actual tunnel-of-love ride.

Them having to jump and Percy unknowingly pulling Annabeth to safety with his water superpowers. He’s a waterbender and he doesn’t know it. LOL

Ares, the literal god of war, just ranting off to a random satyr he found in the middle of nowhere about his overachiever sister and her feathered pet will never be not funny.

Annabeth not hesitating to sit on the chair, and Percy stopping her.

SEAWEED BRAIN! SEAWEED BRAIN! SEAWEED BRAIN! SHE SAID THE THING! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

Book fans:

[Spoiler] To non-book-readers, that's her nickname for him.

Percabeth arguing about a life/death decision. This is their relationship.

Percy giving Annabeth Riptide. He trusts her. Aww. 😍

Percy having to sit on the chair, while Annabeth gets the shield.

Annabeth nearly backing out at the last second, while Percy assures her that he’s okay while trying not to cry.

Annabeth ignoring the shield then immediately and desperately tries to free Percy.

Annabeth bargaining with Hephaestus. Maybe, I was that way once, but I don’t wanna be that way anymore. I won’t be like all of you.

Hephaestus releasing Percy was definitely his way of saying, Girl, same. You’re a good kid. Imma make sure you’re Mom knows that.

THIS PIC! THIS IS HISTORICAL RIGHT HERE! GO BACK TO THIS POST AFTER THIS SHOW HAS SEVERAL SEASONS AND MOUNT ST. HELENS ERUPTS. *wink-wink

Percy and Annabeth going back to the diner with the shield casually, and then like, we got your shield, now where tf is our ride?

Ares’ ride: The Kindness Internation truck a.k.a. illegal animals smuggling van.

Thank you for the emotional abuse and the cheeseburgers and the ride! ~ Grover Underwood. Iconic!

Grover telling Percy and Annabeth about his therapy session with Ares: I know who stole the master bolt!

Of course, it’s a cliffhanger. But nothing will beat the HoO:MoA one.

Bruh, the amount of Percabeth content in this episode is just *chef’s kiss*. It’s all coming together. I can’t even fathom how much of an emotional rollercoaster I was watching this episode. It just keeps getting better and better! 😍

[tw1nkee28]

Alright, it's about time I talk about someone other than Dawn so, here you go

˙⋆✮ Info about my CoD oc, 'Beetle'! ✮⋆˙

⚠️Warning!⚠️ lots of words, heavy mention of death and mental struggle, Konni group. Enjoy more of my mindless ranting

(Art credit for the right image - @/pampanope)

Close ups of the two images in the ref ↓

In detail info below ↓

——————————————————————————

Name: Vadik Petrov Aliases: Beetle, Pest

Nationality: Russian Ethnicity: Russian

(help, people said nationality and ethnicity for Russia are the same word in English and my small brain can't wrap around the smaller details so I'm just putting Russian for both 😭)

Age: 29 DoB: 8/29/1995 DoD: 9/7/2024

Pronouns: He/Him Gender: Cis Man Sex: M

Sexuality: Gay (in the closet)

Height: 5'6

Languages: Russian, English, small bits of German

Which CoD universe: Modern Warfare (III)

Branches of Service: Air Force (5 years, 19yo to 24yo)

Affiliation: Konni

Specialities: infiltration, stealth, weapon tech, combat controller (calls in and directs airstrikes)

Personality: Bubbly and energetic, very hardworking and focuses intensely when it's needed. He can be very teasing to people close to him but lights up a room when he enters, easily entertained. Generally a pushover and follows orders to the T, overthinks a LOT which leads to prevalent anxiety and anxious, skittish behavior.

Backstory: grew up in a military household, his father having been a drill sergeant and contractor for the Konni group, who took after his grandfather and his brothers having already joined Konni under their father's wishes. His father pushed him into joining the Air Force to get a few years of experience under his belt before he made him leave and join Konni with his brothers at the age of 24.

Had no idea what he was getting himself into, his vision of Makarov having been skewed by his brothers and father singing his praises at any given moment.

Stayed in the group for a few years with a very guilty conscience of what he was doing but stayed under family pressure, eventually getting fed up and trying to leave. After finding out, Makarov threatened the life of his family to keep him in the group, didn't kill him on the spot only to keep his family in Konni as loyal disciples.

He stayed for a few more years to preserve the life of his family and himself before he was accused of being a traitor and sharing information with another team on a mission, after pleading his case and continuing to repeat that he hadn't, his older brother was shot and killed in front of him as a means of convincing him to fess up. His innocence was proved shortly after and he was released, continuing on in the Konni group without any means of escape. He continued in the group with a much more hollow outlook on life until he was shot and left for dead on the field during a mission. Passing away at the age of 29.

Issues: anxiety, overthinking, PTSD, claustrophobia, facial dysmorphia

Habits: fidgets by tapping (tapping fingers or pens on any hard surface, annoying pretty much anyone around him), refuses to take his mask off even around family, only switches from his goggles to sunglasses when he's home. Constantly checking up on his family via calls, texts, visits, etc. to make sure they're still alive and well. Switches between hands often (ambidextrous)

Scars: very few visible, a few small ones scattered over his body that you probably couldn't catch at first glance.

Preferred method of showing care/affection/love language: physical touch, quality time

Preferred way of receiving care/affection: words of affirmation, physical touch, quality time

Eye Color: dark green (army / olive green)

Hair description: Short, curly, dark brown hair. Two distinct pieces sticking up at the top along with an ahoge sticking up at his hair part.

Clothing description: A black earpiece and black ski goggles. Dark green zip-collar camo shirt with a black military vest. Has two insect-like wire antennas sticking out from his goggles that function like TV antennas so he has signal in hard to reach places. Very dark green camo combat boots and nearly black camo cargo pants, right handed gun holster on his thigh. Black fingerless gloves

Body description: thin with lanky limbs and small amounts of muscle. Very little body hair, moles scattered over his body, and fair skin. A small, visible tooth gap on the left side of his mouth, close to the front.

Favorite activities: spending time with his family, specifically his brothers

Blood type: A-

Favorite animal(s): ball pythons (had one as a pet growing up), dogs, big cats

Favorite food/dessert: Pelmeni (specifically pork, but he likes the others too), and pickles. (I love pickles so much, talking about food is making me so hungry 😭 Pelmeni looks so good....)

• Born and raised in Krasnodar, Russia

——————————————————————————

Much like my other CoD oc, he reminds me of a dog with his actions. Though being more like a friendly and obedient puppy. He follows orders and directions to the letter, doing whatever he's told despite any moral dilemmas those orders may cause.

Having been exposed early on in his career to bad people, working under corrupted and sick men with no sense of morals which rubbed off on him a bit, ruining his sense of right or wrong.

——————————————————————————

He works with his two brothers (one older, one younger) and his father, his mother being a stay at home mom.

He's very much a momma's boy and calls her when he can, being very close to his family especially.

He's decent with spy and infiltration work, though being much more experienced with tech and the air force responsibilities. Having brief physical combat training earlier on in his career in case a situation calls for said knowledge.

——————————————————————————

Later on in my storyline of sorts, his older brother, who he's very close with, is shot and killed in front of him (as stated earlier). His sense of self preservation and morals crumbles further, making him more of a bitter and spiteful man the further he progresses into his career.

——————————————————————————

He runs out of people to be loyal to after the early passing of his younger brother (passed on a mission gone wrong), being out of touch with his father at the time, making him a loose canon, barely able to think for himself after years of orders and commands spat at him and mindlessly following.

His life is ended early at the ripe age of 29, taking a bullet to the head mid-mission. Gaining him a heavily decorated headstone right alongside his Brothers' near his parents home in Russia.

——————————————————————————

Favorite color - yellow !!

Favorite activities - sketching, spending time with his family, training and messing around with his gun skills (since he can't use them often with his role in the company)

Favorite animal - Ball pythons (had a piebald one named 'Missy' growing up, has had a love for them ever since), dogs of all sizes, big cats like leopards and cougars

• closer to the middle of his career he gained a small crush on Makarov sort of like Stockholm syndrome, it made him more willing to be obedient and search for his praise at any given chance.

• it faded just as quickly as it came after Makarov killed his older brother.

• Doesn't always do well in high stress situations, which doesn't work in his favor since every day is a high stress situation

• had regular breakdowns half way through his career because of the moral dilemma caused by the Konni group's terroristic and gruesome nature.

• had two brothers

Older (30yo, deceased)

Younger (27yo, deceased)

• and a mother and father

Mother (54yo, alive)

Father (58yo, deceased)

——————————————————————————

I do in fact have 2 au's where he lives!

One where he actually does manage to escape after his brothers' passing and is picked up by Graves like a stray cat off of the street

And another where he's saved by the 141 and taken out of the Konni base on that one mission in MW III (mission name 'Highrise')

——————————————————————————

Now, I dunno what else to add to this, so I think that'll be all for now

I might add more in the future if I think of anything else, but for now, thank you for reading 🫶

[lxmelle]

The subconscious, the soul, and the body...

It’s an understatement to say that the links and concepts between these are complicated / complex within the jjk world.

I’m just going to write about what I understand so far, and if anyone else has theories or a deeper understanding of it, please drop me a comment or reblog with your own thoughts. I’m open to discourse!

The rest is just largely focused on Gojo and Geto - exploring how their subconscious, soul and body may have been affected by their relationship.

What was meant to be short has gone into theorising territory as I attempt to make sense of things. I am Satosugu / SuguSato indulgent.

(Ps: I don’t discriminate over who tops/bottoms or if they even do it at all. Soulmates don’t necessarily need to copulate as far as I'm concerned).

Be warned and afraid.

It’s a real whopper of an essay by the way. If that’s not your thing, please just skim or pass - or stay for the parts you want to read and do it in multiple sittings if it gets too much.

Can you imagine what it’s like living in my brain? Ha! It’s too much for me too, hence, the info dump.

Sharing here, as I think some people enjoy reading about them too.

NOT spoiler-free. More under the cut (o^^o)

In my brainrot, the cogs start turning and sometimes 2 becomes what looks like 4 and I just have to get it out - you know the drill. Word vomit. If you’ve clicked, welcome and I hope you enjoy your stay with my obsessive brainrot, tangents, love for Gojo and Geto.

A bit on the Soul, the Body, Sub/Consciousness, and Cursed Techniques - skip this part if it’s boring:

So, based on what we have been told, Mahito believes he can see the soul, and that the body & soul are separate. For humans, souls can linger after death but upon rebirth, curses and humans alike will not know one another nor will they retain memories.

“Lingering after death” might be relevant to “north and south” too, but we don’t know with certainty what the afterlife in jjk looks like. North seems to mean rebirth - to become “someone new” - that is assuming Mei Mei is right.

Being sealed in an object (like Sukuna) is different to being in another body (Kenjaku and Tengen), and being in a binding vow/curse also changes depending on the nature of the contract, and being reborn is largely different to the rest because it seems to denote that the soul resets its memories at the very least.

Worth noting that I’m not clear on whether the spirit is different to the soul as well. They could be synonymous to some degree, but I think a spirit has the essence of a soul (indicating consciousness), and I define something with a soul to be at least a creature (with a physical body) or entity (metaphorical form).

In Toji’s resurrection case, his body is so strong from Heavenly Restriction, that it overpowers the soul of the host - Toji thus kills granny. His soul information wasn’t brought back, but some information must’ve been carved into it for it to retain… something. This something included parts where his body recognised Megumi as someone significant enough and attacked itself. (One has to ask if this is a parallel with Geto in no less than fewer than 10 chapters earlier, where his hand moved - more on this later.) Based on this, the body is separate to the soul but information can be written into it. And like the soul, a body can also be brought back through cursed technique.

OR, another interpretation is like as Kenjaku hypothesised - the body and soul are one. And if granny’s cursed technique is just summoning information, and when the soul and body are very linked like in Toji’s case, they both manifest - as in the body is so strong it pulls his soul along with it. I’m speculating. It could equally be soul information carved into the body (I’m leaning more to this interpretation).

Where curse techniques are concerned… For Yaga, he can extract the soul from the body - insinuating they are also not one and the same. And it’s not just information because the soul exists within what becomes a special grade cursed object. Multiple souls in panda’s case.

And cursed techniques themselves seem to be bound to the body for some - as in Geto’s case where Kenjaku can utilise his as well as his own techniques (along with those of his previous vessels)... however, with Sukuna and his vessels? Soul. Yuta with his copy technique - these are existing without the body or soul as this is his curse technique I guess. Reincarnated sorcerers bring their skills along with their souls too. And domains are supposedly tied to the soul. Geto was not shown to have one (but jjk 0 was created at a time where domains never existed) and if he did, Kenjaku did not have access to to it, unless the theory that the Womb Profusion is real.

Yuji could meet with Megumi's soul buried deep in his own body shared with Sukuna, that was now sunken in due to the bath of evil and killing of his sister. He also has the ability to shake a person's soul through his punches. So the soul seems to be something that can reside within a vessel and be touched through powers / ability.

Gojo was shown to be able to “see” something akin to Megumi’s soul, but this wasn’t depicted for when he saw pseudoGeto, despite the light novel saying he was constantly “staring at the shape of his soul” as he flew off on his pelican spirit. His physicality (six eyes) all but confirmed it was Geto. It was his soul that said otherwise - and it was enough to refute his six eyes. And Kenjaku believes the body & soul are one and the same, thus, confirming Gojo’s six eyes.

Or maybe Gojo can’t quite see souls? We haven’t been explicitly told. Did he see souls everywhere in that case? A part of me suspects Gege retconned this “seeing of the soul” for his fight with Sukuna, but I might be wrong. We saw the same blurry image as a representation of the soul with his six eyes, but this theory doesn’t hold up when we consider how he met with Geto at the airport.

The afterlife scene in ch236 shows their souls / consciousness somewhere at an airport (it is not known if they are merely greeting Gojo or have been there awaiting his arrival). This shows us also that they are separate. The soul has gone somewhere: Cursed realm or an Afterlife are the possibilities presented to us... because they haven’t reincarnated. Going nowhere doesn’t seem likely in the jjk world as they talk incessantly about souls and how they can be resurrected in one form or another.

For the sorcerer Geto fought with his Shiba doggy in HI - it was a fantasy of sorts - and is similar to the space between “curse and reality” that Kenjaku talked about with Sasaki. So it could be a cursed realm. And then Gojo smirking when Sukuna was giving his after-battle “send off”… did that indicate the body and soul could be one & the same? Is the afterlife a fantasy? It was a death dream? (Ah, idk how I feel about this, but again, the jjk world believes in souls).

It is so confusing. I know Gege likes the whole “there is no ultimate truth” but making this topic “up to individual interpretation” is really mind-boggling.

But Mahito and Kenjaku end up agreeing that they must be different based on technique. Maybe this is Gege’s retcon lol. Like how he created limitless and then got some people with the knowledge of physics to explain it retroactively?

I guess the manga readers needed a bit more real-world explanation once it got traction, which is understandable. But equally, some things may just need to exist as they are in fiction and unexplainable based on earthly morals or boundaries by the laws of physics and biology as we understand it.

It is possible that it’s just all dependent on curse technique, which makes Yuta’s copy possible without the body, the creation of Sukuna fingers allowing the transcendence of skills and soul without the body, Kenjaku to access soul-information (like memories) without the brain (as well as utilise the cursed technique), and for exceptions to occur, like Megumi and Yuji both accommodating the soul of another entity in their body. How some entities (sorcerer and cursed spirit alike) can touch souls - or even for cursed spirits to take on more human-like existences - implying they, too, can evolve and become a soul. Like humans evolving to become sorcerers (if they can).

And with a technique like cursed spirit manipulation, once a human’s soul is unable to exist in its physical body, the person will die unless they are like tengen with a curse technique that allows its soul to be removed - as as its form weakens… what happens to the soul if a creature / entity / being becomes more spirit than a human, where someone like Geto / pseudoGeto / Kenjaku can absorb it? I suspect they are exorcised, and they live as Pokémon-like shikigami spirits that have no soul?

We know those like Naoya can become cursed spirits, and Rika’s soul can ascend into somewhere leaving a shikigami spirit behind, so this tells us there are various levels of existence and consciousness - like a hierarchy of sorts with the soul being the most pure / transcendent. It makes sense based on my Buddhist understanding too, but who knows what exists in the jjk world. I’m just trying to make sense of it all...

And of course as I write this, ch.257 just dropped and Kenjaku bloody managed to create Yuji in a completely different era after somehow accurately discovering the reincarnated soul of Sukuna’s twin that was absorbed by him in the womb?!? 🤯 Gets pregnant as Kaori and manages to birth Yuji who could have been by luck or by design, inherited his father’s old soul’s Cursed Technique? So since Cursed Technique can manifest despite completely different DNA, it’s possible for one to assume that the Cursed Technique may be bound to the soul rather than the body… or at least for Kenjaku’s technique, he can create it within the body. or the soul?

What. The. Actual. Heck. And what happened to papa Yuji?

My brain starts to go bananas.

So souls can be split into twins if the egg splits into two (Maki & Mai and Sukuna & his twin (reincarnated into papa Yuji), and can reincarnate. But are considered one. But one can reincarnate separately. 🤯

And on reincarnation: Was the previous six eyes & limitless user Gojo before reincarnation, and does that mean that there won’t be another six eyes + limitless user since Gojo chose to go South? Especially since only one can exist in the world at any given time. Did Mai's spirit join up with Maki, or did she reincarnate?

It would make sense if the series is leading us to a conclusion whereby there is a new world where sorcerers don't exist anymore and all these OP beings like Sukuna, Kenjaku, and skills like the six eyes and limitless, cursed spirit manipulation, cursed speech, or copy aren't being reincarnated in the jjk world as it is now - by choice of the users. If Gojo and others all decide to stay in wherever they wish in the afterlife (pockets of reality wherever they may be), then the human world and the sorcerer world and the cursed spirit world will all exist separately.

But I honestly don't know if that's a good ending. It wouldn't make for very good storytelling? And all it would take was for a soul to get bored and wish to be reincarnated. So too many loopholes.

I mean, I could go deeper into speculating, but I really just wanna focus on the impact on Gojo and Geto for now...

More within the Satosugu / Sugusato context. Read here for it, or skip if it’s boring:

It seems romantic for those who have enjoyed the meme... “would we know each other in another life?”

Especially if these two were made to be counterparts. Anyway, moving on to what we see in the jjk world.

Those who like this pairing probably know these scenes:

Take it how you will. It’s rather evocative and indicative of a strong bond. If you’ve read some of my other analyses, you’ll know I feel that in the jjk world: To love is to recognise / know the other, even if they presented themselves differently. To love is to long for them, and to yield - something - whether it is a power or a sacrifice, for another.

Love shapes and forms a reason. Meaning. Purpose. It does something to the subconscious. It affects and alters a person and their soul. And even without the subconscious or the soul, one’s body can react.

Some of this will be my personal interpretation but it remains canon that Gojo’s soul recognised it wasn’t Geto with Kenjaku inhabiting him. Gojo didn’t want to kill Geto but he did in the end partly because Geto wanted him to. Maybe a part of him always wanted Gojo to, which is why it/he was a curse only Gojo could bear - the responsibility to kill him was always Gojo’s.

Gojo always had Geto in the palm of his hand. Neither acted to tip the strange unspoken balance they had where no lines were crossed until Geto declared war. Geto didn’t want to pull Gojo into his broken-down world in an attempt to attack the roots of the problems in the curse-filled world. Gojo attempted to reform the jujutsu world for a long time whilst holding it up within the institution as he knew it, hoping to make room for Geto should he wish to be saved. Yeah we know he really didn’t want saving in that way... he was too busy trying to save the ones he deemed worthy by eradicating the sinners, evolve those with potential and annihilate the weak. If he was weak he deserved to be killed.

Both longed for the other but could never quite be honest with one another. I headcanon that the words, “if I could be you” were thought about more than once by each of them. That’s why Geto said it and tried to be strong, and Gojo wanted to reform the world through eduction. They swapped fortes because they lost the other on the paths they walked on. They needed each other but fate had a different plan.

They didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had formed between them until many years later. Ultimately, despite their differences, they shared the same ideals and were designed to be counterparts. There was always a space for the other in their hearts.

In those two scenes, I wondered for a while: what was Gege’s point of depicting Gojo switching back to “ore” (in reference to himself - a nuance that cannot be translated into English from its original context within the Japanese culture) for two brief moments. What does it imply about their connection? How do we understand the levels of their “counterpart-ness”? Soulmatism. Romanticism. Whatever you want to call it.

And even pseudoGeto’s body reacting to Gojo’s voice calling out to Suguru. Nothing much ever came from it, and the conversation Mahito and Kenjaku had about the soul hasn’t been expanded on since (to my knowledge). So what was Gege getting at? What are we meant to understand? Back then, it maybe served as an unresolved issue - that Geto may need to have been rescued if his soul was trapped. But now that we saw him at the airport... we can all collectively breathe a sigh of relief - unless it was just a death dream. Then we can collectively cry.

So let’s go back to their connection. We know that Gojo and Geto were practically bonded and changed by being each others’ “one and only”. However you interpret their love is up to you, but it is undeniable that there is something unique and irreplaceable shared between them.

It was Mimiko and Nanako who recollected that Gojo was Geto’s One and Only 「たった一人の親友」.

This is undeniably canon. Geto mustn’t have mentioned him only once, or at least they learned through observation, that Gojo was important to him despite having his cult family. It’s possible that Geto might not have seen the other cult leaders much, if they were operating from different places. So this precious space was never filled after they “argued”. Geto was probably lonely / alone too after becoming PapaGeto.

And as a parent: you love your kids but they aren’t replacements for your life partner / soulmate. The same can be said for Gojo and his students. Even after death, there is a placeholder for that person. Even between partners, some people are more significant than others.

I wanted to note that this happened after the Toji incident:

Geto is actually holding an eraser, and Shoko, the pencil. It appears switched in the anime. So maybe it is not as important as it could be: by that, I mean, if Geto chose an eraser because he doesn’t like the idea of harming Gojo. So this is my headcannon.

But I theorise that it’s possible. Geto doesn’t like harm to come to those he loves - like arguing. With his cult family, this was one of the philosophies they continued after his death. Geto interpreting the kfc breakup as an “argument” also speaks volumes, imho.

The eraser goes further than the pencil, probably because it is considered less dangerous than a pencil, which Gojo elaborates in the next panels.

We also know that Gojo knows Geto - the ins and outs. He knows what he smells like (residuals, scent or whatever you want to call it) and can predict what he might do based on how well he knows him. This is reciprocal as Geto, too, knows how Gojo thinks. Kenjaku of course exploits this.

It’s not too much of a stretch to think that Gojo has a tendency to let his guard down around Geto. Hence his switching to “ore” 「俺」 and his mask “of proper decorum and speaking politely” slips when he sees pseudoGeto (whom he thinks is Geto momentarily) and also Geto at the airport. He reverts to “boku” after that. (If you’re not already aware, Gojo used “ore” throughout the Hidden Inventory arc but changed to “boku” after Geto left - likely as a result of maturing and adopting his friend’s advice to be more polite.)

For context:

Gege himself says he sometimes switches to usage of “ore” when he is excited - taken from the hared interview with Tite Kubo in the jjk character book.

So it’s really not imagining things when we see Gojo depicted specifically to be reacting like this to Geto alone. It seems like Gege is showing us something about Gojo’s subconscious / psyche. They are largely authentic with each other. There is a cultural difference in Japan about context of the inner (honne) and outer voice (tatemae). “Ore” and “Boku” represent that for Gojo respectively, I gather.

Their friendship, the rupture (and the intermittent anguish over 10 years), and having to kill his best friend - are all precisely why he gets sealed. His subconscious seems to know that Geto wouldn’t hurt him. He also trusts that Geto’s subconscious wouldn’t hurt him either. He believed Geto wouldn’t kill young sorcerers - and true to form, this cost him his life.

So there is trust for the person’s mind, there is knowing/identifying of the soul, there is familiarity of the body…

Which is interesting because all that is there is the body. Geto’s subconscious isn’t there anymore with his brain not physically present in pseudoGeto/Kenjaku’s body - but then his arm reacts to Gojo.

It even continues reacting for some time. Look at those veins along his arm in the panel below:

This is significant in the reciprocal nature of Gojo and Geto - Gojo’s speech changed for a moment and he is hit with all the memories from 3 of the best years of his life - his “3 years of Aoi Haru”/3年の青い春 like being smacked with his own unlimited void. Geto’s body reacts involuntaril and tries to retaliate, (just like Toji did several chapters later to stop himself from hurting Megumi/ending his massacre).

They reached for each other, y’all 😭

Again my brain just goes places, and it made me wonder about the soul & body thing. I hope that Geto’s soul is really at the airport, but that there is information carved into the body (like his memories) - if they’re important enough to become instinctual.

It is also, by extension, then possible that... Kenjaku experiences something outside of just thoughts /memories when inside his host...

Just as we see here - yes he does need to keep an eye on the cube, but his expression / reaction to knowing that the girls’ presence are there... addressing them only after the curses have left, and what he says to them, as well as admitting he doesn’t remember what regret feels like -

…and cue an tighter shot of the prison realm (with Gojo’s eyes in the anime depiction) (and interestingly the back of the realm has stitches like Kenjaku’s forehead).

Gege likes to foreshadow and follow up with something significant. So similarly to the above where he sees the girls and acts like he doesn’t give a toss, but is depicted to seem contrary to what he says. Could it also be that it Gojo’s eyes staring that incited the involuntary movement, and the reemphasis of Kenjaku saying he was enjoying the view of seeing Gojo captured - a similar pattern? This old man is just a brain who forgot how to feel?

It begs the question for me: If there was something imprinted within the body that Gojo could call out, what was there?

It remains possible that Kenjaku was simply detached / in denial / ignoring any emotion that arose within from Geto’s body.

Arguably, it is possibly quite characteristic of Kenjaku who was a “mother” and had some motherly instincts remaining, or it could also be seen as an emergence of some sympathy or sadness for the girls that may have come from Geto’s body. I mean, he led Yuji’s friend (Sasaki) out of the culling games, acting like a parent / guardian...

Hmm…

We do not see a physical reaction to any children though; and I guess a situation like that (with the Hasaba girls) in comparison to one that may be filled with adrenaline like a trapped Gojo speaking in that low baritone to him, is inherently different. But regret though? Was it actually a knowing smirk Gege showed us of Kenjaku in front of the prison realm - as if to say he had bested Gojo and Geto? He got his way with the girls too, despite knowing Geto’s feelings?

Or did he simply not recognise it, and it was truly a first for Kenjaku because there normally isn’t something there, but with Geto’s body - something actually stirred / retaliated... because it was Gojo?

I mean, from a neutral perspective, it would seem like the author is shipping them, lol. But I’m not going to lie - we don’t get much honest feedback from Geto about Gojo, so nuggets like those are quite affirming that the connection felt between them was very mutual.

Because if we see how it all began, and note that all Geto wanted to do was to protect those who needed it (even if it was at his personal expense). First it was humans, then Gojo, then sorcerers and then his family too.

And this was born out of the fracture from being unable to be relied upon to kill Toji (avenge Gojo & Riko’s death) or to fight Toji with Gojo, since leaving him alone resulted in getting him killed - which he must’ve believed happened until the point he saw him alive again carrying Riko’s lifeless body...

His connection with Gojo was so strong that (as Gege described it) his body reacted like a dragonfly whose head has been cut off. Something imprinted so deeply in their friendship that it became instinctual - carved into the body - and may not be related to the mind (therefore my avoidance of using the term “subconscious” with pseudoGeto, as it would be Kenjaku’s consciousness).

Moreover, if we take Toji’s resurrection as an example, even in the absence of a soul, the body can still remember and react. In a Geto’s case, where there is a different mind controlling it, for the body is react as separate entity is rather remarkable. I guess by saying this, I’m postulating that I believe body & soul are separate - because, if I’m honest, I want to believe Geto’s soul is with Gojo post-chapter 236.

But. We know there are all of Geto’s memories within the body still after Kenjaku inhabit it. In the absence of the host’s brain. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, Gege - but here we are. And maybe. Emotions too. Or memories of them at the very least. Not that it matters to Kenjaku.

This greatly disturbs me. It’s a level of injustice that also feeds into why I have been avoiding doing metas in Gojo - because his suffering and level of unfairness thrust upon him for simply being “blessed” and resilient just … hurts so bad. I can’t face it just yet.

So what exactly made their connection so profound?

I theorise that Geto interpreted Gojo as wanting to fight alone. That he was in his best element doing so. Kenjaku says this about Gojo too, knowing Geto’s memories.

Short sidenote: Whilst it is true that his technique lends itself better to soloing, I wonder how they might’ve fought together had the Toji incident not occurred. How would they overcome Unlimited Void aside from being back/to-back? Could Geto obtain a curse of his own to swallow him up as protection? No doubt, as a team, Geto’s progression could’ve been exponentially increased due to the number and level of curses available to him with assistance from Gojo. And would Gojo be different and enjoy fighting together had it not occurred? I don’t know, but they do seem to have wanted a connection with one another.

He saw Shoko being asked for help with teleportation. Once upon a time, might it have been him? There was no longer any “we” that he could sense. He didn’t feel there was a use when he had “failed” in so many ways after the failure of the mission and also believing that Gojo died that day and he was unable to avenge him.

The conversation with Yuki all but reinforced his feelings of irrelevance and perceived waste of their sacrifice when tengen was allegedly stable again. Subsequent conversations with Haibara and Nanami seals his skewed belief that he wasn’t needed there. Nanami’s choice of words is very interesting in the original text, implying that “it’s enough for him (Gojo) alone, isn’t it?”. Ref post by @nanami-says who has a nice selection of pieces about translations.

Gojo alone could do it. He could train and ascend all without him; untainted and untethered. His downfall was that he didn’t speak to Gojo. Gojo alone was left out. I mean, just because it suited him doesn’t mean he should be left to do it all...

This is so sad.

He left his heart (Gojo) alone. He also left his own heart alone (never happy from the bottom of his heart). In his descent, he was busy rationalising everything else except getting sad that he felt he’d lost his best friend. Arguably, the most important thing, because it is the scariest things and the things that hurt the most often have the most power / potential to heal.

It is possible he was actively avoiding it. Because, if it was purely about chasing an ideal he could have been drawn to look obsessed with it. Instead he has a sorrowful “I love you so much imma break up with you” face.

Gojo could have been the strength he was seeking if he did indeed want to just eliminate all humans, but he didn’t seek that out because (I theorise) he didn’t want to be outwardly rejected by Gojo.

And thus, he left instead (ugh! you foolish brave coward!) after snapping, and Gojo was left alone to pick up the pieces all by himself in a place haunted with memories of them together.

Just bloody tragic.

And that’s why it was carved into their souls.

In the depths of despair that he was in, could it be that he believed Gojo was better off without him , and in wanting to cradle whatever pride he had left, he sought to build his own temple where he could live in the void of his own making without facing that he had lost everyday?

Gojo could be free to grow and grow and be the strongest and embrace whatever belief system he now held - whether it was borrowed from him or not.

He even goads Gojo into killing him off since there would be meaning to it.

Sigh. Heartbreaking. It wasn’t the best decision. But we know suffering builds character. At least Gege really likes this theme❤️‍🩹.

Why do I believe he yielded though?

Because caring for others comes second nature to Geto. How many times have we seen him make that forlorn face?

Even with the souvenir he requested from Haibara, in the original he phrases it in such a way he implies he isn’t even sure if he’ll see him. “Satoru too; I don’t know if he’ll have some, but I guess, something sweet?” But. He yields to his preference.

There is limited space in his heart, and all he can do is exclude some in order to vehemently love those he can (or deems worthy enough based on his moral system). He didn’t know any other way to exist. Monstrous love. I’m pretty sure someone wrote about it. If I can find it I’ll link it! I call it maternal rage, but it’s a similar concept.

If he had wished to leave without staining Gojo, the absence of a confession of his love at any point also makes sense - like Nanami, he chose his final words carefully - that he hated monkeys (why preface with “no matter what anyone says”) and in a roundabout way, that he djdnt have hate for anyone at the school (can’t he just say he was happiest in those few years?). He wasn’t happy in the world (you can just kill me).

When he saw and felt Gojo’s love - unwavered and unchanged, seeing him having blossomed into someone still so pure - effortlessly righteous, strong, and proud with his army of students who loved each other... did he dare feel absolved? Did he feel like it was worth his defection? Yielded to others? Unable to be selfish? As sad as he was for himself and that his family would be without him and his dream unrealised; Gojo turned out ok.

Suddenly it gave meaning to his perceived sacrifice. It parallels with Toji and seeing Megumi who wasn’t a zenin.

Ah, this makes me mad somehow, but if it helped him pass and have a good death, what can I say? We all need something different at the end of our lives. And it’s important in the Shinto perspective to have a death free of regret in order to live in the space between nowhere/rebirth and earth. I posted about this in another piece too.

And I think that’s also why it was all carved into his body - enough to react to Gojo calling out to him, “Suguru”, despite being inhabited by Kenjaku. And carved into his soul that’s why he waited in the afterlife for Gojo. To be the first to greet him. I want to believe the body and soul are separate. The subconscious may have acted as a bridge between the two, transferring information from the mind / soul into the body.

But of course as a reader we wished it could’ve been a kinder fate for them. But I guess sometimes people have to pay for their sins as well as the sins of others? Life isn’t fair after all…

And arguably, Gojo needed a way to truly sympathise with the weak and how else through loving and losing someone to shape a person’s soul? It was just rather Geto-shaped, as I elaborated on in my other post.

I highly suspect Gojo may have wanted something different - as being born the strongest, he was always going to be the strongest anyway. This came with a burden. Noblesse Oblige. Being the strongest was written into his entire being - mind, body, soul.

And I think this was something they had both respected. I doubt Geto ever thought of himself as a power equal to Gojo, but they had both valued their friendship. Geto was someone who saw Gojo for a person, before the strongest. That’s why when Mimiko and Nanako asked, he was considered thus “my best friend”, and not the latter. Gojo recognised that for what it was, and felt the tender words that showed Care. Consideration. Love.

Gojo may have wanted Geto to lean on him a little. To let himself take the fall. They both didn’t like burdening the other, and after Toji it might just magnified. He wasn’t the type to overthink his role, but wanting to be the strongest (seeing how far he can go) and taking on all the blame was one of the ways Gojo was extremely loving. It was just something he accepted.

I feel like Gojo wanted to be relied upon to do his part; be his best friend, someone he could still love and do the mental and emotional load for him, spoil him a little in return so he could just do his thing as the strongest and train. He needed his other half to help him to do the things he doesn’t like or isn’t good at doing.

I think that as they experienced their bafflingly complementary and reciprocal friendship … before he knew it, all these experiences and emotions shaped him so much that his soul made room for Geto - as the one person who represented fulfilment outside of being the strongest.

Never once did he think he’d lose Geto like he did. He never wanted to be at it alone. Like a lonely army tank whose comrades had left him on the battefield to fight it out on his own.

Ugh, it hurts so bad. He didn’t think Geto was slipping down. Maybe because it wasn’t something he could understand- even more so after the enlightenment incident where a chasm emerged between him and others. Maybe nobody was ever important enough for him to worry or miss if they left.

He nevertheless never deserved to be met with such loneliness and misfortune. He carried the weight of it all, all by himself. I know they both did in their own way, but there is some tragedy to Gojo where he probably wanted or could have had more to fill his life and soul but there was always a chasm or a void that could not be filled because he could not feel understood by anyone since Geto.

How awful it must feel to have to kill someone you treasure.

We have no idea without much insight into his life growing up. Nevertheless, Gojo consistently shielded those he cares about from self-blame even from the beginning where he must’ve known Geto had such inclinations to be stuck in his own head and he tried his best to absolve it and take it upon himself. The priorities of those he cared about became his, provided if he could do it. He protected the students and made light of situations so they could experience their youth. Something he can remember treasuring well into his adult life. His blue spring / best years of his life were deeply etched into his subconscious and soul. It was what he wanted to give his students and reason for reforming the jujutsu world.

But being shielded at that time wasn’t enough for Geto who was experiencing the worst spiral in his life yet. He needed to feel the weight of his responsibility had meaning and a role. In his trauma, grief and denial, he shatters and reaches a point from which he cannot return. He also knows how Gojo defines the weak - tiresome, “lower”, etc. and that could have been another factor that led to his avoidance of him.

I want to really emphasise how I don’t blame any of them. They are not inherently responsible for the other. Arguably, Gojo needed to learn about that pain in order to know what love is. And Geto needed to realise how flawed and unloving his path actually was.

If only they could’ve both had a compassionate mentor who guided them onto the Teacher AU path 😭

In the absence of such a connection etched into his soul, what might Gojo have become? Another Sukuna? I theorised that Geto helped Gojo connect with those “beneath” him in a recent post. I’m not going to repeat that here, but it makes a lot of sense to me that Gojo learned a lot about love through Geto and his own hard work following the numerous hardships he faced as the loneliest strongest of the modern era.

He faced so much in his short life. Being blessed with the six eyes and limitless was a curse in itself. He spent years paying the price for losing his friend, and even had to kill him. How profoundly tragic. He faced loneliness and criticism for finding joy in the only thing that he practically had: jujutsu (yes that kept him one-dimensional, but similar to MeiMei chasing money and several others pursuing strength alone) it was a hefty price to pay. But he was a sorcerer. After all, the only thing he really wanted was to treasure his blue spring and the person associated with it - Geto.

It is poetic that when Gojo died, his soul found its counterpart. He opened his eyes to the person whose presence had etched itself so deeply that he knew Geto in body, mind, soul. Geto was there to greet him with a heartfelt smile (and pout!).

One meeting him at the point of death, and the other, upon death.

Their exchange is really reciprocal here too, with Geto admitting he was envious and Gojo responding in a way where he implies reassurance akin to “I needed you there”. Link to a post on this:

Geto’s little tear in his eye in not one, but two panels as well.

Anyway… then appearing at the airport reminds me of their exchange many years ago “you’re late Suguru - no you’re early.” And “you’re late, Satoru.”

Well, they’re on time now... better not be late for your flight, kids.

And as Kenjaku said to Gojo before sealing him - 「新しい世界でまた会おう」

“let’s meet again in the new world.”

—————————

Sorry, it’s a whopper from me again.

Just some words in an attempt to close this off:

For someone whose emotions guided and drove his rationale, it was ironic how Geto’s body became a puppet for someone like Kenjaku, who was so cerebral (devoid of empathy) befitting of his curse technique to brain-hop. It fits with the jjk theme of being strong in the absence of love, I guess?

Seems fitting that Kenjaku was bested after slipping up when having that good of a time with Takaba. Ironic isn’t it? All those years scheming, only to lose himself for a moment as he indulged in something novel, and he lost to a scheme himself.

And to be killed by Gojo v3.0 (Yuta) who already defeated him once, also as foreshadowed by Gojo before being sealed, on the date he scheduled 24th November.

The parallels don’t end there either, where somehow mahito who stood beside Kenjaku was created to parallel Gojo in some way too (I haven’t quite pondered on this much yet, but I reckon there is something about the thrill in growing exponentially / fighting sense that they share - it might just be that alone or possibly also the juxtaposition of one being human and one a curse? Their reasons for seeking strength?

I dunno - i gather Yuji who also developed exponentially fast and as an anomaly himself may have similarities. And again, as ch 257 leaked, it makes sense and I look forward to finding out what’ll happen to them (seeing as Yuji is kind of sukuna’s son 🤯 if the jjk world considers twin souls to be one soul - papa Yuji is Sukuna’s twin after all) and also Megumi of course.

Just going to wrap up here now, and please feel free to link me up to a post that can enlighten me or drop a comment with any thoughts?

Sorry for a rambling post. I hope it made sense.

For real, real. Thanks for reading my brainrot ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[vanillashay]

-- About Me --

Hiii!! I just wanted to make this since I just started my account! This is going to be my little journal about my experiences since I have to keep my religion a secret.. sorry about the spam 😭🙏

-- basic info --

I go by Lia, and use she/her/hers pronouns.

- 18 years old.

- aquarius

- INFJ-T

- I'm half Puerto Rican & white !

- currently a college film student !

- I have anxiety & I'm not the best with social cues!! So please understand if I respond oddly 🙏😭

- I have worshipped Greek / Norse deities on and off for a year.. struggled with religious guilty for a while. However, I feel more free from said guilt. I won't say I am completely free as Christianity has been drilled into my brain from a very young age.

- started out with Aphrodite late 2023.. took a break.. then began to worship Loki & Freyja in February 2024 on & off. Again guilt. However, I will say I was unable to do much research due to fear & lack of ability to do so (school stuff). So I won't say that those are good examples of experience.

- however, I felt Apollo calling to me (no not TikTok fyp), so it has drawn me to FINALLY truly allow myself to dive within the religion that I have felt super drawn to.. bear with me, it still feels incredibly new and fresh.

~~ random fun facts ~~

- I am a super nerd. Like I LOVE marvel, comic books, anime, manga, kpop, etc..

- I collect Funko pops! Yay I'm super broke!

- my favorite marvel characters is Loki & Wanda (ironic I know)

- I'm a major 'The Simpsons' fan! My favorite character is Lisa & Krusty the clown.

- I actually make edits on TikTok! Mainly marvel stuff!

- I play video games (fortnite, sims 4, etc) quite often, so if you have recommendations in relation to the deities, lmk!!

- ironically enough, growing up Greek mythology & the Hercules Disney movie was everything for me. I was OBSESSED. Pegasus & Meg were my favorite characters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I need some friends who are also within this religion, so pleaseeee dm me if you're around my age!! I'd love to chat!

(? I'm not sure if that's how this app works.. I'm still new. sorry 😭).

[aka-trashrat]

It's so sad that the books had so little content about Kom'rk, Prudii and A'den. What's your take on them, could you share some headcanons?

Right?? I wish there was a bit more on them, but like so many characters with little interaction, we can glean some info from the canon and extrapolate from there.

Bear in mind that my headcanons (below the cut) are my interpretation and they're subject to change at any given moment if someone has a better idea! I'm always rotating these boys in my brain like rotisserie chickens.

Kom'rk

he's an insufferable asshole 80% of the time

and yet somehow he comes out quite charming when he wants to be

not terribly chatty by default, preferring to let his marks do the work for him

but he does a good job of taking subtle command of conversations and getting them moving in directions that suit his needs.

Physically, I like the idea of him growing his hair out a bit while in the field with Jaing, but I doubt it's accurate given Kal's weird obsession with Boys Must Have Short Hair that was probably drilled into him from a very young age.

I still give him longer hair because fuck you Kal Skirata

I've assigned him black and navy (and red accents??) as his Mando Beskar'gam colours

I think that in a sniper/spotter team, Kom'rk would be the spotter and Jaing would be the sniper

Oh!! He's really calm under pressure. Very hard to crack!

A social chameleon but on the opposite end of Mereel's style. He prefers to wait and see while Mereel seems to be more about poking the bear to see what it will do.

Prudii

He's apparently a glib cynic, but I see him as more of a realist with a dark sense of humor

He's got a bit of the gallows humor going on, but that's an expected coping mechanism for... well, his whole life

Working alone makes him a bit weird and reintegrating socially is definitely an interesting experience

He pairs nicely with A'den, with how casual they are about rank and all that shit

I dunno, I just think he's neat and I'm still getting to know him

A'den

The most dateable Null ARC

Legit, he's so normal (for a Null ARC) and has a wicked sense of humor (dark gallows humor like everyone else in their situation)

Has a red hot temper but he keeps a good lid on it (this is canon)

Sharp tongue, quick wit, can and will murder you with words

Looks good in coveralls

Sneaky stealthy man (I mean, they all are)

He might actually enjoy homesteading or bushcrafting if given the opportunity after the war

Whiiiiiich is making me think of Beekeeper!A'den which is adorable lol

Give him a little hobby farm and he'd be good as gold.... definitely not thinking of a postwar AU where he does just that

A mystery man rolls into town and puts down roots, says he's Nobody Special and has a vegetable garden and some nuna and some honeybees and a significant arsenal of weapons stashed all over the farm. It's ok though cuz he's a good neighbour who helps out when a tractor breaks down or whatever. (and he operates a Rebellion numbers station but shhhh, he's a good man)

I think something's awakened in me.......

[asonthis]

error in hell

isn't it fun how the world works?

a coke fizzling in a glass, a person getting assaulted, a child taking his first steps, someone dying... I get tired of keeping track, who would've thought that over powering my brain would result in me wanting to purge it all out of my system. I grew tired of thinking of the right thing to say, I am what I am and what I think, I am exhausted of caring and commenting, I want to stop, letting info in and let it escape. I shall receive nothing and give nothing for the world does not care or need my input. What is a confession worth if people don't want or need the truth? -Nothing. I am a wall, written all over, scratched, bitten, drilled in.

if I don't feel bad for my suffering, who ,must?

I am an old house, fully grown children inside me, I am falling apart at their feet while they use my last standing legs. I am a broken mirror, trying to piece myself together when the hurricane hits the reflections inside me. I am old, I am too young, I am all the uncomfortable ages in between. I'm what puberty is for the youngster, I am but a figment of their imagination, I am nothing without their memories of me. I am history and a myth at the same time.

[ahopelessromanticwriter]

i have another mb list

note: adam is the drill director, cole is the music director, jon is the pt instructer, carly is drum major :)

theres lots of swearing, sex jokes and crude humor, read at your on risk.

//

"ref femington" "f remington?"

"do u think mr gessel is here" "mr gaslight??"

"carly ur killing it as drum slayjer"

"onest"

"i come from a drum major growing farm" "did you grow on a tree" "i did"

"i am going to get humoungus shoulder bones"

"why are tou fingering my trumpet"

"do what i say not as i mean" "waot no"

"brain brain brain brain says yes i can okay"

*cries in reed wall*

"i got a dimple bc i got hit by a truck"

"blessinfs of the flying spagetri monster"

"do the rhing"

"nate was like i talked to Micheal after we stopped being friends bc he didnt choose jazz"

"dick and balls"-mason

"it looks like a jail"

"by the double doors-" "dumbledore??"

"where the fuck did my phon-" "WOAH THERE." "on the stage?" "watch ur fuxking mouth"

"grant cant be rushing the trumpets to the field while toris takin a smoke break"

"colby does my music inside my bell look sexy" "hot"

"kachow?" "KACHIGGA"

"was bernie sanders in dci"

"do as i mean not as i say"

"if you summon a demon you must make thrm a sandwich" "im wanna be a demon so people make me sandwiches"

"EAT FOOD OR I WILL SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT ANYWAYS"

*metranome noises*

/uh/ "tqkes me back" "wHAT" "STORYTIME?!"

"in the beginning, there was cole lobdell"

"are we not allowed to have fun" "AbsoLuT lY nOt"

*nods to george laying dead on the ground* "he does that a lot, doesnt he?" *nods*

"mellos stop showing off"

"stab wm like oj" "alledegy"

"are you dancing to the abulance siren-"

"you guys are starting to sound like a decent mb" "YEAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

*look9ng at uneven lines* "those lines are straighter then me"

"was that dupposed to be british sxottish or Australian?" "good question"

"theyre both boring" "exCusE mE dId yOu jUst dIreSpEct oUr nAtIonAl aNtHem"

"we need to slay harder" ".. yes that"

"why do drugs when sprinkles"

"i hope that you achieve your wildest dreams neighbor"

"jon is mean sometimes neighbor" "jon is really a terrible person neighbkr"

"ill venmo you my soul"

*cries in hardware store*

"i want to kiss a woman" /whispering/ "yea"

"you cant be late if adam isnt out here before you are" "that is a correct statement"

"aAron" "what" "shut up" "no i will die on thr british hill"

"oh blimey its adam"

"oh poppycock its the razzers"

"wer we gonna slat the whole way" "mercilessly slaighter"

"slay target queen adam" "target princess"

"forkcus- oo forkus- FOCUS"

"/chucks shoes across the field to show a better demo/"

"you better slay bitches"

"can we talk for a minute abt the strange journey of the word dope-"

"we should build a wall and make jazz 1 pay for it"

"im gonna need an algebraic expression for ur straightness"

"the queen is being reincarnated as trisha payatas kid"

"i am sorry for bringing the vibe down"

"#slaying"

"wait yOU ARENT STRAIGHT?"

"is that gonna be a slack channel-"

"bring the beat in" "ANYTHING FOR YOU BEYONCÉ"

"we are taking the hypetrain to slaytown"

"phillip the metranome boi"

/addy with a sousa/ "colby do you think it fits me?" *aggressively shakes head no*

*aggressively yell counts* "how do you guys FEEL"

"do you like men or do you like women" "yes. /silence/ wAIT-"

"#do not drag #slay #swag"

"im sure its important info but youre hearing THE SOURCE"

"im sorry i neglected you" "remember when cole neglected us? pfft. loser."

"shes giving dead but shell alwats serve; june, probably"

"and without further adue the hmb present the national anthem" "from memory" "from memory" "with skyrim"

/skyrim ambiance/

"that is not a joke it is just straight facts"

"did you feel good abt listening to us ballade"

"im not even white lying" "are you saying youve done that before"

"see if we shame them enough shame becomes fear"

"cheese grater 2.0!"

"mom alex is being kinky"

"you are only half a woman"

"see so i have a kink for men and /blank/ has a kink for women" "it cancels out"

"see so i dont like children and i dont like sex so no more sex no more sex no more sex"

"i want to get mentally better so men can hit on me so i can get mentallt better"

"i dOnT hAvE thEm dAnG proNounS iM an AmerIcAn"

"i forgor my pronouns"

"ladies lads and non binary chads"

"oh by the way /blank/ im sexist now" "nice"

"hi im sexost" "gello felloe sexist"

"sarah i dont think ive ever heard you say smth as relatable as "im going to eat smth flr my mental health""

"a wood made of reed" /couple seconds/ "wAIT-"

"just march brass and then youll never have that problem" "respectfully no."

"not to be political or anything but honosexual... is kinda gay" "woah"

"activate yoyr slat switch"

"trumpets" /dramatic pause/ dayummmmm"

"colby do you agree that john loves balls"

"if i see another person climb a fence i will be a very sad boi"

"learning the rest of the salad'

"loop doop doopity loop doop"

"well /pause/ if the sparkplug fits"

"colby did you like my trill" "i was not... mentally prepared for it"

"wait no it was a del taco" "fre sha vac a do"

"i am not touchin yalls sweaty ass hands'

"/takes addys hand/ /knees down/ "queen? /gasp/ /sniffle/ i do" /arron plays the beginnings of careless whisper/

/in the middle of a rep/ "FUCK"

"what the absolute fuck is that every time i look over here you two are doing whatever thr goddamn fuck that is what even-"

"so like vocal ideA: snares sing the first verse of i am a gummy bear. like i think its actually a really good idea"

"that was very intimate" "uH *confused straight noises*"

"sarahs just laughing at us"

"like cockwork" "tee hee"

"aldom"

"remy!" "yea?" "you have been promoted to stick boi"

"me when split squat"

"START AT T OKAY ONE TWO SPILL THR TEA"

"tue ghost of george was playing a beat early"

"tenors one of yoy is coming in early" "YEAH GEORGE" /george is not there/

"adam hancock is draco malfoy" "POTTAH-"

"I LOVE FB" "MEN" "I LOVE MEN" "T E S T O S T E R O N E "

/dutdut dah daht/ "sports"

"they locked us out of the school :("

*plays careless whisper really loud and scream sings half of the lyrics over loud band noises*

*spontaneously plays half of 7 nation army with only bass line as an entire band*

"sorry me and cole have like 0 brain cells combined-"

"nobody leaves until weve falcon prided"

"ate my grandma ans call my daddy oat lawd"

"i beg of thee to pls unlock thy band room door"

"guys omg were still winning"

"prep step on god"

"imagine flirting with the drumline" "imagine not flirting with the drum line"

"bloody stumps on the yard line"

"you ever just look at drum line and are like w o a h" "are you calling me sexy" "i mean-" "I MEAN-C

"thanks queen" /over speaker/ "hashtag slay"

"yo team that was hashtag slay"

"are they really homies if you dont kiss rgem goodnight"

"band ten slay"

"if you do that i will be sad boi hours"

"see im supposed to give all my organs to carly but you can have my balls"

"shhhh i like phillips legs"

"where did stick boi go he forgor his stic"

"not only will i go against your wishes i will go thr complete opposite direction"

"talk less!" "...smile more" "dont let them know ehat your against or what your for?" "you cant be serious" "you wanna get ahead?" "yea" "fools who run their mouthes off wind up dead" "STOP QUOTING HAMILTON"

"if you dont stop i will slay you with a spear"

"I A M F I R S T" /but said like i am spartus/

"jesus christ-" "you called?"

"i have a social life during marching band"

/gasp/ "adam!" /gasp/ "aADAM"

"mw when fruity"

"bro im goung on the second bus"

"WAIT IS YOUR VOCAL BAD ROMANCE WAIT"

"adams head just swung open and out popped out colby thr drum major so no he did not grow on a tree"

"oh dear the contible you must find yourself a place to hide"

"you blew my wig off"

"i need a will to live" "same i think theyre 23 cents at 7/11"

"ngl i didnt see that correctly and i thought colby and jon were holsing hands"

"its like a bunch of bb birds" ..kinda gross lowkey"

"you can decline but idk why you would liek honestly get ur life together"

"hey bandits c:"

"its a conga line" "but like an intimate conga line"

"jack you look- .. i was gonn say hot but im nkt sure if thatd allowed"

*sad band hours*

"yo that was cRISPY"

"a little curvy is okay" "a little,,, fruity,,, if you will "

"guys their show is twitter" "that is an interesting show name"

"YO THEY MADE A TRIANGLE I LOVE TRIANGLES" "personally i like potatoes"

"i think we should have a band get to tegther where tougrt kicked out if you dont make xomments on everything"

"guys at the end of the show you should light me on fire" "like in a cute way"

"I REQUIRE MEN"

"cole do you feel at home in the choas kf marching band" "yea 😌"

"you ever just throw a colby in ur carly"

"ill be the colby to your carly"

"drunk driving best driving'

"work harder, not smarter"

"sax section vocab section"

"sax section smoking section" "sax section SOBER SECTION"

"gay eighth notes"

"sax section consenual sex section"

"mr lobdell do you want to babysit adams kids"

"cwrly whar are you doung to natilias hands" "shes gently caressing them"

"have them make it into a jif and send it to you" "its gif" "i will fight you"

"I am first" "i will slay you with a spear"

"thr whole band is in a polygamous relationship"

"-my man tights-"

"we should go back to confederacy and the whole bus goes WOAHHHGG-"

/walks up/ "perry the platypus is a slut" /walks away/

/during a band performance/ /several peopl/ "CIRCLE DRILL???"

"bro look at those sexy feet theyre so in time"

"yo why is the sun on dark mode"

"i got shaken baby sydrom for real"

"i strongly suggest that all of you go sit in thr bus snd take a nap"

"that was a certified my bad"

"sup baby gender"

"top of the toe"

"when i grow up i wanna have a kid and name him georg" "name him what"

"bro you just got tondID"

"badasslesauce"

"heres an idea: bring edibles" "W O A H T H E E R E "

"cosmic brownies are crack cocoaine"

"anything for the good of the order?" "slay" "actually slaying is against the law"

"when she puts the 7th over the 5th uts just really heartwrenching, it is"

"two dollars for any coffee at mcdonalds were gonna get liIiiIiiTtt"

"girl is he rich thats the real question men objectify us so we should o jectify them"

"slay bitch"

"miss slayness-"

"bro i slayed in 78 better then anyone slayed in 84"

"flip phone is the new asians"

"we should kiss" /silence/ "no response?"

"she made fun of dom- which is respectable but-"

"i think i would understand you better if you were speaking spanish" "you would understand me if i was a lesbian"

"stab it like ceaser" "allegedly"

"adam can we go fraterinize with the other tubas"

"DO IT AND ILL LEAK THE OLD SPICE"

"sex more like cringe stay virgin boys"

"do you like meaty balls" "OH YEAH"

"SHUT UP GIANNA NO ONE ASKED YOU"

"you look like kurt coban if kurt coban was logan"

"its cold but its like crisp.... newbury"

"i just sucked up all of laurens diseases- do you have aids?"

"yo wheres the candy id like to accept candy from strangers"

"im gonna go home and- make out with my mom"

"SARAH SHUT YOUR BALLS"

"sax section jiggity section"

"noah for person"

"so we like draft people for mb-"

"step one: kindly ask them to stop. step two: curse at them. step three-" "hold on can we go back to step 2 i like step 2-"

"mason how do you like your men" "logan" /blows kiss/

"im cold" "hi cold im logan"

"and you all slay with logan"

"ash stop gently caressing me with a leaf"

"now you have a little leaf hat :D" -tori

"what does period blood taste like like would it taste different"

"saxes!!!!! sexiessss!!"

"sax section make out section"

"sax section sex saxtion"

"STICK BOI WHERE ARE OUR STICKS"

"i got out cuz i wanted to kiss grant"

"we should go get milk ans then we should go to lexs house and make out"

"im sorry i spaced out and heard sneaking out and doung drugs"

"no mom i swear im not sneaking out and doing drugs im going to a jazz festival"

"if that does not work, Joshua quintana's feet would be a suitable replacement"

"sax section toris section"

"max" "doo do do doo do doooo" "jUsT sAY hERe"

"what was discontinued?" "ur mom" "OOOOHHHHHHH"

"when you tell someone ur having a baby ur badically telling them IM HAVINF SWX EVERY DAY" "im sorry what"

"what are yoy high on" "ur mom" "you look like someone whod be high on their mom"

"sax section sleepover section"

"sax section geocash section"

"idk maybe i have foodborne illness disease on my hands" "that sentence made 0 sense"

"color gaurd obama be like lemme be gear"

"attendence obama: let ne be here'

"gay obama: let me be queer"

"DATE MICHELLE OBAMA"

"ur literally just making out with her leg"

"sax section cuddle section"

"bAcK in My dAy we dIdNit nOne oF thEm daGnAb PrnoUns"

"up two boogaloo-"

"ill give you both 5 bucks if you kiss rn"

"we might not be thr bret band vut we will always be the most radioactive band"

"yknow with all the singing you guys do during marching band youd think youd be better at it-"

"love at first kiss"

"mr lobdell really said i support the gays"

"have you seen logan shirtless hes a mermaid"

"what is up my original gangster"

"jesus was homosexual"

"the hdmi is powered by love"

"check that you are connected to the correct wifi w t f mates"

"hes a google fanboi"

"POW right in the kisser"

[annadelveys]

One particular info graphic actually changed my life and its the general one about how to email / what to say in a professional setting. Mainly to stop apologising, unless you actually fuck up badly. Thank you for your patience / thank you for catching that / I appreciate you letting me know. No more "if you ha time" "could you consider" etc. Literally you need to drill this in your brain and edit your emails accordingly I promise the results will be worth it.

[abbinurmel]

You know something, part of my brain really wants to scream and cry whenever I see one of these guys. And that unfortunate "kill it with fire!" reflex, is idiotic, because most such creatures can't possibly hurt you, they're good for the world ecosystems and either way one should not indiscriminately wanna kill ANY sentient thing, bla bla bla, the whole usual drill.....:

- and y'know something?? I can have both these views in equal amount, and be GLAD of them co-existing in me, because, irrational to the developed modern world a phobia it may be, I DO believe these phobias on some primal level exist for a reason... or at least a reason that over generations of evolution is now rendered entirely obsolete. I DO believe we knew once that creatures of this nature, if not specifically this species, something buggy and leggy LIKE this vinegaroon aesthetically, COULD hurt us in the wild, like a scorpion's stinger or a tarantula bite or a wasp nest getting stepped on. Nature's not supposed to be comfortable and cute and convenient for anybody!- it's SUPPOSED to make us react with adrenaline and wariness, it just is doing what it needs to survive, and that makes it both beautiful and dangerous. Our collective stupid monkey brains just apply now that once ancient only somewhat needed fear, over EVERY scenario touching nature, and the unfamiliar alienating prejudice only increases the more detached from the environment we are.

What I am TRYING in a nutshell to say is, DO NOT KILL IT with fire!!! Even though it's correct that some part of you does! Bugs are frightening and they are supposed to be, and it is cool they even exist, and it is COOL THAT YOU FEEL ANY FEAR at anything this small and preciously fragile AT ALL....these things are exotic Kaiju nightmare gods to their prey, and to us we should treat them like the godlike tiny hideous dangerous beauties they are, while using that fear to appreciate, not denunciate, like in an eldritch or fey sorta way...it is a miracle that you are surrounded by the diverse natural chaos of Life!.....We as humans NEED mystery and things out there that are super gross and bizarre and ugly and can kill us,! We NEED things like that, to inspire us, to motivate us to be safe, and keep distance from nature so we DO NOT HARM it by coming into contact with it. We are supposed to wanna leave Nature alone because we are truly the most dangerous!

While I know I will probably never grow into a person who wants to end up with a vinegaroon crawling one night in their bed, I CAN be GRATEFUL I get to live in a world where such an event is even A POSSIBILITY I GET TO HAVE. IT IS COOL that I get to be surrounded by thousands of unique and often unsettling unpredictable and mostly innocent creatures, only a very very few could actually harm me, and I appreciate whatever God or mysterious forces of Destiny that arranged for me to get the privilege to co-exist among them all/be able to live in a time where I can be allowed to have and savor these fears, I am not delusional, but I am also going to be someone who has the gift to SAFELY LEARN ACCURATE INFORMATION ABOUT THE WHOLE NATURAL WORLD, ANY TIME I WANT!

Like do you guys understand how special this is for us???

Centuries ago if you had a fear of something, some weird new dangerous animal shows up and it makes trouble, or it just LOOKS dangerous and scary, what can you really do about it outside either 'fuck around and find out' or 'shun it in terrified superstition, just to play it safe on the off chance its nasty?' You didn't get often libraries, or tomes with really truly well sourced info, you could never have photo proof or video documented footage or wikis with updates with each new discovery. Not even the concept of a SCIENTIST, or a basic unbiased nature researcher in of itself was really a true thing for eons until human civilization started getting truly handle on its own thing. Shamans and foragers you can argue may have been the earliest examples of such, but you still at end of the day would only be able to rely on HEARSAY of your local tribe leaders, and not every tribe elder had his or her information straight or every iota of experience one can glean from the wild. You only had whatever limited window of knowledge your forefathers chose to pass to you, and whatever subjective personal bias or unique experiences you savored each trek you randomly took thru the woods.

I think it's fabulous I can live in a world where I can (hopefully) never have to physically come up in person with a vinegaroon or something BUT I somehow unpredictably *COULD*, like a faery or a bump in with a tiny goblin or a witch. Will they be a kind-hearted and misunderstood sorta witch, or the type who wanna eat you? Who knows! That's what makes it interesting! And best of all I SAFELY AM STILL ALLOWED TO SEE AND DISCOVER THEM AT A DISTANCE!❤️❤️❤️

AND I AM SOOOO APPRECIATIVE we are growing into a world that loves and understands them and other 'ugly' underappreciated critters like these better. It is so lame having these phobias as an excuse to just ignorant blind yourself to kindness or knowledge, when instead, that phobia is supposed to be A DNA ENGRAVED BADGE OF *RESPECT* PASSED DOWN FROM YOUR ANCESTORS.

Tremble and respect yon leggy twitchy assholes.

Stella really is one of the most perfect Creatures ever I think. few can Creature as well as she

[anaesthesia-why]

so I have to retake a test. It's a nightmare to prepare for it. I couldn't prepare for it the first time around thanks to my health failing me but the "if you don't comr on this date good luck retaking it bc when will it be again" and I failed obviously. Now I'm trying to prepare for it again, it's tomorrow morning, and I'm looking at the list of DISORGANISED QUESTIONS. Like they are literally shuffled around. Not linear almost at all. And the worst part is we have to literally learn a lot of big fucking formulas. It's not one of the subjects where you can use your written notes. Just simple drilling into your brain and some geometry that my brain refuses to understand (I love geometry but I am hating this particular subject yeah nuance). I hate this shit. I'm majoring in optical electronic engineering but this part of the subject isn't about optics. It's about gear trains and such. All this mechanical stuff I thought I wouldn't have to learn. Well I'm aware optical devices often have moving parts, but we're doing something unrelated to it this semester. Idk it seems out of place, maybe I'll change my opinion but I think it could be included when it's needed and not lay the foundation that gets forgotten and then we return to it. Whoa geometrical parameters of cylindrical gears. Idk maybe we should just have engineers specialising in that that we can collaborate with? Or is one single engineer supposed to engineer everything. If I remember right division of labour drives efficiency, no? Like yeah we should know optics (and electronics) broadly but. Sorry there should be more engineers specialising in miniature mechanical stuff for hybrid mechanical electronic devices. Seems like it's unpopular rn as the profs are almost all old people. Idk we should rightfully hail the specialisation and get more people into it. Bc I think it slows us optics down if we have to learn all this. I'm not saying we shouldn't learn this at all. But the way the gears are cut and how to calculate what parameters we need should be better wrapped.

(I wanted to add a picture of hard to understand formulas and geometry but not anymore)

And then we wonder why the quality of technology declines when the only people taught thi stuff get it taught with a lot of other things that push this out of memory and not people who could be in a super niche profession on one hand but pretty needed on the other hand and actually know their thing. Like a lot of their jobs will consist of organizing this info and passing it down but they will be engineering these mechanical parts in collaboration with people specialising in other areas and everyone gets a normal workload instead of something incomprehensible.

[spacebar2]

I spent majority of last night watching Godzilla then hopping on VR chat and ranting about an entire space world I came up with, much to a poor random man's surprise. What I do sometimes is create these odd narratives and just keep going with it, I just go deeper into the bit. It was very fun and I think I melted his brain a bit lol!!

What it was about is planets were countries, for example earth country. Every moon in our solar system is part of moon country, the asteroid belt is asteroid country and so on and so forth. I was also an international spy looking for info, I ask the dude and he spouts some recent minor drama that happened a minute or two ago. Not useful for the mission but info nonetheless. I thank him and began my life story. Now I had just moved out of moon country, being sick of the horrible food there and lack of money to be made, all they had was iceberg lettuce and I hate iceberg lettuce. Terrible.

I then moved to asteroid country, looking for something new but realized if you have a big asteroid, you have to share. I ended up sharing with three other people. The first two were decent, didn't bother me unless we ran into each other but the third guy was the problem. Every night I heard screams and was scared he killed the other two guys because I stopped seeing them leave their crators. Eventually I had enough and moved out. Plus, everyone was either so distant or far too close for comfort so I already wasn't happy with my location.

I decided to pop back down to moon country, visiting one of earth countries moons. I saw my old friend, Alberto running a burger stand like always. I actually don't remember his name because I'm too afraid to ask at this point, so I just call him Alberto in my head. Some how he made the only good food in moon country, which was crazy because everything sucks there. He told me about Pluto country, and how he knows a fishing spot that could make billions. All he needs is my help. I ask them why, he says the fish there taste incredible and that he uses them in his burgers. Fish burgers. REVOLUTIONARY. I was astounded, no wonder the burgers were good here. Together, we moved to Pluto country, ready to make big bucks. I still don't know his real name.

We get to Pluto, drill through the ice and get to work, making billions because no one thought to go to Pluto for fish. Sure there's other places, like the moon, but those places just couldn't compare to the supple and succulent taste of Pluto fish. I left my spy persona behind, become a fish lord of Pluto.

Then I sorta began to chat to the random guy about space facts. I told him about the sun's corna, which is kind of like it's atmosphere, as well as other stuff but by then I was out of steam and needed to snooze. I bid him ado and went snoozing because I had an exam tomorrow.