#this scene literally so very unhinged of her

[demigod-of-the-agni]

behold: the rgb siblings but they got hit by the devil may cry beam

thoughts below

UGLY ass drawing we've got here ewwww

anyway no i just thought it was really funny. i was thinking about nokt and rox, and remembered how they were supposed to parallel kai and nya, so i thought "oh what about an au where rox possessed nya" and then i thought about dmc and then looked at the dr/s3 suits (i call them the "metal tits out" suits) and was like "hmm wait im connecting the dots"

so picture this: an au after the merge. the energy resulting from it weakens the netherspace's boundaries for just a moment, and while the forbidden five don't all escape, rox takes that opportunity to soul jump into the nearest person. that being nya

land of monsters isn't it's own land, it literally just shatters and islands of it get scattered across the new merged realms. so there are pockets of areas that once belonged to the land of monsters, and from their the monsters go exploring. and eating people. idk

kai, being the guy that he is and first waking up in the land of monsters, decides to fight his way and brand himself a mercenary for hunting monsters- he couldn't find all the ninja immediately, but perhaps by making a name for himself, they'll come to him instead

lloyd is. yeah idk, he's doing normal lloyd things. things play out as they did in dr/s1, the only thing is that nya is strangely not present. dr/s2 comes about after lloyd becomes a conduit, and nya starts showing up here and there, never in one space and seemingly like she's hunting something.

fast forward over some plot points that i don't have, and "nya" reveals herself to be rox, who has been working behind the scenes to try and free the remaining forbidden five. she's unhinged, and decides maybe lobbing off lloyd's arm is a good start in amassing enough to power to open a portal to the netherspace. so she steals his arm and disappears again

also a primary conflict between kai and nya is almost the same as dante and vergil... kai braving through the land of monsters trying to keep himself human, nya fighting what is literally an animalistic force trying to break down and use her humanity.... much to think about

um that's it i don't know where i was going with this but it's just very funny 2 me like in no universe would this make sense but that's okay im just a little silly

[lucreziaces]

two things: 1) lucrezia’s sideboob 😉 😏🤤 and 2) cesare just being entirely lost in her magnetic field like look at that soft smile he’s so down bad for her it’s not even funny ☺️🥰😊💖

[timmydraker]

Thinking about Vampire Tim AU and him saving Bruce via turning.

None of the Drakes are actually Vampires, at least not permanently. It was a very strange instance that occurred out of pure chance and coincidence.

A pregnant Janet Drake in a foreign country having a run in with a starving vampire rouge that bite her just a few days before she gave birth.

Instead of the curse spreading to her, the labour of her child pushed and the spreading of lifeform spread to her baby as it was born. The child looked healthy, had no inhuman features, and they assumed her being so sick was simply the fact she was about to give birth.

Tim doesn’t realise what he is for a while purely because his parents are vegan and, until he was seven and had some beef from a classmates lunch, hadn’t had any blood enter his mouth.

Having to teach himself everything, Tim learned to manage both his hunger and abilities as quickly as he could. He studied history and mythos and did several test to figure out the limits to what he needed and could do.

He learnt that he could heal via blood, that he could go without air for days, and that his hearing was normal though his sense of smell was enough to distinguish blood types.

He learn that he could go two weeks without blood before it became a problem, but if he pushed it past three weeks he would start to experience literally decay.

Tim disconcerted his saving grace was that the hunger wasn’t as uncontrollable as people made it out to be in movies and books. At most, it was just like normal human hunger or thirst, and he was aware there was a huge variable in him being raised rather poorly.

He keeps it hidden for years, but then when he’s nineteen Bruce dies.

Not Batman, Bruce.

They got in a car crash of all things, the other drive running after they drove them off the road on the extremely rare instance that Alfred wasn’t driving.

Tim watched the tree branch in his foster father’s chest for several minutes as he thought about his options. Bruce was dead upon impact, gone with only the last wisps of life hanging to him.

Bruce was a father.

Batman was needed.

Even though it would out what he was, Tim forced his several sharp teeth out, all needle sharp and long enough his jaw had to unhinge slightly, and bit into his own wrist. The fangs, an inch long each, dug into his skin painfully before moving to dig into each of Bruce’s wrist and then finally his neck.

Tim smeared the blood into all three wounds and then squeezed as much as he could into Bruce’s mouth.

He had no idea how he knew what to do, trusting the instinct the curse seemed to just… give him.

When Bruce begins to breath again, Clark finally shows up. It’s been a total of eleven minutes and Tim only realises that the other took so long because he had been off planet, yet he is grateful because if he had been there…

Tim instructs Clark on how to cover up the scene, removing the cars and getting Bruce to the cave.

Dick is freaking out, worrying over his brothers ripped clothes and Bruce’s clear injuries, but Tim is quiet.

He takes Bruce’s medical cot and leads them both into a containment cell and then seals it, implementing his own lock as well as one of Bruce’s so no one can open it. He can hear someone banging on the glass a few times but he ignores it to stand over his father’s side and wait for him to wake up.

Naturally, when the older man does he’s panicked and screening Tim’s name.

Tim smiles at him sadly before taking hold of his hand, which Bruce immediately process as wrong.

“Why aren’t I dead?”

Smile growing sadder before fading to an almost formal look, Tim squeezed his hand before pulling away.

“I know you’ve had your suspicions and I thank you for trusting me regardless, but you are right. I’m not human Bruce, and now… you aren’t either.”

He lets the worlds settle for just a moment before continuing, knowing the other will want all the information he can. They’re both so similar in that way.

“I was born a vampire, I will always be a vampire. I will explain that all to you soon, but what you need to know is this: you do not need to drink human blood, you will not loose control over your thirst if you allow me to train you, and yes I had no choice. Gotham needs Batman and I-… I need my father. I will not apologise for my selfishness, but I am sorry you have to be like me.”

Bruce is quiet but he doesn’t move to kick Tim out, nor does he shout at him or cry in betrayal.

He’s surprised, but not more than Tim had ever seen before.

It’s almost an hour of silence between them before Bruce speaks again, “You… you are actually nineteen?”

Tim scoffs and Bruce glares, which makes Tim smile more, “I am. My body will age until around twenty five, at least that’s my hypothesis. If you are turned you stay the age you were, but I was born.”

Bruce nods and after a moment reaches out for his son’s hand.

Another silence before he squeezes it, “Have you told the others about… this change?”

Tim winces, “I tried to keep us separated because I knew you would worry for hurting someone, but I knew Damian would break in if he couldn’t listen so…”

“Ah. Understood.”

Then, in another rare instance that Tim thought he wouldn’t see for at least another few years, Bruce opens his arms to him for a hug.

Naturally, Tim crumbles into his father’s arms and sobs louder than a war drum.

Bruce kisses his head and holds him tight, a vampire embrace.

[aventurineswife]

Hiii! I'm a relatively new reader who has fallen in love with your fics lol, could I request for some crack and funny moments with the astral express crew? (reader is a member of the express btw)

“Welcome Aboard the Disaster Express!”

Summary: Life aboard the Astral Express is full of breathtaking cosmic adventures… and absolute nonsense. As a member of the crew, you’ve long accepted that professionalism is a distant dream, and chaos is the true conductor of this train. Whether it’s March antagonizing Dan Heng, Trailblazer being an unhinged cryptid, or Sunday delivering existential monologues at 9 AM, you’ve learned to just go with the flow. At least it’s never boring.

Tags: Astral Express x Reader, Astral Express Crew Shenanigans, Crack & Humor, Found Family Vibes, Platonic Relationships, Mild Existential Crisis Courtesy (of Sunday), Dan Heng Is So Done, Trailblazer: Chaos Personified, Welt Deserves a Raise, March 7th vs. Dan Heng.

Warnings: Mild swearing, Unhinged behavior from Trailblazer (as expected), Existential rambling from Sunday, Dan Heng contemplating violence (he won’t actually do it… probably), Welt is tired. Just generally.

A/N: Awww thank you!! 🤭💖

The moment you wake up, you already know today is going to be a mess.

For one, Trailblazer is missing. Again. And if past experiences have taught you anything, it’s that their absence usually means trouble.

For two, March is running down the hall at full speed, her camera in one hand and a look of pure chaos in her eyes.

“For the love of Aeons—someone stop them!” Welt’s voice rings out, exasperated yet resigned.

You don’t even get a chance to ask what's happening before March practically tackles you, using your shoulder as a shield while snapping a picture of something—or someone—behind you.

“I got it!” she cheers, pumping a fist in victory.

You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting an eldritch horror, only to find Dan Heng standing there, looking deeply unamused. His spear is in hand, though it’s not aimed at anyone—yet.

“March,” he says in a calm, yet menacing tone, “delete that.”

“Nope,” she chirps.

“March.”

“It’s for science.”

“I will destroy that camera.”

“I have backups,” she grins.

You decide it’s best to take two steps away from the brewing conflict.

Before Dan Heng can contemplate murder, Sunday walks in, radiating his usual composed, otherworldly aura—until he sees the scene before him and sighs. His halo flickers slightly, as if even it is tired.

“Another morning of senseless conflict,” he mutters. “Truly, the cycle of strife knows no end.”

You blink at him. “It’s literally just March annoying Dan Heng again.”

“Yes,” he agrees, “but is this not a reflection of our broader struggles? A reminder that conflict is inherent even in our found families?”

There’s a moment of silence before Trailblazer suddenly emerges from inside a supply cabinet, looking completely unbothered despite the fact that they were very much not supposed to be in there.

“Good morning,” they greet, as if they weren’t just casually hiding in a cupboard like a cryptid.

Welt, who just arrived, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why were you in there?”

“Dunno. Seemed like a good place to take a nap.”

“I—” Welt visibly restrains himself from asking more questions. “You know what? No. I don’t want to know.”

You give Trailblazer a look. “You’re an enigma.”

They smirk. “I try.”

Himeko enters with a steaming cup of coffee, looking far too elegant for someone who has to deal with this daily nonsense. “I see everyone’s already in top form this morning.”

Dan Heng sighs, still eyeing March with suspicion. “If by ‘top form,’ you mean ‘already causing unnecessary chaos,’ then yes.”

Sunday hums, thoughtful. “Perhaps the chaos itself is what keeps us together. Without it, would we still be the same?”

“…No offense,” you say, “but do you ever just say things without making them sound like the intro to an existential crisis?”

Sunday’s eyes glimmer with amusement. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Trailblazer leans over to you. “I think that’s his way of saying no.”

March, still holding her camera hostage, grins. “C’mon, guys, let’s take a group picture! This moment is totally capture-worthy!”

Dan Heng deadpans. “So you can delete photos.”

March winks. “Not happening.”

As Welt sighs, Himeko sips her coffee, Trailblazer plots their next act of mischief, and Sunday ponders the metaphysics of chaos, you realize something:

Maybe the Astral Express is absolute nonsense.

But hey, at least it’s your nonsense.

And that makes all the difference.

[gravity-barbie]

The Hargreeves' reactions to you getting catcalled

A/N: Sorry, I think I accidentally deleted the original request for this, because I could not find it anywhere

Masterlist

Luther Hargreeves

-Luther is shocked and outraged, getting up in the perpetrator’s face immediately, and probably scaring the crap out of them with that stature of his

-As much as he thinks the person deserves a good beating, they’re already pretty much at his mercy so instead he just demands an apology for you

-He’s so soft and considerate to you afterwards, triple checking that you’re okay and questioning if there’s anything else he can do, literally anything

-The incident makes him more protective, he’s always volunteering to accompany you when you go out, and pretty much insists if he thinks the area you’re headed seems shady

Diego Hargreeves

-Diego already hates catcalling but the fact that it’s directed at you just makes him extra pissed, slightly unhinged even, he advances on them while yelling insults, fully ready to get violent

-Even if you want and are able to drag him away, he’s probably already hatching a plan to come back for some vigilante justice later

-He’s pretty heated, but he does recognise that you must feel way worse than him and that he should prioritise your feelings, checking if you’re alright, and even if you brush it off he’s perceptive enough to get a read on how you really feel

-If you’re very upset, despite his anger he gets a hold of himself and turns into the sweetest marshmallow while trying to comfort you

Allison Hargreeves

-Allison tenses up, checking your reaction first and foremost, if you want to ignore it and get out of there she’ll just put a protective hand on you and usher you forward

-But if not, or if the catcaller is being persistent, she is more than willing to confront them and make them regret ever opening their disgusting mouth

-Depending on her relationship with her power at the time she’d be quick to rumour them, probably not physically hurt them (depending on how graphic they were being) but at the very least put the fear of god in them

-She’s had a lot of experience with things like this, so she comforts you with a lot of understanding and empathy, pretty accurately predicting your feelings and needs

Klaus Hargreeves

-Klaus’ policy has always been to brush off stuff like this with a sassy remark and move on, he wishes he was the type of person that could easily defend you but he just isn’t

-He does have the urge to talk shit back to them, even to his own detriment, and if he was alone he might, but you’re here and he’s not going to risk any further trouble for you by causing a scene

-He asks if you’re okay but otherwise tries to change the topic and lighten the atmosphere pretty quickly, he does care of course, he just thinks the best thing he can do is cheer you up

-Maybe later when you’re less shaken he’ll bring it up again, just to see if you’re really okay, let you vent if you need to or see if there’s anything he can do

Five Hargreeves

-Five is caught somewhere between wanting to ignore it and wanting to pull out those assassin skills of his

-It depends on how you react, if you just huff and keep walking he’ll ask if you’re alright but drop it when you do, if you seem shaken up though, there’s no way he’s letting it go

-Internally he’s livid, but he acts more cocky than anything else as he gives them both a physical and verbal beating, finishing it off with a warning that they better not harass anyone again

-He isn’t good at comfort, he’ll never bring this up again if you don’t, but if you do want to talk he’s there for you, trying his best to offer the kindness you need

Viktor Hargreeves

-On pure instinct Viktor confronts them, not before manoeuvring you protectively behind him though

-His exterior is icy, and way more dangerous than this person realises, if they don’t back down he won’t hesitate to pull his powers out to back up his warning, after all he’s had a bad experience with this kind of thing before

-Though if you try to pull him away, for your sake he’ll go, since your comfort and sense of safety is more important than his righteous anger, the fear alone will teach them a lesson anyway

-He’s very sweet and attentive afterwards, and whether you need silence, to vent or to be distracted he's got you covered

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged rant

So what if Mitsuri joined the Demon Slayer Corps to find love?

So did Zenitsu. Nezuko is all he can talk and think about. His first scene is him literally begging a girl to marry him.

Tengen constantly talks about his wives and his love for them. A love so great that it is the main driving force behind ALL of his major life decisions. He left his toxic family because of them, he joined the Corps because of them, he decided to retire and left the Corps because of them. He has stated how they're his main reason for living, and how he considers their wellbeing and importance above his.

Tamayo is Yushiro's entire world, so much so that he's content being absolutely devoted to this woman and her goals, even though he knows that she's still in love with her husband. He's just content with being by her side and supporting her in everything, even if it goes against his best interests.

Obanai literally teleported 3 feet because he got a letter from Mitsuri and proceeds to read it with the ferocity of a lovesick teen who just got a text back. He's shown to be utterly in love with her and cares about her wellbeing and comfort.

The main cause of Giyuu's depression is because Sabito, his first love, died! And one of the things that brings him out of it is the thought of making and giving Sanemi, his new crush, his favorite food.

Yorichii, the strongest character in KnY, just wanted to have a family with the love of his life, Uta. His very first proper introduction has him holding a baby, FOR SUCKS SAKE!! We don't even see his expression because the yearning was that deep! When a character in KnY is framed from the back, you know the emotion is strong.

Genya is always flustered and horny when he's in the same airspace as or even thinks about a girl.

Hakuji not only took care of Koyuki but loved her so much that it permeates through his BDA as Akaza even though his memory was wiped. His soul remembers and honors her even if his mind doesn't.

The main reason Gyutaro hated Uzui was because he's a chad and was getting hoes.

Shinjuro Rengoku had a decade-long crashout because Rika died.

But yea no, let's shit on this ONE female character for the crime of wanting love and a family. Just say you hate women and go.

[corseque]

I wrote an unhinged bullet point list comparing just Solas' last scene to Emet-Selch's last scene and why I think one was more successful than the other, and why maybe playing one after having already played the other didn't do it any favors, and I have nowhere to put it so I'll put it here behind a cut

EXTREME spoilers for FFXIV and DA, because I'm talking about the last scenes these characters appear in their stories.

So why am I comparing these two characters' last scenes in the first place? Well, I think they're very similar, verging on identical scenes, each trying to accomplish about the same things as each other. In both scenes, each of them:

reappears to confront the final antagonist alongside the main character

reconciles with an ancient Mother Goddess who had caused him great pain after being at odds with her for thousands of years

has a final conversation and reconciliation with the main character that he has great affection for and a fraught and turbulent history with

admits that his goals would not have brought them as far as the main character's goals, had his been successful

makes the choice to leave in a fairy tale manner (reunited with a loved one so he’s FINALLY not alone) to go to the land of the dead, which he is lord over

incredibly incredibly beautiful and emotional music written for the character comes back one last time

both have the character moment where they refuse to even consider asking their loved one to go with them into the land of the dead

the things that Solas does in his scene that Emet-Selch does NOT have:

Solas kisses his wife and calls her "vhenan" heartbrokenly

Solas holds Lavellan's hands as they are reunited

the nice love lines to each other

Solas and Lavellan together in the land of dreams forever

Solas CRIES (sob)

Solas wavers in his millennia-long plans and stops fighting for them in a seemingly arbitrary and convenient way

and yet, though Solas' scene has so many outward displays that I should love more than anything, I think Emet-Selch’s scene is better, dare I say it!!! In Emet-Selch’s scene he also

is an extremely comforting presence in a scene that was extremely intimidating and frightening before he appeared (literally he is THE source of light and hope when you are in the depths of the farthest reaches of physical loneliness at the edge of space in the metaphorical blackness of existential despair, so he is a source of strength and help for you, the protagonist, when you thought it was impossible to get help)

Emet casually saves the entire universe and everyone in it, a few times in a row (WoL would have never had the Azem crystal in the first place if it wasn’t for Emet, so he saved the entire universe multiple times over by preserving the crystal for all those millennia and then by answering the crystal's call in just that one scene)

Emet is allowed to proudly and boldly proclaim the theme of the entire hundreds-of-hours story in a way that galvanizes and literally brings life back to every other character and spurs them unwaveringly and unbrokenly into the final climactic action of the entire story

gets a very very long (15 min) conversation where he talks about how he feels!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he gets much longer and more conclusive conversations with everyone than Solas does

It is a scene involving multiple people, but it doesn't feel voyeuristic or make you wish certain characters were not there

the scene tells you more about Emet's characterization as someone who will never ever be straightforwardly sappy and really values being a pillar of stoic strength to others ASDHFASHDFH

he reiterates that he fulfilled his duty and his purpose and that he is no longer consumed with worry about mankind facing the Final Days again, and he fulfilled his duty by passing the responsibility on, which he was hoping to do as the path of lesser tragedy, and he confirmed that he is very happy and got a version (among many possibilities) that was exactly what he wanted, and maybe more happier than he was picturing it would ever be

that emotional gut-punch when you realize Emet doesn’t want to leave WoL with WoL frowning and sad, so he tantalizes them with descriptions of lands they haven’t seen, which is something that would be catnip to Azem/WoL and makes WoL part ways with Emet with a smile on their face

the revelation that EMET BORE AZEM’S CRYSTAL AND SO HE FELT DUTY-BOUND TO DO THEIR TRAVELING AROUND AND COUNSELING DUTIES FOR THEM, AND IT PROBABLY SAVED THE WORLD AND UNIVERSE BECAUSE IT PRIMED EMET TO ALWAYS BE LOOKING AT THE PEOPLE AS PEOPLE COMPARED TO THE OTHER UNSUNDERED SOBBB

truly devastatingly emotional reference to the short story that explains how Emet always smiled when he bids Azem farewell, and he always actually deeply loved bidding Azem farewell when Azem left on a long journey

how Emet’s and Hyth’s ending is actually not sad at all, and we’re literally canonically going to meet them again at the end of our own journey because there’s no way his ass is going to go without us after all that time he waited

Emet does NOT get self-righteously fucking lectured by an idiot about things Emet has thought about for 15,000 years

all the horror and darkness he experienced and all the horror and darkness he caused for all those lifetimes were not pointless - he was able to see his bretheren/Hythlodaeus freed from their trapped tortured existence within Zodiark and he was able to reconcile with Azem’s legacy, all memories restored

Emet-Selch’s character qualities and strengths (and even things about himself that HE considered his weaknesses!) (his deep deep everlasting love, his sentimentality, his dedication, his stubbornness, his memory, his unwavering sense of duty) were ALL absolutely key to saving the entire universe multiple multiple times, the strength of his love and his specific kind of stubborn personality literally saved everyone and everything, and the story is incredibly grateful to him for all the horror and darkness it put him through. The narrative REWARDS him for sticking to his ideals!! The narrative loves him for his strength of will and sense of duty.

He is allowed to stubbornly stick to his convictions!!! Because we love him because he feels so strongly and he is proud of what he fought for for so long.

just a very beautiful final, complex character portrait - “My ideals are inviolate. Invincible.” BEAUTIFUL. BEAUTIFUL. The most beautiful send-off to the most beautiful character.

The difference between them is like... do I want kisses or do I want actual character exploration and a satisfying conclusion to a story with a beginning, middle, and ending?

Comparing them overall, I just get so much condescension from Solas' ending. Because his point of view and his motivations were never actually taken seriously or delved into, he sort of just gives in and agrees that he was wrong and was stupid to have thought his point of view had any merit to begin with.

Meanwhile, we have Emet-Selch, who literally admits "our methods would not have brought us this far" but STALWARTLY insists that it was his duty to fight for his version of the future, to represent that faction and those particular hopes, and he would not change a single thing about how things happened.

Because there was a LARGER threat and a plot that unraveled with an extra layer of complexity, Emet was allowed to be portrayed as a great hero (who would cradle you in the palm of his godlike hand and save the entire universe because his love is just so powerful) and a great antagonist (who would crush you in the palm of his godlike hand and crush your entire world because his love is just so powerful) simultaneously, something that I think they probably did want for Solas but didn't know how to portray nearly as well. Or they sacrificed that potential complexity in exchange for a black-and-white "that's bad and you're bad" protagonist who is always right about everything and never has to confront a situation that is gray.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Gladiator II - Thoughts (SPOILERS)

I was fortunate enough to watch Gladiator II at the Royal Global premiere at Leicester Square last night (Wednesday 13th November) and I NEED to share some thoughts but there are definitely some spoilers, so…

I cannot stress this enough:

THERE ❗️ ARE ❗️ SPOILERS ❗️ BELOW ❗️ THE ❗️ CUT ❗️

Once again

⚠️ DO NOT CLICK THE READ MORE IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS FOR GLADIATOR II ⚠️

There’s probably things I’m missing/forgetting right off the top of my head, and I might be paraphrasing/summarising some dialogue. I definitely need to rewatch it when I’m NOT super close to an IMAX cinema screen because I spent the whole movie with my neck craned backwards and my eyes darting everywhere because I was trying to take it all in.

Anyway, without further ado:

The opening credits were very beautiful, it recounted the plot of the original film but kind of like in the style of the opening credits of Pillars of the Earth? I don’t know if that makes sense ���

If I remember correctly, Joseph is billed third behind Paul and Pedro, and Fred is billed fourth 🥹♥️

The film opens with a huge battle where the Roman army, led by Marcus Acacius, conquering the last free city of Africa (I think?), which is what Lucius and his wife are trying to defend

I cannot for the life of me remember what Lucius’ wife was called but she seemed nice, we only had her for a few minutes though before she got killed 😭

Okay so I’m going to start right off the bat by talking about the Emperors as they were the ones I was most looking forward to seeing, and I want to give them their own section!

We NEED to talk about Fred as Caracalla - this isn’t even me being biased, I’m being as unbiased as I can when I say that he was AMAZING

By the way, for months I’ve seen people talk shit about Fred, complaining about how they wish it was Barry Keoghan, whinging because “we could have had Joe and Barry” - to those people I say, shut the fuck up ☺️ I will NOT tolerate any hate for my boy Fred!

Fred actually had a much meatier part than Joe which was pleasantly surprising. I’m not saying Joe wasn’t unhinged or good, but he was way more sane than Fred’s character and you got the feeling that he was trying to hold their rule together and keep his brother from bringing down the whole empire

Caracalla surprised me because he was so much more softly spoken than I anticipated; in so many scenes he was childlike and almost pitiful to watch. For example, there were times where you could see him pouting or fidgeting like a bored toddler, at one point he essentially threw a tantrum and Geta had to hold him back from killing Acacius and Lucilla (and then in the background you could see him playfully swing the sword about like a child would with a toy) He would grin and get excited like a child whenever there was fighting or bloodshed, bouncing in his seat, he looked surprised and excited in the beginning when Geta handed him wine etc.

In the last coliseum fight scene, this was literally Caracalla getting excited when the fighting started - a literal child 😭

Honestly it was just fascinating to watch Caracalla because you could never tell if he was going to be childlike and almost-innocent or if he was going to start screaming and get violent

So apparently the reason that Caracalla is unhinged is because (to quote Geta) “the disease from his loins has spread to his head” (to paraphrase) which makes me think he’s got syphilis or something.

Also both of the emperors are briefly seen with concubines (as in the trailer), and Caracalla has both male and female ones hanging around him 😭 we love a bisexual Emperor!

Caracalla seems to have memory problems (probably as a result of his STI) because he doesn’t remember seeing Lucius fighting in front of them from just a couple of days ago at their party (the scene with the concubines) and Geta tries to remind him, “it’s the poet” but Caracalla just sits down and says he doesn’t remember

There’s a scene where Marcus and Lucilla are brought to the emperors in the middle of the night after being caught in a conspiracy to overthrow them, and you’ve got Geta in that red robe from the trailer whilst Caracalla is basically just wearing a fucking bedsheet toga style 😭 you know that shot in White Lotus where Fred/Quinn has a duvet around himself? Kind of like that

Contrary to that Letterboxd review calling the twins “BJ brothers”, there is NO incest in this film, and no hint of incest between the twins. I know a screenshot is circulating of Joe in the red robe where you could see what looked like the top/side of Fred’s head as if he’s on his knees, but they were absolutely NOT doing that 💀 the scene shows them both entering the room (Geta in his robe, hastily put on) and Fred in his bedsheet toga thing. I definitely didn’t get the vibe of incest at all, I got the vibe of “it’s the middle of the night and they’ve both been woken up because these two traitors (Marcus and Lucilla) were caught plotting against them”

I love that Caracalla’s weakness is Dondas (or Dundas? Different magazines are using different names so I’m so confused), his pet monkey (WE FUCKING LOVE CHERRY AND SO DOES FRED 😭♥️) Like he’s got Dondas/Dundas wearing a fucking dress and on a little chain lead, eating sweets from a bowl, and I have to applaud Fred for being able to act with a straight face while he had the monkey crawling over his shoulders, touching his hair, and at one point when the monkey moved the chain lead literally went right around/over his face

While there’s riots going on outside the palace, Caracalla is freaking out and has Dondas/Dundas the monkey on his shoulder, and Geta straight up threw wine at both of them before saying that maybe Dondas (or Dundas, whatever the fucking name is) go and calm down in another room 💀

There’s a scene where Macrinus finds Caracalla hiding under a table with the monkey and it made me think they were almost playing hide and seek 😭 truthfully I think he was just under there crying and hiding

It’s the fact that Macrinus was able to manipulate Caracalla into killing Geta by using his love of Dondas/Dundas against him; the people of Rome protest against their emperors, and Macrinus basically tells Caracalla that Geta is going to throw him to the plebs outside to be killed - and Dondas/Dundas. “Think about what they might do to Dondas” (or Dundas) - and that’s what pushes him over the edge.

NOT CARACALLA AND MACRINUS SAWING GETA’S FUCKING HEAD OFF LIKE THAT 😭 IT WAS STRAIGHT UP LIKE A HORROR FILM WITH MACRINUS COMING UP BEHIND CARACALLA AND HELPING?!?

Also Caracalla made the monkey a fucking consul of state (I think) after he killed Geta?!?! 😭 Absolutely fucking UNHINGED I TELL YOU

“ALL HAIL DONDAS! 😃” (or Dundas - again, someone please tell me the fucking monkey’s confirmed name)

They showed Geta’s head for WAY too long 😭 and Macrinus just showing it around like that?!? NASTY

Reeling over the fact they airbrushed out Geta’s head for the trailer because in this shot in the film Geta’s head is clearly visible on the table behind Denzel 💀

Sorry but Fred looked damn fine in that purple outfit near the end 😋

I feel like Caracalla had a little bit of a soft spot for Lucilla but the two sides of his personality were warring with each other: the sadistic bloodthirsty side wanted to murder both her and Marcus right away, but then near the end he whispers to Macrinus “must we kill Lucilla?” and he sounded a little hesitant or unsure which was interesting

Seeing Fred as Caracalla without Geta in that last coliseum battle scene? I can’t help but love him, Fred is seriously too good in this role. The shouting, the childlike excitement when the fighting started (see gif above)

Fred was definitely playing up the childlike side of Caracalla in his last scene when the people started revolting, he was literally curling up in his seat, snivelling and crying like a baby until Macrinus killed him from behind (he put something in his ear, i think he stuck a pin in his ear to impale his brain?) Truly pitiful end for Caracalla.

Once again: Fred Hechinger for Best Supporting Actor at the 97th Academy Awards campaign!! 😊↕️

Okay so now I’ve talked about the Emperors, I can talk about the rest of the film:

Ridley Scott truly said fuck historical accuracy in this film 😭 which is not surprising to be fair if you know him and his movies

This film was, expectedly, VERY bloody and violent from start to finish

NOT LUCIUS TAKING A BITE OUT OF THE BABOON 🤯

At one point where they’re bringing the slaves into Rome, they show statues of a wolf feeding two human children from her teat and Lucius recounts the story - this is obviously a reference to Romulus and Remus, twins raised by a wolf mother. This is actually really fitting because from earth on, Ridley AND Fred and Joe have mentioned the idea of the twins being based on this Romulus/Remus story?

DAMN, Paul Mescal was super beefy in this film like holy fucking shit dude

Honestly I adore Pedro but his role was way smaller than I thought it would be. His role is essentially to be Lucilla’s decent and loyal husband who also happened to lead the invasion that killed Lucius’ wife in the beginning of the film, something he did not want to do, hence why Lucius wants to kill him so badly (family drama, eh? 😭) and who is part of a plot to dethrone the twins

MATT LUCAS AS THE MASTER OF CEREMONIES?!? 😭 I won’t lie, at first it distracted me because I was like “why the fuck is Matt Lucas here” but he got a few laughs out of the cinema screening so his tiny parts added a little bit of humour to the film when it got tense

As I said above, there’s no incest shown - there is a MENTION, however, of a rumour that Lucius’ real father wasn’t Lucius Verus(?) but rather Commodus (obviously Lucilla’s brother/Lucius’ uncle from the first film). However, it’s not true because they make it very clear that Lucius’ father is Maximus. They do however briefly mention that Lucilla was a child bride at the age of 14 which is a bit fucked up

I was probably the only person in my screening who noticed this but at one point I saw graffiti on one of the walls on the outside/entrance to the coliseum that said something like “Irrumbo Imperators” - according to Google, that translates as “I attack the emperors”. However, it could have also been “Irrumabo Imperatores”, and if you ask Google to give you the Latin word for “fuck”? It’s “Irrumabo”. So essentially there was graffiti in the film that either said “attack the emperors” or “fuck the emperors” 💀

I thought that maybe Lucius had somehow forgotten that Lucilla was his mother despite being 12 when she sent him away but nope, he’s fully aware of who he actually is and who his mother is, he’s just angry at her for sending him away and never seeing him again 😭

NOT THAT SERVANT TATTLING ON LUCILLA AND MARCUS?!? 😤

They killed Marcus off WAY earlier than I thought they would by the way. The trailers give the impression that the final battle is Lucius vs Marcus but it’s actually Lucius vs Macrinus which is WILD to me

You know that scene in LOTR where the orcs shoot Boromir full of arrows? That is basically what happened in this film to General Acacius but with about 20 more arrows 💀 I had major Boromir flashbacks watching this scene

I’m glad that Lucilla and Lucius got to reconcile before the ending, given what ended up happening

“Because Emperor Caracalla is generous, he will allow Lucilla to have one Gladiator to fight to defend her” - ONE. ONE AGAINST ABOUT 30 TRAINED GUARDS 💀

I’m still reeling over the fact Derek Jacobi spoiled his own character’s death on the red carpet a mere hour before the film screening in front of THOUSANDS of people 😭 that man did NOT give a fuck quite frankly and I think that’s kind of hilarious of him

THE GASP THAT EVERYONE IN THE SCREENING COLLECTIVELY LET OUT WHEN MACRINUS KILLED LUCILLA BY SHOOTING HER IN THE CHEST?!? HE KILLED CARACALLA AND LUCILLA IN 60 SECONDS FLAT 😭

That said, this shot from the behind the scenes featurette about Ridley Scott is ten times funnier to me after watching the film and realising that not only is Ridley showing Denzel how to shoot the arrow that kills Lucilla, but Fred is also supposed to be dead in the chair at this point since Macrinus takes the bow and fires the arrow straight after killing Caracalla 😭

Poor Lucius has now seen his father, his mother, his uncle and his wife all die right in front of him, the man CANNOT catch a break 😫

That final battle between Lucius and Macrinus was GRUESOME 😳 Lucius cut off his hand and slashed him - I’m not sure if he actually cut him in half or if Macrinus just crumpled in the river in a heap but DAMN

This film used footage from the first Gladiator film so they gave the actor who played Lucius in the first film a credit which was nice!

That said, I know obviously it’s been 24 years since the original film so of course the child actor from the original is no longer 12 and so could not be in the flashback scenes showing young Lucius, but damn the difference was a little jarring to be honest, especially when it went from footage of the original film to new footage with the new child actor

Ridley Scott spoiled the ending of this fucking movie by saying he wanted to have Paul back to play Lucius again as the main character in Gladiator III 💀 so yeah, I already knew Lucius was surviving this film

Some final summary thoughts:

Let’s be honest, it would be impossible to top the first Gladiator and so while I loved Gladiator II and think it was amazing, it was obviously never going to quite reach the same level as the original

I know I just made the comment about nominating Fred for Best Supporting Actor but I have to be honest, I truly think Denzel deserves the nomination - if there’s only one actor from this film who gets that nomination, it has to be Denzel because he was by far the standout of the whole film. If I had to rank it personally I’d say Denzel and then Fred is a close second, then maybe Joseph and Pedro?

^ This isn’t me saying Joe and Pedro were bad at all, they were all really amazing, but this film just had so many characters and quite frankly Fred, Joe and Pedro had WAY less screentime than Denzel so they didn’t have nearly as much to work with as he did.

Again; I’m biased because I went in the most excited to see the Emperors, but I wish we’d had more of Caracalla and Geta. Fred and Joe did their best to work with what they were given, but they didn’t have that much and pretty much all of their scenes were shown in trailers or TV spots etc.

GIVE CHERRY THE MONKEY A FUCKING OSCAR

I obviously wasn’t expecting Paul Mescal to fight real baboons, rhinos and sharks but the CGI was… not great. It was quite obvious that it was CGI for the baboons and sharks, I think the rhino was slightly better though (Fred mentioned in an interview his first day involved “the mechanical rhino” so it was somewhat partly practical as well I suppose)

The pacing of this film was a little all over the place, if I’m being honest. I want to rewatch soon, from further back in the screen because, as I said, I was craning my head back the whole time and it ended up giving me a neck and headache so that probably added to me being uncomfortable (plus I’d had a long day and was thoroughly burned out by the time the screening started), but there were times where I was like “oh… we’re back here then 😐”

^ What I’m trying to say is that some of the storylines happened so fast and had very little build up (eg. The emperors in general) whilst other plots were so slow burn in comparison.

The music was so good! I know people are going to compare it unfavourable to Hans Zimmer’s original score from the first film, but I LOVE Harry Gregson-Williams (he did the soundtrack for the first two Narnia films so I’m biased 😅) and I thought he did a great job with the score here. The fact he had Hans Zimmer’s approval and praise made me confident the score would be great anyway

I feel like people are obviously going to compare Paul Mescal to Russell Crowe which… let’s be honest, has gotta suck for him because how the fuck do you live up to Russell Crowe?!? Some people have already said that they didn’t like Paul in this film, which… okay, fair enough. I honestly don’t think comparing him to Russell Crowe does him any favours. I enjoyed watching him personally, and I think given that this whole film rests on him, he did great. Not quite Russell Crowe but I have no complaints about his performance personally.

People are also going to compare Joe and Fred to Joaquin Phoenix’s Commodus, and I think they both did a great job given that they didn’t actually have nearly as much screen-time as Joaquin did in the original film. It’s almost unfair to compare them because in the first Gladiator, Commodus was the main antagonist - in this film, Macrinus is the main antagonist overall whilst the Emperors are more secondary antagonists that serve as obstacles for Macrinus’ rise to power. But they both did great with what they had.

Overall, my opinion of the film?

This film NEEDS to be seen on a big screen at the cinema! Go and watch it!

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 8 part 7

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

more Oz references! fury of the elements, one very pissed ex, same thing.

god but how much I love rio going feral?! it's so stupid I'm giggling and kicking my feet about it. you'd think a very old, very wise being would react like a grown ass adult after a breakup, especially because it was such a long time coming. but does rio go home to process things quietly? noooooooo she summons a whole storm and sits on a roof waiting for agatha to come out of her basement, so she can be an ass about it. if they were humans rio would be slashing agatha's tires and smashing windows and throwing rotten eggs at her house drunk at three in the morning, and you know what? good for her!!! she's been fucking trying to work things out in a mature responsible way, and it was never going to work, agatha was never going to grow up. so fuck it. agatha wants to be immature? we'll show her immature! I support my girl going full petty and unhinged, let her cry and scream and eat a whole ice cream tub and then throw it all up, let her piss all over agathas' rhododendrons, my girl has earned it.

AND she's brought her favorite soul-reaping orchid with her! she's like, I'm gonna do it! this time I'm gonna getcha! I will drag your ungrateful ass to our son kicking and screaming if I have to!!!!

...girl. we both know you ain't. like agatha is literally about to die and you still won't reap that soul without her consent. absolute loser behavior.

and agatha... well, agatha never backed off from an immaturity showdown. oooh she's gonna out-toddler you for sure.

but it's so interesting that the Road didn't give her her powers back. tbh I don't think she ever lost her powers at all, seeing as she's first and foremost a succubus and that power works just fine, if alice's fate is any indication. it's more like, three years under the spell completely drained her battery and she desperately needs to feed.

and agatha wasn't planning on joining the Road at all, as far as she was concerned it didn't even exist. like with lilia, jen and alice the Road gave her not what she asked, but what she needed all along: her prize was that moment of closure with nicky

so rio cannot kill people, she can only make them wish they were dead, and I just realized, her special talent is also being fucking annoying, just like agatha

by the way, rewatching wandavision I realized that his name is JOHN, not herb! I'm so sorry I've been calling you the wrong name this whole time, my guy. ALSO MOVE OUT OF THAT NEIGHBORHOOD DEAR LORD

same goes for you two. harold you have a daughter!

(omg a literal harold, they're lesbians.)

agatha sees the fire moon and it reminds her of alice. she draws a circle for the expelle hoc malum protection spell she's learned from her. she had a coven only for a day and look how much they've gotten under her skin.

rio gives an incredulous sigh. are you calling me "evil"? it's like, we've been over this!

I know that baby and I love you, but also you're very much sitting on a rooftop cackling like a maniac. how can these two be both so tragic and so so fucking ridiculous at the same time.

it's like, she's absolutely right, she's no villain and she's no demon, agatha should stop treating her like one and punishing her for it. but also... stop begging her to, for fuck's sake. rio, my love, have some dignity. stop chasing. you did a dramatic exit half an hour ago, WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE

agatha trying to exorcise her ex wife with a spell: clownass behavior.

rio blowing the circle away with a kiss: also clownass behavior.

but is she wrong????

lilia's turn to come in handy!

I'm sorry but... a whole sink? she threw a whole sink at her head?? this scene is so fucking hilarious, like I know some people found rio ooc but to me it makes perfect sense. I'm just sorry she didn't throw a toilet.

GO HOME, RIO. it's okay, we're gonna put up a picture of agatha in your living room and throw poop at it until you feel better or smth, it's gonna be okay, you let it all out.

^^literally rio

jen's moment: vulnus ab aqua curare.

I don't think it's going to help you much though, babe. remember when agatha kept poking wanda with a stick and got her ass kicked to oblivion in return? she's been poking DEATH for two hundred years. what did she expect???!?!

THAT IS THE HOTTEST SOMEONE HAS EVER LOOKED, DEAR LORD

and considering that rio chooses an outfit for each soul she reaps: this is what she chose for agatha??? girl, be for real!!!

aaaand she gets kicked into a wall a moment later. after her devastating sexy ass walk with the high slit dress and all. complete loser behavior.

(also hilarious: agatha's laundry hanging there the whole time)

billy came back to save agatha (awww) but not before conjuring a cool wiccan costume and doing a very dramatic entrance (awwwwwwww). literally her son.

I agree tbh

agatha's face when she realizes billy is choosing to give her magic: this is the first time someone does it willingly. and sure he is super powerful (she drained poor alice in a second), but I keep imagining a world were agatha is an important, cherished member of a community, maybe playing the vital role of teacher and knowledge keeper, and the community willingly donates magic in return, all together and on a regular basis, like people donate blood, so that no one dies and she doesn't starve.

look at how the beam changes color, and just how happy she is to finally eat. it's just the way she was born, you know? I hate that evanora turned it into something horrible when it didn't need to.

oh god, that stupid outfit again. that is agatha's "I'm such a scary merciless bitch and I don't care about your feelings" outfit. as if.

and then she realizes she's killing billy. look at her face, a moment ago she even said how good all this power feels. she could easily take it all. but of course for billy she has to stop.

so, can agatha actually control her powers? well, it's complicated, isn't it? she definitely couldn't when she was very young. possibly she never sought to learn how to as time went on.

(thank you for your patience, everyone, I'll update more regularly from now on. and you all know what happens next entry.)

go to episode 8 part 8

[ven0moir]

So, Bychance is on my radar and ... I think it'll actually happen.

Disclaimer, I realize this is me going full unhinged mode and some of this might be because I'm so bored lately but the more I think about where we left Will off in S4, the more I think Will might actually take a chance ( lmao? ) to be with someone new, even if deep down he knows it's not in his best interests--it'll be more a coping mechanism, an attempt to move on from Mike, and without realizing he might be repeating the pattern of his parent's relationship due to trauma.

This will ultimately result in growth for him, of course, and the breaking of these cycles. Will Byers will be free in the end, but the road there won't be easy.

So here we go--by the leaks of Holly being taken, and the outfits they are wearing, we can infer S5 Byler will mirror S1 Jancy.

Yeah. And how did Nancy start S1?

Having a one-time, two-time secretive thing with a jock ( bully ) that left a note in her locker at the start of the season.

Something something bullies leaving a note in Will's locker at the start of the season.

Something something a bully leaving a note at the start of S5 in Will's locker with a place and time to meet.

And what is one of the most noticeable things that Stancy and Mileven have in common?

Yeah, they start seemingly very passionate, only to fall apart later. Add Bychance to that mix.

Now, about the place and time where Chance and Will likely secretly meet. At first I thought it would be Benny's Burger.

Benny's Burger, which also foreshadows Mike telling Eleven something about her Benny Burger's t-shirt in EP9. It is also established in these screenshots that Benny's Burger is a place commonly used for people to hang out, likely teenagers, to engage in illegal things like drinking ( and probably more, the 69 poster above Lucas' head notwithstanding )

We also have the whole 'WE ❤️ TIGERS' posters, and Christmas Lights which we have come to associate with Will, as it has been established that this is Will's favorite holiday as well.

However, Chance and Will would have to be extra careful not to get caught, so chances are they'll go for places that aren't frequented ...

Now, the main question is, why Chance? And I'll admit this is all oh so fairly loose and likely a reach, but if we are to believe Will is going to have a secret thing with a bully, then out of all of the ones introduced in S4, Chance is the one that I'd dare to say we can connect Will with through symbolism, albeit vague.

The first time we see Chance, we see the poster 'Defeat The Falcons' closer to him than anyone else on the team even though he was on the bench.

Now, correct me if Im wrong, but if there is an association with Mike and falcons, then it could hint at Mike having lost to chance this season. Foreshadowing he loses to a literal Chance next season? Since Chance didn't come out the bench this season. Yikes. Good luck, Mike. You're gonna need it.

We also notice he's sporting the number 22 in his shirt ( which considering the attention brought to t-shirts this season, I'd say this means something, especially bc 22 is Will's birthday and it is also speculated to be the date of the Creel Murders -- Chance and Will meeting at the Creel House oh god ... ).

Speaking of 22, this scene is interconnected with Will in California through music--it does have a similar context in which both Lucas and Will feel abandoned by their friends. But we also see what you could argue is an extra that is supposed to remind us of Chance behind Will wearing a shirt ( again with the shirts ) that says 'I love contact sports'

Moments before, we *just* saw Chance next to Lucas, in the same spot we see Mike as well--as if the two are being compared. ( Tiger vs Falcon? )

We know Will is associated with tigers, but we can also infer that he loves tigers, which connects him to the 'WE ❤️ YOU TIGERS' poster in Benny's Burgers.

This is as far as I have gone in my analysis, but I might rewatch S1 and S3 at one point to follow along the narrative patterns and see if I can uncover more.

My guess right now is if Bychance is established early on, then it might go for about a couple episodes before it inevitably crashes and burns--with Will being the one to end things, and then Byler happens at the end in a way that pays off.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hi, I have a request if you don't mind...

Any of the batboys [Or poly with all of them ;)] with an ultra-feminine Reader, with a filthy *wink* *wink* mouth.

She is very into dresses, makeup, dressing up and everything that is considered 'girly', and their mate just thinks she will be all soft and innocent too, how most guys think "Just how females are supposed to be" (Obv, not the bat boys cause they love their women all loud and powerful)

But she literally has the wildest, dirtiest, most unhinged thoughts and just says them without a second thought

and the first time it happens, during IC dinner, she says a string of swears or just says the most sexual thing to her mate and everyone in the IC eyes them and Nesta/Elain (who was a little cold to her for whatever reason) just goes "Ok I was wrong, I love this bitch"

Dirty mouth.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; SWEARING :') , suggestive

Masterlist.

Hello I really hope this is what you had in mind! I had so much fun writing this! If you don't like it you can always ask me to rewrite it I won't get offended. Hope you enjoy it! <3

When you first met Azriel, and the bond snapped you felt like the luckiest female in the world. The shadowsinger was the best mate someone could wish for, he treated you like a queen and even though it had only been six months since you accepted the bond, you felt like you knew everything about him.

You couldn’t say the same for him though since you decided to keep your bolder personality hidden not wanting to scare him away. Azriel only saw a female who cared about clothes and shopping with her friends, he told you how sweet and delicate you are multiple times and always tried to be soft in bed. At first you enjoyed all the protectiveness and affection but as the months passed you decided to stop overthinking before you spoke and let Azriel see who you really are.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You should try these cookies, I got them from the new bakery” Feyre exclaimed and placed a big box on the dining table.

You were in the dining room at the house of wind with the inner circle, Azriel was sitting next to you with one protective wing wrapped around you.

Everyone took a cookie, including your mate who took a bite and let a soft moan.

“What was that?” Cassian chuckled.

“Oh he really likes it, that's the noise he makes when I suck his cock” you giggled.

Azriel choked on the cookie, Rhysand and Cassian gaped at you and the girls burst into laughter. You quirked a brow at Nesta who always gave you a hard time and she winked.

“What did you say?” Azriel asked when he stopped choking.

“That’s how you moan when I suck your cock just before you finish in my thro…” he covered your mouth with his palm and stared at you wide-eyed.

Nesta went hysteric and shouted, “okay I love you”.

That was the first time Azriel saw your true self and as the days passed and you made more comments like that and started cursing too his whole attitude changed and he finally started treating you like he wasn’t afraid of breaking you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were in a meeting with the inner circle and Eris to find a way to kill Beron, the Autumn heir though kept making offensive comments to your mate and you could feel your patience running thin.

“How does it feel to be touched by those disgusting hands?” Eris asked you and silence filled the room.

“Most of the times I squirt” you replied with a smirk. Eris frowned while Azriel’s breath hitched.

“What happened lordling? Cat got your tongue, or you just can’t process the fact that the shadowsinger fucks better than you?” you teased him and got up.

You grabbed the Truth-Teller from your mate and approached Eris.

“Do you know how many times he has fucked me with this?” you asked and touched the tip of the dagger on his cheek. Rhys tensed but Cassian grabbed his shoulder with a proud look.

Azriel’s face flushed, and he gaped at the scene in front of him.

“Do you want to have the honor to feel this inside you too?” you asked, and he shook his head, his face paled.

“Then I suggest shutting your fucking mouth before I sew it.” You growled and walked back to your mate.

The meeting finished after a while and Azriel cupped your jaw staring deep in your eyes

“You never fail to amaze me” he mumbled and kissed you “but to be honest you are scaring me a bit” he continued and smiled.

“And you haven’t seen all of me yet” you replied and pecked his nose before exiting the office, leaving a very worried shadowsinger inside.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time it happened you were having a game night with your friends, you and Azriel were winning but Cassian and Nesta were close behind only two points away.

“You have 7 red” Nesta said.

“Siphons” Cassian exclaimed.

“Oh and Azriel’s siphons are..”

“Blue”

“Time!” Feyre said.

“It’s a tie” Rhysand announced.

“Oh come on those were so easy like asking him what his name is” you protested and Azriel chuckled.

“No I’m just better than you” Cassian teased you.

“Oh fuck off brute” you scoffed, Azriel spat his wine and stared at you.

“Seriously you have to warn me before you do that.” He mumbled and grabbed a napkin.

“Does it hurt to share the victory you little bitch?” Cassian smirked.

“Does it hurt to know that your mate fakes it every night?” Cassian turned to Nesta who was laughing uncontrollably.

“You’re a cocksucker” He shouted and winked to show that he was just messing with you.

“And a good one, ask Azriel” your mate shook his head and glanced at Feyre who was covering Nyx' ears.

After a small fist fight with Cassian, you both burst into laughter and hugged.

“You act like babies” Rhysand spoke. “Shut up” you and Cassian said simultaneously making the high lord lean his head back with a desperate look on his face.

“Okay I think you had enough wine for tonight my little cocksucker” Azriel teased and grabbed your shoulders “Let’s get you in bed”.

“I will show you how good I am” you winked and let him guide you into your shared bedroom ignoring Cassian’s gags.

After a while Azriel got used to your dirty mouth and the way you threatened whoever disrespected him and actually enjoyed it. He felt good having someone to protect him for a change and fight his battles. A few months later he noticed that he started cursing more and was horrified when he realized that he was acting like you, later he started making vulgar comments too and everyone groaned “Now we have two of them”. You had never felt prouder for your mate.

[weirdero]

I’ve seen a lot of people online saying that Piper is either going to be Quinn 2.0 from Season 1 or Olivia 2.0, and honestly, I get it. I understand where those assumptions are coming from and it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world especially if she ended up as another Quinn. She seems like a nice girl stuck in a fucked up family. But my god that would just be so boringgggg. We’re only on Season 3 it’s way too early for the show to start recycling character archetypes. I also think with the added dynamic of her brothers she’ll be her own evil freaky bitch yk. Anyways the siblings got me fucked up.

Her brothers are themselves. Saxon is the most outrageous out of three I don't think he's ever been proper humbled in his life and has a very very very disgusting black and white outlook on the world.

He's like those men who believe life revolves around sex and sex is just a game. The type of man that excuses his abhorrent terrible behavior on his “natural human instinct”.

Lochlan is definitely chiller, but still a freak. He seems to crave attention from both of his siblings in a very odd way. He enjoys Saxon’s “life advice” and gossip. I think he’s very aware of his brother’s unhinged nature and recognizes that it’s ridiculous but I genuinely don’t believe he sees it as anything more than that. He’s the kind of guy that just brushes Saxon’s behavior off because “he’s just a silly guy,” YK?

And with Piper, I think he definitely knows she’s the more normal one compared to Saxon. Even though we haven’t seen them interact much yet I think they’re able to have more honest conversations with each other. He tells her that he attempted to pray and even though he didn’t really feel any sort of divine intervention or anything he still chooses to share this with Piper.

He also gives off gossipy vibes. When Saxon tells him he thinks piper has never had sex before he decided to tell piper about it but not in a concerning “our brother is a freak” way but in a playful way, kinda like it’s just some casual chitchat, rather than something deeply weird. Like I mentioned earlier he also excuses his brother behavior by down playing it and explaining the original context of the statement as a “compliment”????

And after piper is clearly disturbed and uncomfortable with this conversation he decides to double down and ask her if she had had sex before.

This gossipy nature comes out during their lunch scene with that whole Kate and Victoria interaction. I already talked about how I interpreted both Kate’s and Victorias feelings in this scene and why the both specifically acted that way in this post but the way Lochlan acts is also very telling of who he is he's the only person at that table to question his mothers odd behavior telling her straight up was was kinda rude. But just like with Saxon I don't he actually cares or takes an issue with how his mom handled that interaction he's not actively trying to call her out but more curious than anything. Get kinda messy with it. YK? Anyways like I said he doesn’t actually care about how she acted based off how he reacts to her prostitution joke laughing along with Saxon and his father. Actually scratch that he looks at Saxon first to check if HES LAUGHING. also he was 100% ready to watch his brother jack off. Weirdo!

Then there’s piper. Like fucking pipe. She does seem to be the most sane out of all of them in the instances that I brought up she’s like literally the only person with an appropriate response. but I still can't properly pin point her. I want to believe she's sane and normal I really do and hell she might be and I might just be too fucking suspicious but there is just something about her. When lochlan tells her about saxsons comment about her sex life her first reaction to me seems defensive. Not even a "why would he say that" type of reaction which she settles for later but a "he doesn't know what I do".

And again, I might be reading into things, but it just feels so specific. I’ve been watching this season with my friends one of them specifically loves Piper’s character and another thinks she’s just a performative white girl Olivia 2.0 But neither of them think she’s a freak.

In defense of my friend who thinks she’s just another privileged white girl she did point out another moment during the family’s lunch conversation

She tells her dad that she didn’t choose this hotel and that it’s not her vibe and its like “Disneyland for rich bohemians from Malibu and their Lululemon leggings”

Then later she’s seen in yoga in what honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if they were Lululemon leggings.

Anyway, it’s almost 8pm where I am now and I need this new episode to drop now.

[noneorother]

Oh my god, season 2 is The Tales of Crowley Hoffmann

I guess this has to be a series now too. Part 1 l Part 2

When Aziraphale wants to perform a show-stopping magic trick in S2E4, he is shown the "Professor's Nightmare," a rope trick, and references "Prof Hoff himself" at the end of the minisode.

Because we love double meanings so much around here, I decided to actually watch the Powell & Pressburger epic opera film "The Tales of Hoffmann," assuming it was the another P&P easter egg and the other Hoffmann (not the magician) that was being referenced.

One, this movie is unhinged. Two, this season IS The Tales of Hoffmann. Allow me to explain...

There are shot for shot quotes literally everywhere throughout the season.

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Hoffmann watches Stella perform) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Clerk in Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia, Hoffman & Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Crowley & Aziraphale"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Giulietta Banquet scene) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Banquet scene" *By the way Hoffmann wears a goatee for this tale

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue "Dragonfly dance") & Good Omens Season 2 Prologue "Before the Beginning" *This is Stella and un unknown devil drangonfly, NOT Hoffmann

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"

P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (End credits through Hoffman's glasses) & Good Omens Season 2 end credit scene.

Stella & Aziraphale. This one makes me laugh.

There are SO MANY MORE, but tumblr has an image limit. Seriously, it's nuts.

2. It seems simple and straightforward, but it's not at all

" Why would ambitious filmmakers simply film an opera? Many admirers of the work of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger have assumed that their decision to make The Tales of Hoffmann (...) was in some way an admission(...) that they couldn’t go on making their edgy, over-the-top melodramas after the rejection and interference they’d suffered (but) there’s a case for considering The Tales of Hoffmann as one of the finest and boldest works that Powell and Pressburger produced, so far ahead of its time as a wholly “composed” film, combining visual and musical elements, that it has still not been fully appreciated... Late in his life, Powell himself said that he thought it was one of the best films that he and Pressburger had made. What makes the film so remarkable is a series of paradoxes: the fact that it virtually reinvented the freedom and fantasy of silent cinema while making full use of Technicolor and a stellar cast of dancers and singers..." - Criterion, The lives of marionettes

3. The structure of the story is the same as the show

Here is the story of the Movie** (Not really the Opera that inspired it) In the prologue, we see the dance of the dragonflies onstage at a ballet. Count Lindoff (very bad dude) is spying on both the principal dancer Stella, and the audience member Hoffmann (who's admiring her). Lindoff is behind the scenery. During her dance, Stella passes a love note to her assistant for Hoffmann. The bad dude intercepts it out of jealousy. During the intermission, Hoffmann goes down to the tavern next door, watched by his sort of buddy in red, Nicklaus. People ask him to tell stories to while away the time, and so he tells 3 stories (actually four but we'll get back to that).

We launch into 3 tales/minisodes in other times and places : 1. The Tale of the Ball of the Automaton where he falls in love with a robot. He is humiliated. 2. The tale of Venice (Giulietta) where he falls in love with a courtesan/double agent who crosses him. 3. The tale of Antonia, where he falls in love with a girl who feels trapped by her living dad, her dead mom and a mysterious bad dude (Lindoff). She is murdered in a ring of fire, but becomes a ghost and is resurrected and sent back to earth. At the end, we snap back to the tavern in the real world. Hoffmann reveals that these three women are all metaphors for how he feels about Stella, his true love. He's drunk and depressed now, thinking she never sent for him after the show. Stella arrives in the tavern looking for Hoffmann, ready to run away, but now accompanied by Lindoff (dressed as an angelic figure) who followed her. She looks to Hoffmann to save her, but he's too blinded by the fact that he doesn't think she loves him back to pick up on the signal. He gives up, and she goes back up the stairs guided by Lindoff. Her assistant (who was bribed by Lindoff at the beginning) is given the go ahead by Lindoff to go back to the tavern and taker over. They close the door to the tavern, while she walks up ethereal stairs with the bad dude. THE END.

The one story that doesn't fit into the minisodes and is told in the real world is Kleinzach. We understand by the end of this one that this is Hoffmann's self loathing about never being good enough for Stella, because Stella is perfect and Hoffmann is ugly and deformed. The main love interest attempts to steal Kleinzach's essence through a mirror by the end. 4. Powell & Pressburger recast four actors in new roles In The Tales of Hoffmann, P&P decided to recast four of the principal actors/dancers from the film The Red Shoes in new roles, wanting to recreate the magic that they brought to the first ballet film. Sound familiar?

5. Crowley is Hoffmann

"The Tales of Hoffmann" original 1881 costume concept for Hoffmann & Crowley costume sketch for S2E3 1827 Edinburgh. Glasses are a really important aspect for Hoffmann in both the opera and the movie versions of The Tales of Hoffmann. Hoffmann is gifted metaphorical magic glasses that he wears to be able to perceive his love in a way they aren't really in real life. In the opera, he wears dark glasses to shut out the real world, not just as a metaphor. Check out a modern day version of the opera's Hoffmann costume :

He's french and slamming a beer but you get it. Crowley also canonically loves watching movies. It would make so much sense that his minisode recountings with him and Aziraphale would resemble different styles of movie that he loves. Seeing as we see him drive away at the end as the last character, an argument could be made for him being the ultimate narrator of the story in season 2.

6. The original American release of The Tales of Hoffman had 14ish minutes cut out of it by the studio. So we all know by now that whole debacle about having the clocks jump 14-15ish minutes during the kiss?

"The Tales of Hoffmann found an audience far wider than expected, despite Korda’s misgivings about the movie’s running time and his decision to cut 14 minutes out of the film for its American release." - Criterion, The Tales of Hoffman

I have been unable to unearth what the difference between the American & British versions of the P&P Tales of Hoffmann is, if you know let ME know. I want to know! _____________________________________

And I HAVE SO MUCH MORE. This is long enough already so I'll save the more detailed stuff for a new post.

**The opera is a whole other beast. You can read about it here, but basically there's a lot more going on in the opera because the composer died before finishing it, and multiple versions exist after the original uncompleted score got lost IN A FIRE. Anyway. Here's part 2

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Crack, Mentions of Drugs (Edibles), Unhinged Driving, Dubious Decision-Making, Nanami’s Ongoing Suffering. A/N: This chapter gave me so much procrastination that I posted 4-5 one-shots instead of finishing it, lol. You can see the effort in the chapter name itself. Attached links to help visualize things better, but honestly, just hallucinate them. Linkin Park has never performed in Ibiza, but in this story (and our collective delusions), they have. Also, Chester is alive because I said so. The song they’re screaming at Nanami is this: Faint – Linkin Park For my rap & metalhead babes, I highly recommend this unhinged track instead, but fair warning: Do not listen while driving unless you want to accidentally recreate the Jesko scene. Linkin Park/Slipknot/Eminem-Damage A little headcanon for this series(more at the bottom): Nanami and Reader are metalheads first, people second, while Gojo listens to literally anything, but they all agree on Linkin Park. Also, Gojo & Nanami are millennials in canon, so they probably fucked heavy with Linkin Park. Lastly, yes, I know the Jesko is a two-seater but is being used for plot reasons. You have two options: hallucinate it as a four-seater or imagine Nanami sitting in Gojo’s lap like an incredibly disgruntled boyfriend. Choose your fighter. Linkin Park Fans Rise Up!!!

Previous Chapter 14 (alt ending 2.5) - He's Eldritch (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 15 (alt ending 2.6) - Ibiza

Valentine’s Day,

Few Years Ago – Linkin Park Concert, Ibiza

Ibiza had been a mistake.

Not because you weren’t having fun, but because Nanami was here too—which meant Gojo and you were actively working to drive him insane.

"Put her down!"

"She literally just jumped on me like a goddamn gecko, Kento; at least let me enjoy it."

You were currently perched on Gojo’s broad shoulders, warm thighs wrapped around his neck, arms anchored in his soft hairs as he swung side to side to the live music.

The crowd was electric—Linkin Park’s heaviest guitar riffs were shaking the very air.

None of you could quite recall whose idea it was to choose Ibiza for your honeymoon, but since Nanami rarely got the chance to attend concerts back in Japan, he was exceptionally excited for this one.

Now, however, he was deeply regretting that decision, sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of his nose, half due to the sheer volume of your yelling and half because Gojo had decided to twirl in circles with you on his shoulders.

You weren’t even holding on properly, just tugging at his hair with blind faith (full Ratatouille), your head thrown back in laughter as Gojo stumbled dangerously close to knocking over someone’s beer.

"I’m getting drinks," Nanami grumbled, already walking away.

You and Gojo were screaming lyrics like lunatics.

Directly at him.

Loudly.

“DON’T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME—"

“I WON’T BE IGNORED—"

The babysitter returned twenty minutes later, with three beers, feeling marginally less irritated—until he saw you and Gojo standing in the middle of the crowd, staring blankly at nothing.

His stomach dropped.

Something was wrong.

You were way too still, eyes wide and unfocused, while Gojo was just smiling at absolutely nothing.

You both looked nothing short of zombies.

Then he noticed the small, half-empty bag in your hand.

Gummies.

Expensive imported ones.

The kind people only sold in dark corners and called ‘magic treats.’

“Oh no.”

At the sound of his voice, you and Gojo whipped your heads toward him in eerie synchronization.

“OH NO.”

Gojo blinked at him. Then at the bag in your hand. Then back at Nanami.

“…Did we just drug ourselves?”

Nanami took one deep, suffering breath. “How many did you eat?”

You squinted at the bag. “…How many come in a pack?”

“FIFTEEN?!”

You and Gojo stared at each other.

Gojo: “…Oh.”

You: “…Shit.”

And then it hit.

Thirty minutes later, you both were Ibiza’s Most Wanted.

Gojo was hanging upside down from a railing, laughing at nothing.

You were clinging to Nanami’s back, crying about people wasting glitter.

Nanami was holding both of you by your collars like two feral turkeys.

“THIS IS WHY I DON’T DO THIS SHIT,” Nanami yelled, muffled by the concert noise, physically restraining Gojo from attempting to climb a speaker.

Meanwhile, you started giggling at your phone, trying to take a video for your Instagram story.

“Ken~” you sang.

“NO.”

“I wuve you.”

“NO.”

“Please?”

“…NO—”

Gojo suddenly grabbed Nanami’s face with both hands, his pupils the size of dinner plates.

“I THINK THE GROUND IS MOVING.”

Nanami physically winced, praying to whoever was listening to end him now.

But then—you gasped.

“Ken, I have an idea.”

He already hated it. “NO.”

Gojo gasped. “SHE’S RIGHT, KENTO!” He turned to you, planting a kiss on your head while spinning you around. “You’re a genius, babe,” he exclaimed.

No one knew what the idea was or how Gojo knew (if he even knew at all).

“That’s it. I’ve had it with you two. Give me that!” Nanami snatched the bag of gummies from your hand, reached into the cursed, demon-infested bag, shoved all five remaining gummies into his mouth, and chewed aggressively before swallowing.

He looked up at you and Gojo, smiling maniacally.

It was then that he realized.

You and Gojo had manipulated him into joining you with a disturbing level of unity.

His face paled. You both clung to either side of him. “You look so cute when you’re jealous, Ken,” you cooed.

He sighed.

One hour later, no one was okay.

Gojo was leaning against a palm tree, staring at the sky, mumbling something about the universe. Every few seconds, he’d point at a random star and whisper, “That one’s judging me.”

You, on the other hand, were fully convinced you were Batman. You’d fashioned a makeshift cape out of a cardigan and were crouched on top of a table, growling at anyone who came near. “I am vengeance,” you hissed, pointing at a wild goat. “I am the night.” The goat, unimpressed, stole your entire plate of food and ran off. “Well, well, looks like we have a new villain in Gotham: The Caprine!” you shouted, ready to chase it before concert security glared you down.

And Nanami?

Nanami was standing perfectly still, staring at his hands as if he’d just discovered they existed, realizing for the first time that he was made of matter and atoms. He poked his own arm experimentally, as if expecting it to collapse into a pile of stardust. “This is… unsettling.”

The night was ruined.

Somewhere between Gojo’s existential crisis, your vigilante delusions, and Nanami’s sudden realization that he was, in fact, a physical being, things had spiraled so far out of control that the only logical next step was to start making out.

Which—well.

That’s exactly what happened.

It started with Gojo, because of course it did. He stumbled over to you, still muttering about the universe, and declared, “If we’re all just atoms, then we’re basically the same person. So this isn’t weird.” Before anyone could stop him, he grabbed your face and planted a sloppy kiss on your lips. You, still in full Batman mode, responded by dramatically declaring, “This city needs me,” before kissing him back.

Nanami, still staring at his hands, didn’t even notice at first. But when he finally looked up and saw the two of you, he froze. “What… are you doing?”

“We’re atoms,” Gojo replied, as if that explained everything. “Join us, Kento. Become one with the cosmos.”

Nanami blinked. Then, in a move that shocked even himself, he walked over, grabbed both of your faces, and kissed each of you.

The only silver lining in this entire disaster was that everyone around you was just as messed up as you were. A guy in a banana costume was trying to serenade a palm tree, a group of tourists were arguing with a vending machine, and someone had set up a slip-and-slide using whiskey as lubricant. No one batted an eye at the three of you making out in the middle of it all.

Ibiza had been a mistake. A colossal, unhinged, gummy-fueled mistake.

Around one a.m., you three were doing the walk of shame, except it wasn’t shame, just weed.

The streets of Ibiza were alive—a blur of neon lights, pulsing music, and the three most ridiculous human beings to ever exist, stumbling their way back to the hotel.

Well, it should’ve been a normal walk back, but you all looked like a trio of escaped lunatics.

“Okay, okay—” you wheezed, giggling uncontrollably, “—but imagine... imagine if we were actually in a video game.”

Gojo gasped, clutching his chest. “OH MY GOD. WHAT IF WE’RE JUST NPCS?!”

Nanami blinked slowly, his expression so serious it made it funnier. “I think I can hear colors.”

“See?!” you threw your hands up, nearly smacking Gojo in the face. “He’s the protagonist right now.”

“Not fair,” Gojo pouted. “I wanna be the protagonist.”

“You always act like the protagonist,” Nanami grumbled.

Gojo gasped louder, clutching Nanami’s shoulders. “WHAT IF I’M THE LOVE INTEREST?!”

You burst out laughing so hard that you had to lean on him for support, while Nanami just groaned, rubbing his temples like he was seconds away from throwing himself into the ocean.

Gojo squinted at you suddenly. “You’re way too pretty. You’re definitely the rich main character who has a tragic backstory.”

You gasped, playing along. “Am I an heiress?”

You and Gojo collapsed into laughter.

You weren’t just high—no, that would’ve been fine.

You were also drunk off your asses, giggling like idiots, barely keeping it together.

Gojo insisted on carrying you, except his definition of carrying was throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Nanami, who had officially entered his existential crisis era, was dragging a hand down his face. “I hate both of you.”

Gojo patted your backside. “Lies. You married us. No takesies backsies.”

Nanami deadpanned, his eyes bloodshot and full of regret. “That was a mistake.”

“Oh?” You gasped, hanging upside down off Gojo’s back. “Nanami Kento. Are you saying you regret our marriage?”

“Yes.”

Gojo nearly choked on his laughter, stumbling sideways and almost sending all three of you crashing into a streetlamp.

“You’re so mean,” you huffed, kicking your feet like an upset toddler as Gojo adjusted his grip on you.

“He’s lying,” Gojo whispered loudly against your thigh, as if Nanami wasn’t standing right there.

Nanami deadpanned again. “I married a clown and his assistant.”

At some point, you insisted on walking, so now all three of you were stumbling side by side, giggling at absolutely nothing.

Gojo was elbow-deep in your bag, rifling through it like a raccoon with opposable thumbs. "Where are they?" he whined, tossing out a mascara, a pack of gum, and what looked like a card from some male investor (he discreetly threw that one away). "YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE SNACKS! This is inhumane!"

Nanami, meanwhile, was squinting at a street sign like it was written in hieroglyphics. "Is this… Spanish?" he muttered, tilting his head as if that would help. "Or did they just make this up?" He frowned. “Why are there so many Z’s? What does ‘chiringuito’ even mean? Is that a place or a disease?”

And you? You were deeply, existentially concerned about your shoes.

"Why do they sound like that?" you suddenly demanded, stopping dead in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes locked onto your heels as if they had betrayed you. You took a step. Click-clack. Another. Click-clack.

"They’re heels," Nanami deadpanned, like a man who had long given up on understanding you. "That’s what they do."

“No, but like—why do they click?” you insisted, bending down to poke at them.

Gojo snorted, pointing at you. “I told you she’s high as fuck.”

“I know. We all are,” Nanami sighed, grabbing your arm before you could walk straight into traffic. “Can we please keep moving?”

"My feet hurt," you whined, pouting so aggressively that it looked like you might actually cry. "I hate them."

Nanami removed his own shoes, then knelt to take off your heels. “Here,” he said, handing you his loafers. “Wear these. I’ll carry your heels.”

You beamed, slipping into his loafers like some kind of victorious little ogre. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, you grabbed Nanami’s face and kissed him on the lips before skipping ahead like nothing had happened.

Gojo, still rifling through your bag while looking for candies you kept in it, yelled, “I’m dying of hunger! Why is there nothing to eat in here?!”

“It’s not Doraemon’s pouch!” you shot back. “You ate everything, and now I’m starving too. Ugh, give it back before you tear it apart, you savage.”

Nanami pointed to a nearby food stall. “There’s food over there, but I lost my wallet. Gojo, did you bring yours?”

“I never bring my wallet. I don’t need to when I have you two treating me like the resident passenger princess.” Gojo grinned, unapologetic, as if this were a reasonable statement.

“Where are my cards?!” you suddenly shrieked, dumping the contents of your bag onto the sidewalk. “And why is there only lip gloss in here?!”

Gojo went completely still. "…It’s so small. Where was I supposed to put it?"

You inhaled sharply. "IN YOUR POCKET OR, BETTER YET, UP YOUR ASS?"

“Kinky.” Gojo smirked.

Nanami, exhausted, muttered, "I am so close to leaving you both here—"

"And to fit ONE lip gloss, you threw away ALL my cards?!" You continued, now physically shaking.

Gojo did what Gojo does best: he ran.

You lunged after him, but Nanami caught you around the waist like a seasoned babysitter. "Enough," he muttered, dragging you toward a nearby food stall. "They probably take online payments. Let’s just eat before I strangle both of you."

At the mere mention of food, Gojo, who had been halfway to a full sprint, immediately turned back, appearing at Nanami’s side as if he had never left.

The three of you stumbled toward the food stall, drawn by the siren call of greasy, late-night sustenance. The stall was a colorful mess of neon lights and handwritten signs, most of which were in Spanish. A stout old woman with a no-nonsense expression stood behind the counter, arms crossed, watching you approach with the kind of skepticism usually reserved for people who try to haggle over the price of a kebab.

Gojo boldly stepped up first. “Hello, madam!” he said, flashing his most charming smile. “We would like to order some food, please!” He never missed a chance to practice his English, still trying to impress you despite being married now.

The woman stared at him blankly, then grunted something in Spanish that sounded vaguely like a question.

“Uh,” Gojo said, his smile faltering. “Food? Comida? You know, like… eat?” He mimed shoving food into his mouth, complete with exaggerated chewing sounds.

The woman raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. She pointed at the menu board behind her, which was covered in words none of you could fully understand. “Elige,” she said gruffly.

Nanami stepped forward, squinting at the menu. “I think... this says ‘patatas bravas’?” he said, pointing at one item. “And this is... pan con tomate?”

You and Gojo collectively swooned over Mr. Worldwide Nanami Kento, who adjusted his glasses smugly.

The woman grunted again, nodding slightly. She pointed at Nanami, then at the menu, and made a gesture that seemed to mean, Hurry up and order.

“I’ll have the pan con tomate, please. And a bottle of water.” Nanami finished, pointing at the water bottles.

The woman nodded, scribbling something on a notepad. Then she turned to you, her expression somehow even more impatient.

“Uh, patatas bravas?” you said, pointing at the menu. “Please?”

She grunted again, jotting it down. Then she looked at Gojo, who was already leaning over the counter, trying to peer into the trays of food.

“Churros!” he declared, pointing at the tray. “All.”

The woman stared at him, then said something in Spanish that sounded like a warning. When Gojo didn’t react, she sighed and grabbed a plate, piling it high with churros. She shoved it toward him, then soon enough handed over the food to you and Nanami and turned away, clearly done with the three of you.

You grabbed your plate of patatas bravas and immediately shoved a forkful into your mouth. The crispy potatoes, smothered in spicy tomato sauce and aioli, were a revelation. “I think I’m in love with potatoes,” you moaned, your voice thick with pure, unfiltered emotion.

Nanami handed you a bottle of water. “We need to hydrate,” he said, his tone practical but slightly amused. “And maybe sober up.”

Gojo, meanwhile, was already on his third churro, powdered sugar dusted across his face like war paint. “Food tastes so much better when high.”

“Oh my god, I agree!” you exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically. Turning to Nanami, you brought some of the food to his mouth, and he ate it instinctively. “It’s good, darling,” he said, nodding in agreement.

You would have offered some to Gojo, but since he wasn’t sharing his, you felt a bit petty.

The three of you found a spot on the curb, sitting down to enjoy your 2 a.m. feast. Around you, Ibiza was alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and the occasional drunken shout. A group of tourists stumbled past, arguing over directions. A guy in a banana costume was trying to climb a lamppost. Someone had set up a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the street, and a crowd was gathering to watch.

You took another bite of your patatas bravas, savoring the flavors. “I could eat this every day,” you said, leaning against Nanami. “Like, seriously. I would marry these potatoes.”

Nanami sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “Please don’t propose to food in public.”

Gojo, his mouth full of churro, chimed in. “Too late. I already married this churro. We’re very happy together.”

You laughed, leaning back to look at the sky. The stars were bright, the air was warm, and you felt a strange sense of peace.

Once you three were done eating, you, Nanami, and Gojo stood at the food stall, drunk and high as hell, staring blankly at the old shopkeeper, who was now looking at you like she had already called the cops in her head.

"You scammers." She grunted, arms crossed over her chest.

"Excuse me?!" you sputtered, patting down your pockets as if money would magically appear.

Nanami diplomatically sighed. "We’re not scammers. We just... don’t have any cash."

The old lady squinted. "Scammers."

Gojo, absolutely no help at all, was still licking sugar off his fingers like some kind of degenerate. "Damn, these churros were worth the fraud."

"WE ARE NOT FRAUDS!" You turned on him, ready to strangle him.

The last sober neuron in Nanami’s brain was barely hanging on. "Look, we can pay online. Apple Pay, Google Pay, whatever you—"

"NO ONLINE!"The woman barked, shaking her head furiously. "No scammer money! Only cash! Or—" she paused, eyes narrowing at Nanami like she was assessing premium livestock. "Or you leave the Givenchy."

Your eyes snapped to Nanami’s expensive Givenchy dress shirt.

Gojo dropped a churro in slow motion.

Nanami just... exhaled, reaching for the top button of his shirt.

"Gakuganji’s bald head, Kento, NO," Gojo yelped.

You grabbed Nanami’s hands. "That shirt costs more than my liver; she’s scamming us!"

“I will scare her!” Gojo yelled, ready.

Nanami shrugged, already handing it over as payment. "It’s just a shirt."

The old lady grinned, practically vibrating with excitement. "Sí, sí! Is just a shirt!"

"LIKE HELL IT IS!" You were about to climb over the damn counter when she sniffed it like she had just inhaled the cure to all her problems.

Gojo lost it at that and cackled. "Babygirl, please," he wheezed, physically restraining you as you tried to murder the old woman with your bare hands.

"I AM NOT YOUR BABYGIRL!" you screamed, struggling against his grip. "MA’AM, GIVE ME THE SHIRT BACK BEFORE I—"

"No take-backs!" The woman grinned, hugging the shirt to her chest like it was her newborn child. "Good quality. Nice smell."

Gojo was losing his mind. "Babe, please, just let the old lady have it—"

"SHE IS HOLDING NANAMI’S CLOTHES HOSTAGE LIKE A WAR PRIZE, SATORU!"

Nanami placed a hand on your head like you were a particularly rabid kitten. "It’s fine," he said soothingly, his voice deep and warm in a way that had you temporarily forgetting your rage. "I’ll buy another one."

Gojo smirked. "And now you’re half-naked in Ibiza, Kento."

Nanami sighed. "Regrettably, yes."

And that’s how the three of you escaped the debt of a late-night food stall—at the great cost of Nanami’s designer shirt.

The walk back to the hotel was chaotic as hell.

Nanami, drunk and high, was relaxed in just his pants.

And that?

That was a problem.

Because apparently, Ibiza at night was full of thirsty women, and every single one of them was looking at your husband like he was a full-course meal.

You noticed it immediately.

The whispers. The stares. The not-so-subtle glances at Nanami’s broad, muscular frame, the way his exposed collarbone practically shimmered in the streetlights.

You scowled.

Then, without hesitation, you climbed him.

Not fully, obviously—you weren’t a damn spider monkey. But you threw yourself at his side, trying (and failing) to use your tiny body to block out literally six-plus feet of blond muscle.

Gojo doubled over laughing. "Baby, please, you look like a Chihuahua trying to guard a steak—"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, SATORU!"

Nanami just blinked at you. "Are you… okay?"

"No, I am NOT okay, Ken," you hissed, glaring at yet another woman who was eyefucking him. "They’re looking at you."

Nanami blinked. "And?"

"AND?" You almost screamed. "I AND SATORU ARE THE ONLY ONES ALLOWED TO LOOK AT YOU LIKE THAT."

Gojo wheezed. "Holy shit, you’re insane—"

You hissed at him.

Nanami, utterly unfazed, just patted your head again like a kindergarten teacher calming a feral child. "I belong to you. You know that."

That... shouldn’t have done anything to you.

But it did.

Gojo noticed immediately. His grin turned evil.

"Damn, sweetheart," he purred, slinging an arm around Nanami’s very exposed shoulders. "You’re acting like you don’t have two husbands."

"I AM AWARE," you snapped, before grabbing Nanami’s arm and glaring at every woman in a five-mile radius.

Nanami looked at the sky as if begging the universe for patience. "Are we almost back to the hotel?"

"Not fast enough," you grumbled.

Gojo just smirked, winking at one of the women eyeing Nanami. "Hey girl, you can look all you want, but only we get to touch."

"SATORU!"

And just like that, you had a new mission.

Protect Nanami. At all costs.

Even if that meant literally body-blocking him from the general public.

For the next ten minutes, you were practically shoving your loose top at Nanami, determined to restore his dignity.

"Just take it!" you huffed, trying to push it into his hands. "Let me—"

Nanami shoved it back at you. "I am not letting you walk through Ibiza at night in just a bra."

"Why not?!"

"Because it’s inappropriate."

"But it’s fine for you to be half-naked?!"

"That’s different."

"HOW?!" You narrowed your eyes and waited for him to dig himself into a hole because just now, Nanami Kento had walked into a trap all husbands detested—being proven sexist or weak.

Gojo was still laughing. "Sweetheart, let him be. He’s embracing his primal state."

"I WILL NOT LET HIM BE!" You yanked his arm like a stubborn child. "Take. The. Shirt."

Nanami just sighed harder, like he was already calculating his therapy bill. "I would rather die than let you walk around a strange country at night in nothing but a bra."

You narrowed your eyes further. "I thought you were my dark romance husband who says, ‘wear whatever you want, I can fight.’"

Gojo immediately wheezed. "Shit, Kento, R.I.P."

But before Nanami could kick him off, Gojo grabbed his own t-shirt and just yeeted it off in the middle of the street.

"Solidarity, Kento!" Gojo declared, now also bare-chested.

Now you were just standing there, sandwiched between two unfairly ripped men, blinking.

You turned to see everyone staring at what was supposed to be only yours. You could not fight this many people anytime soon.

Nanami, barely reacting, turned to Gojo with the deepest sigh of his life. "Why are you like this?"

Gojo grinned. "Look who’s talking, Mr. Eight-Pack Abs."

Nanami pinched his nose, his last brain cell disintegrating into dust. "Fine." He exhaled sharply and snatched your shirt from your grip, finally putting it on.

You, now finally winning, smirked.

Now, only Gojo was shirtless, twirling his discarded tee like a stripper on payday. "So, are we just walking back like this? ‘Cause I feel chilly."

Nanami didn’t even look at him. "Put your shirt back on, Satoru."

"Make me."

You rolled your eyes, grabbed Gojo’s shirt, and made him wear it like a mom. "I swear to God, if you both walk around practically naked, I will commit murder."

Gojo grinned, winking at you. "Oh? Kinda hot."

Nanami physically dragged him the rest of the way.

After a while of Gojo carrying you on his back, with Nanami walking behind to guard you, the three of you navigated through the crowds enveloped in Gojo’s infinity. Ahead, the 7Pines Resort loomed like a beacon of hope.

Except—

As soon as you reached the gates—

“Oh my God.” Gojo gasped, and you climbed down.

You and Nanami blinked at him in confusion.

“What?”

Gojo turned to you both, dead serious.

“This is a stealth mission.”

By all accounts, you should’ve just walked into your luxury hotel like normal people.

Instead—

“Wait,” Gojo whispered, pressing a hand to his earpiece (which did not exist).

“We’re undercover,” you nodded, eyes dead serious.

Nanami—who was 100% done with both of you—just sighed and rubbed his face. “We’re going to get arrested.”

Gojo shushed him aggressively. “Not with that attitude, Nami.”

Then, without any warning, Gojo flattened himself against a tree, moving slowly, eyes shifting left and right like he was some kind of secret agent.

You immediately followed suit, sliding up beside him.

Nanami stood there, staring at the two of you like he was seriously contemplating whether he could pretend not to know you.

You grabbed his wrist, dragging him into the nonsense.

“You’re Bond,” you whispered dead serious. “We’re your sexy sidekicks.”

“If I’m doing this, then I’m a respected businessman,” Nanami muttered, surprisingly complying.

"Fine,” Gojo hissed. “Now move before they spot us.”

The second you stepped inside the gorgeous, luxurious, marble-floored lobby—all three of you immediately dropped into a squat.

A rich, powerful trillionaire, a stoic ex-salaryman, and a 6’3” menace—all crouching like idiots behind a plant that was not nearly big enough to hide the three of you.

“This is so stupid,” Nanami muttered.

Gojo shushed him aggressively. “You’re ruining the mission.”

You squinted. “Where’s our target?”

Gojo was suddenly the kind of serious the higher-ups wished he was in meetings. “The elevator.”

Nanami whispered, "Follow me.”

Then—like a trio of highly trained spies (read: three unhinged drunk people)—you moved in sync.

Crouch-walking.

Stalking behind ridiculously expensive furniture.

Ducking behind a giant vase (which Gojo nearly knocked over).

Your Nanami’s loafers clicked against the marble, completely ruining the stealth, all because your foot size was not the same as his, making it feel like a child cosplaying an adult.

Nanami sighed in agony, watching his dignity disintegrate as he followed you barefoot.

At one point, Gojo cartwheeled behind a couch. (It was not a cartwheel; he almost got a concussion.)

You rolled behind a decorative plant.

Nanami simply walked normally, hands in his pockets.

You giggled into your hand, clinging onto their sleeves.

It didn’t help that the staff already knew you were high as a kite and actively ignored you.

And then—miraculously—you made it to the elevator without getting kicked out.

Somehow, despite the absolute circus you all just pulled, you reached the penthouse suite without being thrown out.

And that’s when the real problem started.

The second the door clicked shut, Gojo pressed you against the wall, caging you in with his arms.

His lips curled into a grin, but his eyes—God, those electric blue eyes—were dangerous.

“So, uh,” his voice dropped. “What do spies do after a mission?”

You grinned back.

“Celebratory sex,” Nanami deadpanned from behind you.

Gojo snapped his fingers. “Exactly.”

“You know,” he murmured, voice low, “I think we deserve a reward.”

Nanami, putting away your heels, exhaled slowly behind him. “We need water first.”

Gojo ignored him, and the heat in the room shifted instantly. He dipped down to press his forehead against yours.

“You look so fucking beautiful right now,” he whispered, brushing his thumb over your lips.

You shivered.

Gojo chuckled, his voice thick with amusement.

“She’s still high,” Nanami pointed out, taking off your t-shirt.

Gojo leaned closer, his lips ghosting against yours. “So am I.”

And then—

Nanami’s hand slid to your waist, warm and solid against your skin.

Your heart pounded.

Your back arched.

Then Gojo missed your mouth completely and kissed your cheek.

And then your nose.

And then somehow your eyebrow.

You snorted so hard it broke the mood entirely.

Gojo pulled back, blinking in confusion. "Did you just—are you laughing?"

"You kissed my eyebrow."

Gojo’s eyes widened in betrayal. "No, I didn’t."

Nanami, tired of your combined antics, sighed. "You did."

Then the second Gojo kissed you, it was over.

Your high-ass brain forgot everything—your name, your life, why you were even standing up—because all you could feel was warmth.

Nanami’s hands moved to your breast, kneading, drawing out a deep gasp while he bit your shoulder.

The high made everything—every touch—ten times more intense.

Gojo’s lips brushed against yours, teasing, grinning against your mouth.

And then—

Your legs gave out.

“Oh—shit—” Gojo yelped, grabbing you like a sack of potatoes.

“Are you okay?” Nanami immediately snapped to concern, but his shirtless self looked so serious that it just—

It just made you laugh.

Like really laugh.

And Gojo, the idiot, caught your giggles like a contagious disease.

“What—why are you laughing?” Nanami asked flatly, but Gojo was already bent over, wheezing, dragging you down with him.

You were giggling uncontrollably in Gojo’s arms, tears in your eyes, because none of this made sense, but it was so funny.

Nanami sighed, rubbing his temples.

The next few moments were a blur of—

Gojo kissing you like a starved man, hands greedy, palm pressed flat against the small of your back.

Nanami tilted your chin up, kissing you slow and deep, fingers dragging up your spine as Gojo pressed against your back.

All three of you collapsed onto the giant bed, a tangle of limbs and heat.

Gojo cursed under his breath when you pulled his t-shirt off, fingers dragging over his abs.

Nanami groaned when you got impatient and yanked his trousers loose.

Then—

“Wait.”

Silence.

Gojo paused mid-kiss, blinking.

You and Nanami looked up, waiting.

Gojo squinted, frowning. “Are we—” he paused. “Is this high making us extra horny?”

You blinked. “Has he never had an edible before?”

Nanami answered you both. “Yes.”

Gojo nodded. “Cool.”

Then he immediately went back to kissing you.

Nanami just shook his head and returned to leaving hickeys on your décolletage.

After some time, Gojo was grinning like a fool, straddling your waist and pressing kisses all over.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby, holy shit.”

Nanami was pressed against your back, his hot breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine.

“Are you even taking this seriously?” he muttered, but he was smirking against your skin.

Gojo smiled like an overexcited puppy. “We’re high, Kento!”

Nanami sighed, but his hand was already sliding up your thigh.

And then AGAIN—

Gojo gasped. “Oh my God—I’m in a threesome!”

Nanami froze.

You froze.

And then, like the traitor you were, you burst out laughing.

“WE’RE MARRIED, SATORU.” Nanami groaned, burying his face in your shoulder, hiding his laughter.

Gojo was giggling like an idiot, collapsing onto you.

And somehow—somehow—that giggling turned into kisses.

Soft.

Warm.

Lazy, slow, sweet.

You were all a mess, breathless and tangled, forgetting the world outside this moment.

In the soft haze of high and heat, all you could think was—

God, you loved them.

Ibiza had been a mistake.

But, holy hell, what a delightful one.

And the real honeymoon finally began.

---

Present Day, Japan

Warmth surrounded you.

Soft. Safe. Home.

You burrowed in deeper, letting yourself drift again, somewhere between sleep and waking, your mind blissfully blank. A slow, steady heartbeat thumped against your ear, and you sighed, nuzzling closer into the familiar, comfortable warmth of a fireplace.

Then something hard pressed against your lower back.

Your hazy brain barely registered it before all the pregnancy hormones you had been suppressing for months suddenly kicked the door down. A slow heat bloomed deep in your stomach, and before you could stop yourself, your hips rolled back, instinctively seeking friction.

Behind you, a slow, sharp inhale was taken against your hair. The arms around your waist tightened.

Encouraged by the response, you shifted again, pressing closer, rubbing against the firm heat.

It felt good.

Right.

Your body felt alive, sensitive in a way it hadn’t been in forever.

And then—oh. Oh.

A low, gravelly groan rumbled behind you, vibrations running down your spine.

The weight around your waist shifted, and suddenly, you were pulled flush against someone’s broad, solid chest. A large hand splayed over your belly, possessive yet reverent, while the unmistakable pressure of him aligned perfectly against the curve of your ass.

A hot exhale ghosted over your ear. "Fuck."

Your fingers clenched into the fabric you had been clutching in front of you, only to realize—

You were holding onto Nanami.

Face pressed into his neck, drooling onto his sweater.

Your body went rigid.

You wondered who Gojo was thinking of right now. Was it Nanami? Of course, it must be.

Another slow, gritted groan came from behind you. “Don’t go. I’m so sorry, baby. You’re my sun, and I won’t survive this void without you.”

Gojo’s hands moved and tightened over your sore, heavier-than-normal breasts, his face tucking against your neck as he ground against you once, just once, as if his asleep body was responding to yours on instinct.

Your stomach flipped—but not with affection.

Carefully, you started untangling yourself.

Nanami shifted first, a small frown pulling at his brows as he reached out for you in his sleep. You grabbed a pillow and shoved it in your place.

Like an idiot, he took it, pulling it to his chest with a small sigh.

A laugh tried to escape you, but you smothered it.

No. Focus.

Gojo was next. His breathing was steady—still asleep. Good.

You tried to sit up.

His arms, already firm around you, suddenly locked.

Tighter.

Jail-tight.

You sighed, pausing to wait for an opening. But he was clinging, his grip protective, securing you as if you were something precious that could slip away.

Seconds turned into minutes.

His warmth. Their warmth. Their familiar scent surrounded you.

Your eyelids grew heavy again.

And against your better judgment, you fell asleep again.

A few minutes later, you woke up to find Gojo nowhere to be seen and Nanami on the floor.

It wasn’t a surprise; how the hell were two massive men and your submarine-sized self even fitting on a couch?

By all logic, Nanami should’ve been on the floor long ago—he had been on the outside edge, after all.

Now, he was bundled up under a ridiculously heavy blanket, curled around a pillow like a koala—the one you’d shoved toward him. He must have fallen along with it. Thank God, or he would have taken you with him into the abyss.

His face was completely buried in it, soft blond strands spilling over the fabric, rising and falling with his slow, even breathing. He looked so peaceful, like a sun hidden behind storm clouds.

Like he wasn’t currently competing for the title of Captain Clueless McGee against Gojo these days.

“Don’t wake him up yet; his cursed energy needs a bit more to recharge,” came a voice from somewhere.

Yeah, like you were going to anyway.

You sighed, sitting up—luckily, no morning sickness today—and rubbed your eyes.

“Here,” a coffee mug with ‘The Strongest Pussy Eater’ and Gojo’s face was shoved close to your face.

You blinked at it, then up at Gojo, who was holding his own cup—which was yours, reading ‘Boobs Make Me Smile.’

You took your mug and placed it on the side table.

Gojo plopped himself down next to you, stretching his long limbs in a spidery way.

You stared blankly at nothing in particular, waiting for your brain cells to clock in for work.

Minutes passed.

Eventually, you picked up the coffee and took a sip.

…Butterscotch?

You frowned and took another sip to confirm.

Lo and behold.

Suspicion crept in. You peeked over the rim of your cup at Gojo, who was very obviously trying to hide his stupidly wide grin behind his own mug.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

In a voice low enough not to wake Nanami, you finally asked, “Are they yours?”

Gojo blinked, confused at first.

Then—like watching one single brain cell connect two dots—his expression slowly shifted.

Hesitantly, he replied, “He should be part of this conversation, right?”

He pointed toward Nanami, who was now halfway under the coffee table like a giant, well-insulated cockroach.

"Yeah, like you two kept me in the loop while che—" Your brain stalled.

Damn it, why did he look so cute?

Oh.

Right.

Hormones.

Definitely hormones.

Gojo was watching you, pretending he wasn’t, but his poorly hidden grin gave him away.

You cleared your throat, trying to reset your focus.

Before you could say anything, a deep, groggy voice came from the floor.

“You’re awake.”

Nanami’s voice was rough with sleep, his arms loosening on the pillow as he blinked at you, sleepily gauging your expression.

Gojo mock-stirred, rubbing his eyes like a spoiled prince. “Mmm, morning, pretty boy.”

Nanami immediately pulled his blanket over his head, obscuring his entire being, and groaned, “It’s too early for your shit.”

Gojo wasn’t deterred. “Our wife wants to know if they’re mine.”

Silence.

Nanami’s blanket lowered slightly. “…What?”

You took another sip of your butterscotch and sugar-overload disaster that should be declared a Turkish delight at this point and let out a small, unintentional hum of satisfaction. Fuck.

Gojo caught it.

His eyes gleamed as he leaned in, his voice way too smug for the morning. “Sugar cravings, huh?”

You tried to burrow into your blanket to escape the judgment.

Like a damn professor, Gojo took a very serious sip of his own coffee before announcing, “Sugar helps replenish energy and glucose levels faster.”

You glared. “I’m not gonna repeat myself. I know you can tell. From the cursed energy or whatever.”

Nanami, still half-dead on the floor, finally muttered, “Both ours.”

“Like spiritually or genetically?”

“Genetically.” He didn’t elaborate further.

You nodded, then your gaze snapped back to him. “Wait, that’s possible?”

Nanami looked caught off guard.

Gojo interjected, "Yeah, very rare. We are very lucky, baby.” He added a small chuckle, but underneath, he was sweating.

Then, folding his arm under his head, Nanami studied you carefully.

You poker-faced it.

Internally, though?

Something in your chest squeezed—a feeling you refused to name.

At least you wouldn’t have two Gojo clones harassing you for the rest of your life.

You simply hummed, grabbed your phone, and started texting people to take over arrangements at work. No way in hell were you going in today.

Nanami, satisfied with your reaction (or lack thereof), simply turned over and went back to sleep.

Gojo’s hand ghosted over your belly—a touch he didn’t complete.

You said nothing.

Instead, you stood up, stretching out the stiffness in your limbs. Gojo’s stupid grin faltered, softening into something smaller, something quieter, something so gut-wrenchingly fond it made his chest ache.

You ignored it and glanced at your phone, which was vibrating with a new text.

Yu 🐒: Hark, fair maiden! Prithee, unbar thy portal and grant us entry, for we hath arrived bearing the most fearsome of beasts—a creature of untamed spirit and claws sharper than the wit of your court jesters! Behold, the feral cat, a beast both noble and wild, hath graced us with its presence. Open thy doors, lest we be forced to parley with this tiny, hissing dragon upon thy stoop!

Yu 🐒: Pray, do not mention the scratches upon mine armor. 'Tis but a badge of honor.

Right on cue, a loud, impatient knock rattled the door. You perked up immediately.

“I got it,” you announced, already on your way.

The moment you opened the door, Haibara strolled in like he owned the place, several bags in hand, showing zero regard for personal space or the sanctity of your home.

Megumi, right behind him, handed you a tiny, squirming baby raccoon. It stretched its tiny arms toward you, and you gingerly cradled it against your chest.

“Wait—it’s albino?” You blinked, peering down at the little baby’s clean, impossibly soft fur.

Megumi wandered in. “He. And yes, at this point, you have a knack for collecting albino men.”

“I’m not albino. It’s the amount of my cursed energy you can’t even imagine that makes my hair white!” Gojo bellowed from the kitchen, slamming pancakes onto the griddle with the force of a man trying to prove he wasn’t eavesdropping. He was very invested in breakfast—or at least he wanted you to think so. But every few seconds, his eyes darted toward you, betraying his true focus: the raccoon.

Oh, the raccoon.

Because for Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, the man who could level cities with a flick of his wrist, had one singular dream: to become the Raccoon King. Or, more accurately, Raccoon Dad. He wanted to hold it, become best friends with it. He wanted to whisper sweet nothings into its tiny, masked ears and maybe teach it to steal Nanami’s ugly glasses just so he could watch Nanami searching for them, grumbling. (Little did he know that within one night, Haibara had already one-upped him on that.)

But no—there you were, cradling the raccoon like it was the most precious thing in the world. Your arms wrapped around it instinctively, protectively, swaying just slightly as you soothed it.

And that’s when Gojo’s brain short-circuited.

Because if you could hold a raccoon like that—like it was a fragile, beloved treasure—would you hold his babies like that? Would you let him hold his kids? Would you—?

Gojo’s thoughts descended into chaos.

And then, like a lead balloon, he sank.

Right into the pit of his own existential despair.

So he pouted. Hard. Stirring the pancake batter with the intensity of a man questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment. The whisk clinked against the bowl like a funeral bell, and Gojo wondered if raccoons could sense emotional turmoil.

He glanced at you again. You were still holding the raccoon.

Still swaying.

Still looking like the kind of person who could effortlessly raise a family of tiny, chaotic beings.

Gojo sighed, stirring harder.

This was fine. Everything was fine.

It was not fine.

Meanwhile, Megumi had already moved on, fully ignoring Gojo's spiral. He eyed you with thinly veiled judgment. “Why are you not dressed yet?”

You, now completely wrapped up in coddling the raccoon, hummed, “I’m taking maternity leave starting today.”

At that, Megumi stilled while Gojo internally fist-pumped.

Haibara, however, was too busy bullying Nanami.

He had just discovered Nanami sleeping halfway under the table and was now poking at his ear like a child tormenting a bear.

Nanami grunted and batted at it a few times like a mosquito before suddenly startling awake, immediately two seconds away from committing murder. “Why are you poking me?”

You stifled a giggle.

Haibara, unfazed, just grinned at him smugly as if this were the greatest joy of his life. “I dunno. Feels right.”

Nanami, who had only just woken up from his half-under-the-table depression nap, sat up, dead-eyed and exhausted, then stood and dragged himself toward the kitchen to begrudgingly help Gojo.

Haibara, satisfied, collapsed onto the couch beside you.

You started, grinning like you were about to ask for his last bite of cake. “I need a huge favor.”

Megumi sighed, already knowing where this was going. “What?”

You glanced between him and Haibara. “So,” you began, shifting slightly to accommodate your ever-growing twin-infested belly, “in my absence, since there are jackals—” You spoke louder, glaring at the two traitors in the kitchen, “—who would just love to take over the company I built from scratch given my unusual circumstances—”

Both Gojo and Nanami visibly flinched.

“—I need you and Haibara to take over in my absence.”

Megumi just stared. Haibara, thrilled, looked ready to commit war crimes.

You continued, already prepared to argue. “You don’t have to do anything major. My execs will handle the details and keep me updated, but sometimes things might require your attention. And Megumi, I know you already have your own company, and Haibara, I know you’re technically retired but still somehow more dangerous than an entire intelligence agency, but you two are the only ones I trust right now.”

You paused to let that sink in.

Megumi, without hesitation, said, “I’ll do it. Don’t worry about it.”

“Not so fast,” Haibara said, his tone dripping with that unnervingly cheerful negotiation energy.

Your stomach dropped. If Haibara was feeling negotiation-core, you were doomed. You were already out of options—ideally, you’d have gone to Nanami, but handing him such power felt like signing your own death certificate. He’d probably screw you over in the name of “love” or some other nonsense.

You turned to him, already dreading whatever ridiculous request was about to come out of his mouth.

“What’s the car privilege like, and can I have my own jet?” Haibara asked, very serious.

You exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You will have access to all executive privileges I have. And you will be compensated at my salary level.”

Megumi’s eyebrow twitched. He looked like he wanted to strangle Haibara with his bare hands.

Haibara, unfazed, asked, “How much do you make?”

“You have no shame.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “And you have even less survival instinct to ask a woman that question.”

Megumi, still seething, muttered, “She’s a trillionaire.”

Haibara shrugged. “Exactly. You were thinking it too.”

Before you could throw hands, Haibara swung an arm over Megumi’s shoulder and turned slightly, as if you weren’t right there. “I would like a minute to discuss this with my associate.”

Then, in a very serious, very confidential whisper, Haibara asked, “What’s your favorite Pokémon?”

Megumi stared at him. “How many times did you hit your head in MI6?”

Haibara smirked. “Too many to count, but you should see the others.”

Then he turned back to you, completely deadpan. “I have discussed it with my associate, and we’d like to consider your preposterous proposal.”

You rolled your eyes because, one, you had heard every word, and two, they had not discussed anything. “Great. I’ll call my CHRO and get the paperwork started.”

Haibara opened his mouth immediately, but you cut him off. “No, you cannot throw parties. Yes, you can use the AR/VR hall.”

Haibara beamed. “Pleasure doing business with you. I’ve always wanted to be a CEO. Never got to cosplay that in MI6.”

He turned to high-five Megumi, but Megumi didn’t raise his hand, so Haibara high-fived Megumi’s face instead.

As Megumi pushed Haibara off the couch, you laughed while texting your CHRO, who lived just a few floors down and would be arriving in a few minutes.

---

A few minutes later, the scent of breakfast filled the air, but you weren’t impressed.

Instead, you sat on the couch, wrapped in your rage like a blanket, one hand absentmindedly stroking the tiny albino raccoon curled up against your swollen belly. It purred, content.

Meanwhile, you?

Not content.

Your husbands—traitors, both of them—were in the kitchen, pretending they weren’t the prime targets of your wrath.

Across from you, Megumi casually sipped his coffee, every bit the Corporate Toji Hybrid he was: effortlessly powerful, composed, and completely indifferent to the tension in the room. Next to him, Haibara lounged like a cat that had just knocked over a vase on purpose, his shit-eating grin locked directly on Nanami.

Megumi had already moved on, focused entirely on the tiny albino raccoon baby sleeping against your belly.

“I left his medical notes and care instructions in there,” Megumi murmured, gesturing to the bags he’d brought. He gently petted the baby raccoon’s tiny head, his voice soft. “He’s already fed, so you don’t need to worry about that. Next feeding is at 12 PM. A few more days, then he’ll be three months old, and we can move him to other food. Call me if you need anything or want me to babysit him.”

You nodded as the CHRO finished taking pictures of the baby. “He’s so smoll and adorable.”

Then she switched back to her regular demeanor, adjusting her blazer and perking up as she took her seat just as the housekeeping staff arrived with freshly brewed coffee and a plate of neatly arranged breakfast. She nodded in thanks before turning to you with a level-headed, professional tone.

“You can’t go on leave immediately,” she stated, glancing over her tablet. “As per Japanese labor laws, maternity leave must be announced at least six to eight weeks in advance. However—” she took a sip of her coffee, narrowing her eyes at Gojo and Nanami, “—we can work something out if you can provide a doctor’s note.”

You, already prepared, slid Shoko’s note across the table. “I figured as much. This should do.”

She skimmed the document, nodding in approval. “It’s solid. Given your condition, we can argue medical necessity.” She added it to her folder, then added, “Now the real problem is the board of directors. Those idiots won’t easily turn over. Pardon my language; it’s too early.” She took another long sip of her coffee, clearly needing it.

Gojo and Nanami pretended not to hear, their focus on the breakfast spread.

You chuckled, “I know. But considering they’ve been crying for me to step down, I think they’ll be more than happy to approve my leave.”

“Not with your candidates.” She lifted her gaze, deadpan, as she gestured toward Megumi and Haibara. “No offense.”

Haibara, utterly unbothered, waved a hand dismissively, leaning back into the couch with a relaxed posture. Megumi didn’t even look up from his phone, his expression unreadable as he took another sip of his coffee, unfazed by the conversation.

Your CHRO tapped a manicured nail against the table, deep in thought. “However… I believe we could expedite things by bringing in a certain classy lawyer. Someone who can bury them in so much legal jargon about the Child Care and Family Care Leave Act that they’d have no choice but to comply.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Classy, huh? Want me to stage a little run-in?”

She glanced up from her coffee, her smirk mirroring yours. “No need. He’ll come to me. We’ve got history.”

You couldn’t help but grin. This—this—was why she was one of your most trusted allies. She wasn’t just competent; she had a knack for understanding people. She knew exactly how to pull the right strings, when to push, and when to sit back and let them walk right into her hands.

Unbeknownst to both of you, the four men in the room were watching like spectators at a tennis match, their faces a mix of horror and disbelief. Gojo and Nanami, in particular, looked like they’d just been handed a life sentence. Nanami had been quietly spiraling since Hiromi saved them on your request from going to jail again, his mind racing with the unbearable thought that you might leave them for Higuruma—calm, competent, and painfully similar to him. Meanwhile, Gojo had been one wrong word away from flinging himself off the nearest rooftop, convinced that his charm and good looks were no match for Higuruma’s “mature lawyer vibes.”

It was tragic, really. Two grown men, utterly defeated by the mere possibility of being replaced by someone who probably ironed his socks.

“Don’t worry about the board; call a meeting. I’ll take care of it,” Megumi interjected.

What board was left anyway? He and Haibara had removed all the prickly members, not that they were going to share that with the class.

“Great!” Your CHRO glanced at her watch. “Alright, it’s getting late. Once everything is finalized, we’ll move forward with the announcement. We’ll need to notify the Tokyo Stock Exchange and the Financial Services Agency, given your company’s listing.”

Then she turned to you, finishing the last sip of her coffee. “A word in private?”

“Sure.”

Your brows furrowed as you pushed yourself off the couch, but you immediately froze—the baby raccoon was determined to crawl inside your t-shirt.

You sighed, reaching out blindly to shove the fluffy menace into Gojo’s arms as he passed by.

Gojo, mid-bite into a stolen biscuit, blinked in surprise before cradling the raccoon as if it were your firstborn. The little creature immediately latched onto his shirt, climbing it like a tree.

“Traitor,” you muttered under your breath before nodding at your CHRO. “Let’s go.”

Little did you know, that was the best day of Gojo’s life as he cradled the baby in his arms.

The morning air was crisp as you stepped onto the rooftop, the city skyline buzzing below. People rushed to work or school. Your CHRO leaned against the railing, her expression unreadable.

“An investor has contacted me,” she said, her tone measured.

You crossed your arms, frowning, still unsure why she was bringing it up. “Let Megumi handle it from now.”

“That’s the problem,” she countered, watching your reaction. “They insist on meeting you personally. No exceptions.”

You exhaled sharply. Of course, they did.

“That’s not creepy at all,” you deadpanned, not at her, but at the entire concept of this mystery investor.

Your CHRO continued, unfazed. “The money is substantial. More than enough to drown out the sharks circling us right now. And…” she hesitated, then added, “He’s got a remarkable PR track record. Think ‘Bendgate’—turning PR disasters into status symbols. He’s suggesting that instead of fighting the backlash, we own it. He even thinks we frame your maternity leave as a power move rather than a retreat.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Looks like he wants to do more than just invest.”

Her lips curled slightly, impressed as always by how quickly you saw through things.

“He said—and I quote—‘I protect my assets.’”

She studied your reaction. “So, if nothing else, he’s definitely planning to keep his investment safe. And if that means getting us out of negative publicity, we might as well let him.”

Your fingers drummed against your arm as you mulled over the idea. It was a good move—maybe even an excellent one. But the way this investor was approaching it—insisting on you, personally—set off more alarms than you’d like.

Still, you were never one to dismiss a game just because the opponent seemed strong.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally said, then shot her a sharp glance. “Now go.”

Your CHRO grinned knowingly but didn’t push further. She nodded and followed you back inside.

Back in the living room, Haibara immediately pulled you into a suffocating hug, taking your leave with enthusiasm.

Megumi, standing beside him, simply reached out and ruffled your hair. You glared up at him, swatting his hand away, but he just smirked in response.

And then just as they were about to leave, Haibara turned back with a-too bright for morning-grin.

“Oh, by the way—say hello to your new neighbors.”

Your entire body tensed.

“What?”

But before you could demand answers, Haibara and Megumi were already gone.

Nanami and Gojo were visibly frozen.

Gojo’s jaw hung slightly open, as if he were processing the worst possible outcome.

Nanami, on the other hand, looked like he was seriously debating throwing himself off the balcony.

After a beat of silence, you closed the door.

You didn’t say a word.

You simply went straight to the shower.

Meanwhile, in the background, Nanami was already deep into an argument with the housekeeping staff about something probably insignificant—because, as had been established long ago, you were not socially extroverted enough to ask them for anything, and Gojo sure as hell wasn’t responsible enough to handle it.

So, by default, it was Nanami’s job.

And judging by the increasing frustration in his tone, he was acutely aware of this injustice.

---

By the time you finally lowered yourself into a chair at the dining table, breakfast was already waiting—your favorite meal, prepared with precision, the portions adjusted to what your body could currently tolerate.

The scent hit first: warm, familiar, comforting.

And yet, your stomach twisted.

Gojo slid a glass of milk beside your plate, his voice deliberately light. “Gotta keep those bones strong, mama.”

You stared at the glass.

Your face remained blank, but deep inside, you were already dry-heaving in spirit.

Milk. Plain, disgusting, childhood-trauma-inducing milk.

The sheer audacity of this man.

In all the years of your relationship, not once had you willingly consumed a glass of milk. Not once.

Nanami, oblivious to your mental betrayal arc, set a peeled orange next to your plate—a habit he’d developed after his Ph.D.-level pregnancy research phase. “Eat slowly,” he advised, watching you carefully as he took a seat across from you.

You stabbed your fork into your food. The tension was suffocating.

You chewed quietly, the atmosphere thick with unspoken words. They were waiting for you to say something—anything—but you didn’t. You just kept staring at the glass of milk, trying not to grimace. Honestly, you didn’t care if anyone called you a toddler; you absolutely hated plain milk. It tasted so disgusting that you felt like throwing up every time, and it brought back memories of your mom trying to force-feed it to you.

Everything felt awkward, and the housekeepers were eyeing you with sympathy, like a zoo animal under observation.

Gojo, who had never handled prolonged silence well, fidgeted. “Do you... feel okay today?”

You looked at him, then at Nanami, and finally back at your plate.

“Fine,” you muttered.

It was a lie.

But it was also a functional answer.

The relief on their faces was immediate—like you had just spared them from the gallows.

They had no idea.

Because inside you, the twins were awake.

And they were moving.

Your hand subtly pressed against your stomach as you felt a now-familiar pressure beneath your ribs.

Like a second heartbeat thrumming beneath your skin.

You swallowed thickly.

Neither Nanami nor Gojo noticed. They were too focused on watching you eat, too distracted by their own guilt.

But then a tiny whine sounded from beneath the table.

You blinked, looking down to find the baby raccoon furiously trying to climb your leg.

Your heart cracked open.

You had read somewhere that baby raccoons did this specifically to get their mother’s attention.

But you couldn’t bend over under the table, not with the ever-expanding horror that was your current body. So Gojo, sensing your dilemma, reached down and scooped up the tiny menace.

The raccoon, immediately noticing Nanami, turned full feral.

Before anyone could react, he launched himself onto Nanami’s sweater, claws sinking in as he scrambled up like a tiny, aggressive mountaineer.

Nanami jerked, startled.

The raccoon kit, small but packed with the kind of raw, chaotic energy that only an orphaned, two-month-old menace could wield, had reached his final destination—Nanami’s head.

Perched like a crown atop the golden locks, the little beast surveyed his kingdom with an air of unearned confidence. Then, with the audacity of someone who had never known consequences, he latched onto Nanami’s hair and pulled.

Hard.

A sharp inhale. A barely restrained flinch. A flash of sheer suffering crossed Nanami’s face before it was promptly buried under his usual look of long-suffering exhaustion.

"…Get him off, Satoru," he said, his voice calm but teetering on the edge of homicide. "It hurts."

Gojo, who had been waiting for this moment his entire life, was nearly vibrating with glee.

"Why would I do that when he’s clearly bonded with you?" Gojo cooed, shaking a plastic container of raccoon-safe treats like he was summoning a beast. "Come here, little guy. Look, I got the good stuff~!"

The raccoon did not come.

Instead, the raccoon opened his mouth and started chewing on Nanami’s hair.

You, composed as ever, lifted your cup to your lips, the picture of grace despite the absolute clownery unfolding right in front of you. Your hands trembled with the effort of keeping a straight face, but you held firm, fighting for your life not to laugh (that would not be very nonchalant of you).

Very nonchalant. Unbothered. Above it all.

Nanami was none of these things.

With the measured patience of a man who had seen death and returned more disappointed than scared, he reached up, pried the raccoon from his scalp, and held him out like an HR complaint. The kit, dangling from his firm grip, wiggled his tiny limbs in protest.

"He needs a name,” he mused, just as Gojo immediately snatched the baby from Nanami’s grasp and cradled him like a long-lost son.

"Say less," Gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling with the raw, unchecked power of a man who had never been stopped from making bad decisions. He grasped your shoulder, deadly serious. "Feral Slay."

A beat of silence followed.

"You’re never naming anything. Ever," Nanami stated with the firm finality of a judge handing down a life sentence.

"Okay, okay, fine," you said, waving a hand before Gojo could start rattling off worse options. You turned to the raccoon, tilting your head. "He kinda looks like a... Bean. No, wait—Clout Save."

Gojo stared at you, horrified. "Clout Save?"

"Clout Save."

"Clout Save."

"CS for short," you added helpfully.

Gojo dragged a hand down his face. "You can’t just name him like he’s some little meow meow—"

"His name is Takahashi the ETA."

Both you and Gojo turned slowly to look at Nanami.

Nanami, straightening his sweater cuffs, exuded an air of absolute finality. "Takahashi is respectable. It suits him. ETA stands for Executive Trash Associate."

The raccoon, now named Takahashi-Clout Save-Feral Slay (depending on who you asked), chirped happily and shoved his tiny face into Gojo’s chest, burrowing close.

Except he was not actually burrowing; he was looking for skin.

Once he found it, he bit Gojo, who yelped and put him back on the table, rubbing his neck.

The baby immediately ran toward you.

And that’s when you realized he was in love with you.

Oh, not in a pet way. No, no. The baby raccoon, for reasons known only to himself and whatever god oversaw creatures of chaos, had decided that you were his one true love.

Your fate was sealed the moment you fed him milk.

"You’re his mom now," Gojo declared, delighted.

Nanami was hiding a smile behind his mug.

The raccoon, completely serious, squeaked and nuzzled closer to you, heart and soul dedicated to his cause.

Except for the fact that, beneath your ribs, your unborn child shifted again.

This time, it hurt, and your face twitched.

Nanami saw.

Gojo saw.

Their amusement faded instantly.

But you, determined to keep your composure, simply reached for the glass of milk—

And slid it across the table.

Towards Gojo.

Without a word.

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to protest. But he didn’t.

Instead, he just took the glass.

And drank.

Because if there was one unspoken rule in this house—

It was that they would have to do anything for your forgiveness, and you wanted to test that theory.

You spent most of the day curled up on the couch, flipping through a book, deliberately ignoring how they hovered like ghosts of their own making.

Nanami busied himself in the kitchen, reorganizing the medicine cabinet so that your prenatal vitamins sat front and center—impossible to miss, impossible to ignore.

Gojo, restlessly, moved in and out of the room, each time bringing something new—first, a blanket. Then, pillows. Then, a heating pad, which he placed beside you with careful hands, his voice soft.

"For your back," he murmured, stepping away as soon as he saw the distinct lack of response.

You did not acknowledge him.

You did not acknowledge any of them.

Except, at one point, you finally shifted—moving toward the new-looking foot massager sitting in the corner.

And like a cursed spirit sensing weak prey, Gojo materialized.

"Let me help," he said, already fiddling with the controls.

You narrowed your eyes.

This was your favorite part.

Gadgets were your thing. You were the tech CEO.

Was he mansplaining?

A slow inhale.

A calculated exhale.

You were two seconds from walking away when something caught your eye. Something... off.

Your gaze narrowed at his head. "Why is this video call enabled?"

Silence.

Gojo’s hand froze mid-button press.

Nanami, standing by the counter with Takahashi in his arms, went perfectly still—then, very deliberately, took a step back, adjusting his grip on the raccoon as if he were getting comfortable to watch something catastrophic unfold. Something he’d warned Gojo about.

Gojo, caught like a rat in a cage, let out a nervous laugh. "Ahh... well... you know, in case of emergencies—"

You stared at him.

He sweated.

Then, you looked at the camera angle.

It was positioned near your foot.

If you ever used this thing, all your fifty double chins and ginormous stomach would make a guest appearance on whatever poor sap you graced with your face.

You blinked.

Gojo took a step back.

Nanami—who had stayed silent this entire time—took Takahashi’s tiny paw and slowly high-fived it, as if they were both watching history in the making.

You ignored him and sighed in relief when the machine began working on your swollen feet.

---

You didn’t realize what day it was until Gojo set a small box in front of you at lunch.

You stared at it.

His fingers drummed against the table, uncharacteristically nervous. "Just… something we got a while ago. For today."

Nanami exhaled. "It’s Valentine’s Day."

And you—

You laughed.

Before you even fully processed the words, before your mind could catch up to your mouth, your body rejected the notion so violently that it left you breathless, doubled over in sheer, uncontrollable mirth.

"Who gives a shit?"

Valentine’s Day? Valentine’s Day?

You had lost track of dates entirely. You had spent months alone, unheard, unseen. A single holiday didn’t matter.

Your laughter twisted into something raw, something ugly, something just shy of manic.

Then your eyes flicked to them.

And they looked...

Genuinely hurt??

A moment of disbelief cracked through your amusement. Since when did men start caring about things like this? Especially after ignoring you on your anniversary—a day you had actually built with them.

Your laugh pitched higher, bubbling over again.

Confused? Disbelieving? Maybe just psychologically broken? Unhinged? Who the hell knew anymore?

Gojo leaned forward, blue eyes searching yours. "We know we messed up. We know you don’t forgive us yet. And we’re not expecting you to."

Nanami’s voice, steady as always, followed. "But we want to do better. Every day. Whether you believe us or not, we’ll prove it."

Your chest tightened.

Your fingers twitched, but you didn’t reach for the box.

You didn’t push it away, either.

Gojo took that as permission and nudged it closer, his fingers brushing against yours. "Come on, open it."

A sigh slipped through your lips—quiet, almost reluctant. And then, finally, you lifted the lid.

Your breath caught.

A Canon EOS R1, the latest mirrorless DSLR. Pristine build. Four lenses—RF 100-500mm f/4.5-7.1L IS USM, RF 24-70mm f/2.8L IS USM, TS-E 50mm F2.8 L Macro. High-end, thoughtful, expensive as hell.

This wasn’t just an apology gift—this was specific.

They had remembered. Somehow, through all their fuck-ups and negligence, they had still managed to retain one crucial piece of information—your preferred camera brand.

Your fingers grazed the smooth body, and something stirred in your chest.

It had been so long.

Too long.

And—before you could stop yourself—you started word vomiting.

"First of all, this lens is unnecessary." You pointed at one. "I only take portraits. Most of the time, the subject is close to me, and if it’s a stray cat, then—okay, fine, I’d use a zoom lens. But even then, the cat would run away before I could switch the damn thing, so I used to walk around with a zoom lens anyway. Then again, this new model is way faster, sharper—and it also has better pet eye focus, so Clout can be in his element without me having to hold him down and still end up with shaky photos—”

You looked up and stopped.

They were smiling.

Like fools.

Like absolute, pathetic fools.

Your frown deepened. Why?

Gojo snapped out of his daze and scratched the back of his head, grinning. "We, uh—"

"We don’t really know much about this stuff," he admitted, shrugging. "But we know you love it. And we thought maybe, y’know..." He gestured vaguely. He was getting flustered because it was the most you’d spoken to him after months, and you hadn’t berated him.

Nanami, always the one to articulate better, leaned forward. "We thought you could take maternity photos. If you wanted. Takahashi’s too."

You hadn’t even thought about that.

You wanted to.

You really, really did.

Your grip on the camera tightened, but you fought the warmth creeping into your chest, resisting the ridiculous impulse to let them see that they had done something right.

You glanced between them. "But you don’t even know how to use this, do you?"

Gojo, pleased as hell, grinned wider. "Nope."

Nanami sighed, patient. "No, but we can learn if… you’re willing to teach..."

Your lips twitched.

You didn’t outright accept their gift, but you didn’t reject it either.

And they saw it.

The way you lingered over the camera. The way your fingers drifted to adjust the settings, the way your expression softened—just a fraction—as you tested the weight in your hands.

They took it as a win.

---

Thirty minutes later, your laptop sat open in your home office, Behance boards filling the screen—soft, dreamy maternity shoots, golden hour lighting, flowy dresses—

And then, a sharp left turn into gothic drama.

Dark veils. Heavy shadows. The Morticia Addams aesthetic. For some reason, your mind went there. The twins kicked softly, and you took that as agreement.

Your fingers moved with purpose—envisioning details.

Clout Save blissfully chewed the corner of your screen. You didn’t even bother stopping him. You had given up on that battle long ago.

Nanami noticed first.

He set a plate of cut fruit beside you, silent for a moment. Then he asked, "Need anything for the shoot?"

He was trying hard not to remember how he used to sit in this very room, hands shaking, drowning in thoughts he refused to name. How, after you had disappeared, he had spent hours here, alone—desperate, unraveling, harming himself, dangerously close to doing something irreversible.

But you were here now.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t still terrified you’d disappear again.

You hesitated, then barely mumbled, "A few things."

Nanami exhaled, slow and careful, keeping his voice light. "Prepare a list. Let’s leave in an hour. Do you want clothes or other things too? Like something for Takahashi or..." He paused, and then—softly, deliberately—he dropped the N-word.

"The nursery."

Your hands froze over your keyboard.

Your entire body stilled.

You squinted at your screen, refusing to make eye contact with him.

The nursery.

That plague you had been actively avoiding.

Your teeth clenched.

Fine. Fine.

Megumi hadn’t called, which meant things on his end were fine. You had nothing else to do anyway.

"Fine," you said, your tone final. "But I will drive."

---

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo, pacing in the other room, had his phone pressed to his ear.

"Is mania common in pregnancy?" he demanded, his voice serious. "We told her it was Valentine’s Day, and she just started laughing—like, actually losing her mind, saying ‘who gives a shit.’"

A pause.

"She never reacted like this before. She used to be busy with work, but she still planned dinner dates, even went overboard with gifts sometimes—"

Shoko, on the other end, giggled.

"I’d laugh too, bro."

Then the line cut.

Gojo stood there, scowling.

---

Forty-five minutes later, nothing fit your six-months-pregnant-with-twins body.

The rest of your clothes were too formal for the amount of walking you’d have to do.

So—without a word—you stole Gojo’s sweatshirt and Nanami’s overcoat.

The fit was loose, but you looked good. Expensive. Like some hot tomboy off-duty CEO.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

Smirked.

Then grabbed your keys and left the house, leaving the housekeeping staff to stay until you returned.

---

The Koenigsegg Jesko Absolut purred to life as you slid into the driver’s seat. There was a reason you hadn’t driven your favorite car since you got pregnant, and the men were about to learn it the hard way.

Gojo got in next to you, pouting. He had wanted to drive.

The fucker had always had his eyes on your cars, but you were no longer letting him touch them.

You’d usually just give in and let him drive, even though driving was something that soothed you. It gave you a small feeling of being in control and provided that little adrenaline hit in your otherwise overbooked, responsibility-packed life.

And Nanami, in the back, was even more annoying. The dude was obsessed with playing chauffeur, insisting on picking you up and dropping you off everywhere like some kind of overprotective GPS. Meanwhile, your cars were just chilling at home, collecting dust and probably crying from neglect.

The only ‘action’ they got was either when they were being maintained or when Gojo got Ijichi to drive him to his missions in your sweet babies while he lounged in the back like some prince.

Not today.

Clout Save was left at home, much to his dismay. You still didn’t have a seatbelt for him.

Then, without warning—

You shifted gears and slammed the gas pedal.

The car shot forward like a goddamn rocket.

It wasn’t just a car; it was the fastest production car in the world. A machine designed to dominate, to devour pavement, to leave everything in the dust—including common sense and self-preservation.

And you were behind the wheel.

Six months pregnant. With horror twins.

Gojo’s entire soul left his body.

Nanami, who had been reaching for his seatbelt, yanked it as if it were the only thing standing between him and a fiery death.

"Okay—okay—SLOW DOWN—"

You ignored him.

The engine roared, the car sliced through the streets, and the world blurred into streaks of color as you weaved—flawlessly, effortlessly, elegantly—through traffic.

Wind whipped through the open windows, tangling your hair, teasing at the loose collar of Gojo’s sweatshirt.

And Gojo was staring.

It wasn’t just the speed—it was the way you drove.

One hand steady on the wheel, the other shifting gears with Formula One ease. Your foot pressed down on the accelerator like you were testing fate itself, and you smirked—eyes bright, adrenaline humming in your veins, completely, utterly in your element.

Gojo swallowed.

Nanami gripped the door handle, jaw tight, knuckles white.

Gojo leaned sideways, his voice barely above a choked whisper.

"I hate that I find this hot."

Nanami was thinking the same thing.

Unfortunately, terror outweighed attraction.

"Slow down," Nanami snapped, his tone edged with something dangerously close to panic. "You. Are. Pregnant."

You increased speed.

The car growled beneath you, the road stretching open like a runway to insanity.

"WHO TAUGHT YOU HOW TO DRIVE?!" Gojo shouted, his voice cracking as you narrowly dodged a car, slipping through a gap that shouldn’t have existed.

You smirked.

Shifted gears.

Glanced at him through half-lidded eyes, as if this was the most natural conversation in the world.

"Toji."

Gojo turned ashen.

Nanami let out the longest, slowest sigh of his life.

"Of course he did."

---

Everything was almost fine.

Until an oncoming truck.

A massive, hulking beast of steel and certain death.

Nanami and Gojo braced themselves, hearts hammering in their ribs, the realization sinking in like cold, hard gravity.

This is it.

She’s going to crash.

They were both yelling now, overlapping, frantic—

"SLOW DOWN—"

"ARE YOU EVEN SEEING THAT—"

You smiled, innocently.

As if you held a secret—like you were dancing on the edge of something dangerous and laughing about it.

Then—

In one smooth, impossible motion, you twisted the wheel, shifted gears seamlessly, and threaded the car through the narrow gap—slipping past the truck by mere centimeters.

Gojo and Nanami felt their lives flash before their eyes.

They narrowly escaped the truck, with only centimeters to spare.

The pinnacle of modern machinery stabilized.

The only sound in the car was the steady hum of the engine.

The men were panting.

Shaken.

Physically unharmed, but spiritually wrecked.

—finally—

Nanami snapped.

"What the hell was that?!"

You didn’t even blink.

Instead, you smiled.

"You both wanted to bring me back."

Your voice was smooth, effortless, razor-sharp with something dangerously crazy.

"So this is what you’ve brought back."

They stared at you, still too stunned to speak.

Then—casually, effortlessly, unbothered—you leaned back against the seat, adjusting the loose sleeves of Gojo’s sweatshirt, shifting your grip on the wheel as if you were born in this car.

And added—

"Besides, didn’t you promise you’d protect me and shit?"

The smirk widened.

"So protect."

Then, as if nothing had happened at all, you parked inside the mall.

Effortless. Precise. Clean.

Like you hadn’t just defied death at 500 km/h (310 mph).

Gojo and Nanami didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t dare look at each other.

You got out of the car.

Tossed the keys in your palm.

Stretched—unbothered, untouchable, glowing with that reckless, intoxicating fire in your eyes.

Then you turned, taking them in.

Pale. Silent. Processing their survival.

"Are you two coming or not? I might need some ‘protecting’ from the salespeople. And just so you know, I didn’t bring any money or have a phone, so you both will be paying for everything."

Nanami exhaled slowly, forcing composure back into his bones.

Gojo ran a shaky hand through his disheveled hair.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them could.

Wordlessly—like men who had seen God and Death shake hands—they got out of the car.

And followed you inside.

---

Bonus

In your old bedroom later that evening,

"You have to accept that I’m the bigger menace," Gojo said, watching as the raccoon kit attempted to wrestle a sock off of Nanami’s foot with the tenacity of a gremlin.

Nanami glanced up from his book. "He tried to suffocate you in your sleep."

"Okay, rude; I think he just likes climbing on my handsome face," Gojo shot back, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You, who had walked into the room just in time to hear this, exhaled sharply and turned around, leaving the room in a huff.

Gojo called after you, "Oh my God, you’re jealous—"

You slammed the door behind you.

ETA Takahashi-Mochi Blanc-Sir Snowdrop the Pale-Clout Save-Feral Slay chirped happily, victorious.

---

Memes Haibara bombarded you with about your mentally insane albino criminal.

Raccoon Headcanons, (I know one of these isn't one)

A/N: So. The raccoon needs a name. Since y’all are unhinged, I’m leaving it up to you.

Bonus 🔥 Poll: What would you do if Gojo installed a video call-enabled foot massager in your house? A) Use it for evil. B) Yeet it out the window. C) Let Gojo suffer. D) Accept that privacy is a myth. What’s your theory on the investor? Business move or secret villain?? Also, a lil headcanon: Did Banana Man (Haibara) see Reader in Ibiza, or was it a parallel mission? Discuss. Share your own headcanons about this story with me please, I beg.

Another Alt Universe for this story - Glass House (Tumblr/Ao3)

Next chapter 16 (alt ending 2.7) - Placeholder: This Should Have Been Love (Tumblr/Ao3) :P

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz @thebumbqueen @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

Taglist Open.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

I think the thing that's fueling my Dead Boy Detectives fic series is that almost every major character has had some sort of interesting/unhinged interaction with every other main character. Like beyond the incredibly interesting/fleshed-out relationships between the main four detectives we have examples like:

1) Cat King and Monty forest interaction where the Cat King toys with Monty in order to both protect/play with Edwin

(Which, by the way, the Cat King knew about Monty before the forest scene when he shapeshifted into him by the lighthouse. So, like, did he know what Monty's secret identity was then and just straight up didn't say a word because he felt like it? Or did he figure it out later?)

2) Jenny straight up meeting Charles and Edwin only after being possessed by a demon and literal minutes before her shop gets blown up leading to the iconic "you were about to leave those boys forever now you're going to risk your life to save them" line

3) Jenny only meeting David to sing Belinda Carlisle/threaten him with a meat cleaver and get her SECOND near-death experience

4) Hell, on the meat cleaver POV: first and only time Niko meets the Cat King it's to threaten him with a meat cleaver and clock him for his interactions with Edwin (same goes for Crystal even though it's her second time meeting him)

5) Any scene Charles has one-on-one with Monty plus the bit on the sidewalk where Monty straight-up bypasses him for Edwin and Charles just goes "I was polite, wasn't I?" while the girls are clearing him away for Edwin and Monty to flirt

6) Night Nurse and Kashi. Everything about those interactions are *chef's kiss.*

7) Same goes for Night Nurse and Niko. Their dynamic is so fucking good and leads to the fantastic "reading comprehension" bit.

8) And from a more devastating/angsty POV, the scene with Esther and Monty in episode 5 where Monty feels more like a teenager than any other character in the cast. And as much as Esther is a camp queen in that scene, it's also terrifying because that iron cane is against Monty's chest and she literally ripped him apart episodes before that and she's going to kill him again next episode with that very cane and your brain is just bouncing between laughing at the "it's honestly nbd" line and going on red alert because get the fuck out of there, Monty, you're going to die at her hands-

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Starting a Yellowjackets tag!

I want to get my mind off of things so: If you want, answer any or all of the questions below and tag 10 people (or however many you want) who also might want to share! I would love to see what you guys have to say!

1. Are you team Rational or Supernatural?

2. Who is your favorite teen timeline character? Favorite adult timeline character?

3. What is your favorite needledrop?

4. What is your favorite ship?

5. What is your favorite episode?

6. Who do you want the Antler Queen to be?

7. What is your favorite scene in the entire series?

8. A theory or prediction you have about Season 3?

9. Which character do you relate to the most, and why?

10. What is the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of Yellowjackets?

Bonus:

11. What’s your most controversial Yellowjackets take?

—

Here’s mine!

1. I am mostly Team Rational because I love the way this show depicts trauma but I also love seeing the supernatural side of things through the survivors’ eyes if that makes sense.

2. Natalie in the teen timeline because I love her compassion and softness underneath the front she puts on. Lottie in the adult timeline because I love her internal battle with herself and how afraid she is of her own mind. Misty is a close second in the adult timeline!

3. “Cornflake Girl” playing while Nat sees the mossy tree for the first time, Callie seeing the Adam Martin driver’s license in the barbecue, and Shauna eating Jackie’s ear. It just goes so perfectly with everything that’s going on (especially the elevated piano while Nat and Travis are scaling the mountain and the lyrics while Shauna takes the bite!)

4. LottieNat is my favorite ship I can’t help it Nat and Lottie are my favorite characters so having them together is a dream (TaiVan, JackieShauna, and TravNat are up there, too).

5. 1x09 “Doomcoming” is just amazing and captures everything I love about Yellowjackets. I love when they let the girls go batshit crazy, hoping we get more Doomcoming vibes in S3.

6. I want the Antler Queen to be Natalie because that would show a true descent for her in the Wilderness from being the most morally grounded one to the leader of the group at their most unhinged and primal. But honestly I think that Shauna might be the AQ after all…

7. I think the Jackie-eating scene is the best in the entire show. The “Climbing Up the Walls” song choice, the bacchanal feast flashes as a way of coping with the horror of what they’re doing, seeing them go fully feral for the first time, it’s such a well crafted scene.

8. I know this probably won’t happen but I’m just going to throw it out there that Cabin Daughter is alive and she will be revealed to have been Javi’s “friend”!

9. I relate to Shauna the most because I also admittedly have a bit of an obsessive/intense personality and I, too, internalize my emotions to a very unhealthy degree sometimes. I also grew up being in love with my childhood best friend who is very, very much like Jackie (and now we have been dating for 7 years!)

10. Mine is a mix of going to a Yellowjackets panel and sitting like 5 feet from the showrunners, doing everything in my power to score early screening tickets to Heretic and Companion, and pretending I was sick so I could go home early from work the day that the S3 trailer came out.

11. The male characters on this show get too much hate🫢 I like Travis, Jeff, Kevyn, and Walter (even though his introduction and storyline are rushed and forced). I don’t like them more than the female characters, but I like them nevertheless and appreciate their contributions to the plot.

No pressure tags! (I’m tagging 15 bc I feel like it) @before-it-felt-like-a-sin @baked-potatoes-rule @jackiesnats @deerest-deer @whodoesnataliehave @stilllsage @fairytwles @glitterfairy-21225 @lesbianforlottie @tr4vnat @lauraleetaylor @cassioo @natsboygirlfriend @soapyjackets @pinkkkkat @natgf123 +literally anyone else who wants to!