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satorhime · 2 years

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off the table ˚₊· gojo satoru + nanami kento. ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : f!reader, explicit smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex (gojo fingers you in a restaurant), slight!humiliation, fingering (f!receiving), spit kink, pet names, hints at a threesome, pet names, this fic is so unserious i love it ･｡･ w.c. 6.8k. ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : being in public, at a table full of colleagues will not stop gojo satoru from putting his hands under your dress. ໒꒰ྀི ⸝⸝⸝⸝ ꒱ྀིა ⊹ this idea was born from staring at gojo’s pretty fingers and is still one of my favorite fics that i have ever written hope u all enjoy <333

gojo satoru had deactivated his infinity.

no one else noticed, of course. they didn’t notice the subtle shift in the atmosphere. didn’t feel the tiny rift in the fabric of space being snapped back into place. or the defeated howl of an enemy of the six eyes kicking rocks because they’d missed the opportunity to clobber the insufferable idiot over the head. most would only realize it if they tried to strike him and the blow landed, or if he gave one of his enthusiastically unwanted hugs and you felt the warmth of his biceps enveloping you.

though you’d need a top university professor to understand even the basic science behind his inherited, limitless powers, you could never miss it.

you, an empath, also knew this meant trouble. gojo usually wore the technique like one would a warm fur coat during a blizzard. a second skin, if you may.

so yes, this definitely meant trouble.

but for who?

all sorcerers ( excluding beloved students ) operating from the tokyo and kyoto campuses have been summoned to a secure location for a meeting of utmost importance. the meeting of utmost importance? principle gakuganji’s birthday dinner at a michelin star, rooftop restaurant. you have to admit, the paid night off from exorcising curses is nice and the place is exquisitely beautiful. romantic, warm lighting illuminates dark oak tables and lush zen gardens. minimalistic, artful plates are served at a price that would make your credit card read the check and weep tears of debt.

the setting is pleasant and quiet with sorcerers you could almost call friends drinking responsibly and chatting comfortably. or it would’ve been quiet, if not for your boyfriend laughing himself hoarse at the thought of the higher-ups bribing sorcerers with a night off just to get someone to attend a party for the unlikable principle of the kyoto campus. he laughed himself into the other sorcerers ignoring him completely, so now his attention is completely on you.

needless to say, you’ve been feeling wary the entire time. you know that when he didn’t have something to stimulate that big brain of his— especially during events like this— he’s a complete hellion to society. and society, in this scenario, is always you.

oh, no.

it’s funny how you already know what he’s up to. it’s even funnier how, at first, he kept you at an arm’s length, in fear of you orbiting too close and seeing too much. now, you know things about him. sickeningly sweet details like his favorite dessert, his greatest fear, the brand of shampoo he uses.

and most importantly, his nastiest fucking kink.

gojo satoru’s guidebook to public sex, rule #1:

getting caught will not stop me from busting a nut.

when you are flesh and blood’s closest thing to a heavenly being, there are many things you can get away with. there are many things that apply to normal human men that do not apply to gojo satoru. like not being allowed to show his love for his lady whenever and wherever he pleases.

after all, who the fuck is going to stop him?

not you, his pretty angel.

and certainly not the higher-ups, those cowards.

there is no secret that you both lack decorum. you, by association. and gojo, by nature. two heathens so in love with fucking each other that everyone knows to give the two of you a wide berth whenever the signs are there. you’ve lost count of how many scandalized stares you’ve received when he warps into a meeting and the first thing he does is sweep you off your feet for a hungry kiss, large hands digging prints into the soft skin of your ass. you beat against him then, berating him about propriety and professionalism while gojo grins like a lovestruck idiot, tells you to scold him more because it’s so fucking hot when you’re annoyed with me.

he knows that later, you’ll be begging to be fucked into a limp back in his office. he doesn’t even flinch when yaga walks in without knocking, gojo rolling his eyes back while you scold him with i-told-you-so’s, calling him a freak; nasty and ridiculous for letting the principle see you in such a position. a kinkshame that rushes straight to his dick because he’s too far gone to care when he’s got you spread out on his desk with your jujutsu uniform bunched all the way up around your tits, cock shoved so far up your cramped little cunt that if yaga squinted, he’d be able to see the imprint in your stomach.

rule #2 is an addition to his handbook written in your feminine, flowery script yourself:

gojo satoru is not to be trusted in public.

that you, yourself, is not to be trusted either. after all, the man you’re dating is thrilling. he excites you and you’re powerless when it comes to your desire, your love for him. you try your best to be the voice of reason in the relationship, the pretty angel on his shoulder attempting to convert him to a holier path, but at the end it only takes one lazy smirk and a honeyed pet name to get you to drop your panties for him.

right now, all of the signs are there.

his knee bounces against the outer part of your thigh like an impatient, antsy child. he hasn’t made a snide comment in the last five minutes, world record. and when you glance up at him, his glossed lips are curled into one of those infamous, shit-eating smirks of his that seems permanent on his face like a terrible, womanizing affliction. it could be mistaken for classic behavior, but you know better than that.

“don’t even think about it, gojo satoru,” you hiss in warning under your breath. a vein appears at the temple of your brow as you notice an affronted expression cross his features, turning to you with his mouth drawn in a surprised oval shape.

“ehhhh, what do you mean?” gojo drawls out the question in a lilt, his tone chipper as he leans into your personal space. your traitorous heart flips at his close proximity, softening when he slings an arm around the back of your chair. relaxed and ridiculously attractive in the way he toys with the wisps of baby soft hair gathered at the nape of your neck.

“you know what i mean, you idiot-” you roll your eyes to hide the way they flutter, shivering as his fingertips graze over your skin. gojo massages gentle circles into a tension spot on your neck, his version of fattening you up for the inevitable kill of whatever he has planned. you fight the urge to whimper because jujutsu sorcerers are born tense, because spa days are rare when you’re knee deep in curse goo day in, day out.

clearing your throat before you can get carried away, you brush your hair over one shoulder and smoothly swat his hand down. “move your hand, satoru. i know what you’re up to.”

thankfully, he does.

“up to what?” his head tilts on the question, and you shoot a glare at him before turning back to the menu you’re both sharing. because what sickening, pda-heavy couple uses two menus? “these hags are boring, baby.” he blows air into his cheeks, sighing hard; baiting you like a fish. you don’t buy this innocent act one bit, though, reaching up to deflate the cute puff of his cheeks with the sharp acrylic of your finger. popping him like a big, stupid balloon.

“i know your game,” you tell him, shaking your head. the game of disarming you. the proverbial removal of the angel from his shoulder by turning all soft like strawberry kikufuku melting in the summer to get what he wants. it almost always works. that boyish charm that coaxes you into shaded car parks and empty classrooms.

“what game?” he asks, relocating. his palm slips underneath the table faster than your eyes can register, long digits splayed out on your thigh in a possessive spread. right below the hem of the tiny little number he bought for you.

“your hand, gojo,” you remind him.

“in marriage? i thought you’d never ask,” he smarts off, sarcastically heartfelt as he touches a hand to his chest before he taps your nose. it feels condescending. “it’s not uncommon, you know, so don’t be afraid. men find it attractive when their women take charge. isn’t that right, nanamin?” he slingshots the question, loud in your ear, bent forward to get a good look at the ex-salaryman seated on the other side of you dressed in an impeccably cut designer three-piece. you startle a bit since you’d forgotten he was there.

“frankly,” nanami sniffs, adjusting the knot of his tie, “i’m not listening to whatever idiotic conversation you’re having, gojo-san.” he replies bluntly, clearly listening to the idiotic conversation. you watch as the sorcerer flicks a piece of lint from his shirt but he pauses after a moment, sharp eyes cutting to your direction. he inclines his head in a brief, but polite bow. “no offense to you, miss.”

ever the gentleman. unlike someone.

“nanami-san, it’s okay-”

“blech,” gojo mimics gagging, finger stuck in his mouth and everything like a teenager being forced onto a family trip. “you’re no fun, as usual.” but nanami is back to thoroughly ignoring the two of you.

“but you’re fun, aren’t you?” he purrs, turning his sly attention back to you. the fingers that were previously drumming an idle beat squeezes the flesh of your thigh hard, hard enough that his nails dig in to cause a twinge of pain. you suck in a breath, anticipation surging through your veins as his hand shifts a little bit higher.

oh, no.

“w-what are you doing, gojo?” you hate the excited stutter of your heart.

gojo lets the question sit like a festering wound. waiting until he notices an uncomfortable, antsy shift in your anticipation for him. this is part of his game, sadistic glee will-o-the-wisping around in his chest as he drinks up your flustered expression.

“sit tight and see, sweet girl,” he promises finally, his breath hot at the shell of your ear. words honey on velvet that makes your thighs clamp together. he catches the movement and snorts, smugly. you’re at his mercy already, and he knows it. you’ll play whatever game he plugs into the console even if you’re at a table full of highly-skilled sorcerers with highly keen senses.

the angel on his shoulder that’s along for the ride to hell because you tell yourself you want to keep him out of trouble.

“but...” you whisper hurriedly, attempting to knock reason into his incredibly thick skull. “the other sorcerers-”

“what about them?” gojo asks innocently, knowing damn well he doesn’t care. then without further warning, he shoves the hem of your dress up until it bunches around your hips. “i’m glad you wore this, baby,” he breathes and you let out a pathetic squeak at the feeling of his cool fingers delving between the warmth of your legs. he brushes a hot trail down the line of your clothed folds until he presses in, a finger forcing the rough lace of your panties into your pussy with a slight burn, dampening them at the center.

the knot in his throat bobs hard as he swallows. a starved man chasing the cocky, godlike feeling that burns in his chest possessively not when he’s on top of the tokyo skytree, but when he’s down here on earth, got his girl fucking dripping by the thought alone of him playing with your pussy in the middle of a restaurant and it’s all for him. no one else can do this to you. even when you question his sanity, you want him so bad.

“alright, sugar,” he murmurs in a saccharine tone, slapping your mound quietly. then he snaps his fingers right in front of your face like he’s impatient. “you know the deal here.”

“you- you can’t be serious. gojo?” you lean forward and glance up at him in alarm. sure, you were no stranger to gojo fucking you in risky locations but this? he can’t really think he’ll get away with fucking you on his fingers under a table surrounded by other sorcerers. he lifts up one side of his sunglasses to meet you alarmed stare, a snowy brow quirking up through his fringe and you immediately know that yes, he is serious and also yes, he intends to surely fucking get away with it.

and you, his accomplice, his shitty voice of reason, you want him to be serious.

nervous energy and hot need coils in your lower belly. fists bunched atop the table as you focus too hard on glancing around the table and attempting to appear normal while the feeling of gojo’s long fingers petting your clothed pussy clouds your judgement because it feels good. thankfully, no one seems to pay much attention to you as most of the sorcerers are delighted at a night off and are already deep into their cups, unbothered by drinking in front of the bosses. across from your seat, mei-mei has ijichi pink as fresh salmon. further down, shoko is engaged in a conversation with utahime and ino, the two ladies frowning at every bad baseball joke he cracks. even nanami is monotoning a bored discussion with nitta akari. wrapped up in their own worlds of free drinks, no one remembers you or gojo exists—

until a hostess greets you both, loud and enthusiastic and ready to take your orders. “have you decided on your choice of dinner for tonight, ma’am and sir?” a professional, slightly nervous voice asks, nearly startling you out of your skin. a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

“yo! yeah, actually,” gojo greets enthusiastically with a two-fingered salute, not missing a beat. he taps his nail against the embroidered menu resting on the table, bringing the hostess’s flustered attention to him. “i know just what i want..”

“i want to sample all of your aphrodisiacs.”

three actions. three actions carried out by two completely different women: girlfriend and hostess both choke on their spit. girlfriend and hostess both blush furiously. girlfriend, though— girlfriend chokes on a helpless moan because gojo punctuates his smarmy request with a nasty pinch to your clit.

he grins, ridiculously pleased with himself after. “as for the lady’s decision...” he urges, a double-edged sword.

you know he isn’t fucking asking you about your dinner tastes.

“we’ll share, won’t we, gojo?” you mimic the cloying sweetness of his voice earlier, but behind the façade and below the table, you feel breathless as you give him your decision. before you know it, you’re inching out of your seat. just enough to hook your fingers into the band of your thongs, devastating little white things with a baby blue ribbon that matches the color of gojo’s eyes. wriggling them off your hips as discreetly as possible, down your thighs until they flutter to your ankles. your breath stutters as you bend to lift your black heel and quickly scoop the panties into your hand.

you don’t see it, of course, but gojo’s eyes darken behind the dark void of his sunglasses. “we’ll be sharing,” he concludes with a dazzling smile at the hostess.

“very good, sir. the wait will be short!”

gojo taps your inner thigh, bringing your attention back to him once the hostess departs. his hand is outstretched, palm up. waiting. rolling your eyes, you shove the lace into his hand as rudely as possible. bastard.

“that’s my girl,” he praises under the quiet lull of conversation around the table, grinning as he shifts. you imagine him storing your panties in his pocket like an inventory curse, a dirty fucking souvenir. “you know, these are a cute pair. would you mind if i wore them as a blindfold?”

“i’ll kill you one day, i really will.”

“you think you can?” he hums, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to the shell of your ear. the low of his voice rumbles right against your sensitive skin, straight to your core. “you kill me, who’s gonna let you be a dirty little slut and fuck their fingers like i’m about to? think about it while you spread for me.”

his words have you squirming, a little embarrassed as you feel the bare lips of your cunt brush against the leather cushion of the chair with each subtle shift of your hips. you feel exposed, your skin flushed and an ache in your belly for him that burns hot and desperate. not to mention, when you squeeze your thighs together you can feel the slick sliding between your folds, all for an inconsiderate boyfriend who gets off on fucking you in public.

who takes his time touching you when he knows the two of you could be caught at any moment.

that anyone could drop an item and duck under the table, getting an eyeful of you parting your thighs for gojo fucking satoru, wanton and desperately slutty. see gojo’s long digits dip between your plush thighs, using his thumb and pointer finger to spread your folds, holding them open just to feel your cunt flutter helplessly around nothing.

“s-shut up with that talk, what if someone hears you?!”

“and? you scared?”

he is shameless, and you are not; but you both know your protests are just for show. an act you play right alongside his. that you’re a respected sorcerer who follows the rules and keeps your head obediently down. that you don’t like it when gojo treats you this way, when you love it. love it when he treats you like his own personal little whore that he can pluck and poke like a harp string in front of all of your coworkers because he’s bored at a company birthday party.

“god, you’re so fucking wet already, my baby,” he hisses under his breath, sliding a long finger between your folds to prod at your entrance with the tip. coating his fingers in your slick as he slides them all over your pussy, tongue clicking in reprimand when he accidentally draws a soft whine from the back of your throat. you begin subtle shifts of your hips that grinds your clit right against his palm, right where you need him most. gojo’s fingers may come in second to the stretch of his cock, but you would be lying if you say you don’t beg for them too.

“gojo,” mei-mei’s seductive voice beckons his attention, and you try not to look too startled again. gojo, on the other hand, is the poster model for an ad selling bottles of the art of being unbothered. he lifts a brow at her and she continues, “that special grade curse you were tracking to a condemned apartment building. what happened to it?”

“easy!” he says to mei in his normal, cheerfully annoying voice as he smiles wide, giving nothing away though you know better. he sounds winded under his levity, aroused. “i gave it to the first-years to play with tonight. keep them out of trouble for a while.”

that’s what you call “keeping the kids out of trouble”?

you would scold him if his hand wasn’t between your legs right now. he was notorious for slacking off, giving his weaker assignments to his students— or to you. you watch as mei shoots ijichi a smug look, manicured hand extending as he loses a bet to her. ijichi looks ready to cry as he takes out his wallet and slaps a handful of smooth banknotes into her hand.

“eyes only on me, sweet girl,” gojo commands you in a hushed voice, dipping his head so his sunglasses slide down the attractive slope of his nose. your gaze swivels and locks with stunning azure blue. sparkling summer ocean illuminated by the sun. color a little muted because he’s drowning in the fucking want to paint your cunt white with his cum. he looks so good. an allure in his devastatingly sexy pressed shirt that costs more than the restaurant itself, with four not three buttons propped open. gojo satoru is a man that gets girls into trouble with looks like that and right now, that girl is you.

he gleams a dirty, wolfish smile and your last defense is gone.

“m-make it quick,” you squeak out, sinking into your chair a little more, opening your legs a little more.

his grin widens, delighted. “depends on how fast you cum,” he shrugs as if this is a normal everyday conversation about pesky curses, as he drags slick through your folds to get them nice and wet. making an accidental swipe against your clit that makes you stutter out a shaky breath.

“satoru, don’t- don’t tease. you know i can’t…” you choke, a little too loud. oops.

“hm? what do you need? drink?” he asks casually, voice at its normal and steady level. enjoying the fuck out of toying with your patience, your sanity.

“what’s wrong? is she feeling sick?” the concerned voice of nitta pipes up from directly across you, concern written on her kind face. bless her heart.

“oh, i’m fin-” you bite off with a yelp because gojo chooses that exact moment to pinch your outer lip hard.

“her stomach is feeling a little upset,” he coos apologetically with a smile, rolling his eyes behind his glasses like you’re an annoying child ruining his night. “the wine at this restaurant is far too cheap for her expensive palate. isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

you nod rapidly, like a bobblehead. “lucky for you, i know a remedy,” he sighs, exasperated. reaching forward to lift a crisp glass of “where the dreams have no end” circa 1987. to his lips. sweet chardonnay. alcohol doesn’t suit gojo and for a second you think he’s simply wetting his own throat, watching in confusion as your boyfriend swishes a swig of wine from one cheek to the other, around the front of his teeth and to the back of his throat. mixing it good with the saliva in his own mouth. then he slips a finger under your chin, tilting your head up gently. leaning down to capture your lips. somewhere, you hear nitta gasp in scandal, but oh...

gojo’s kisses aren’t sweet, they’re consuming. the way he kisses is too hungry, too desperate for the public eye. burning the desire in your belly to a boiling point.

he pries your lips apart, and you want to moan against his lips as his tongue slips inside; still balancing the wine in his mouth as he devours you in the kiss. eyes wide as saucers when gojo finally spits into your mouth, a rush of warmth filling your mouth disguised as a sensual kiss. in the back of your mind, it’s disgusting, it’s embarrassing as he dribbles the warm wine onto your tongue, the burst of fruit and the distinct taste of gojo’s own flavor hitting your tastebuds, making you whimper quietly before swallowing it down, like a good girl.

when he pulls away, you have to stop yourself from chasing his kiss or smacking him or both.

“see, nitta-san? all better!” he cheers with a big smile, thumb stuck in the air as he turns a few curious heads.

“i... i’m glad you’re feeling better,” nitta chokes out, the poor manager in shock. but you don’t feel better. your cheeks are burning up. aroused so much that your thighs are clamped tight around gojo’s unmoving hand, that your nipples are peaked painfully against the satin fabric of your mini dress. you wonder if it amuses him to embarrass you. if this was his cruel plan all along— sweet talk you into letting him fuck you under the table, only to tease you until you’re on the brink of tears. to humiliate you in front of all your peers.

“shh, i got you. you’re so good for me. gonna take care of you,” he reads your body language, maybe even your mind- finally, finally taking pity on your poor dripping cunt. you want to sob in relief as his middle finger shifts through wet, rubbing soft circles against your clit, instant pleasure pooling low in your belly to swarm a warm buzz down to your thighs.

“oh...” you whisper out in bliss, using all of your willpower to remain calm. to not make any noise and keep your expression clear. to not alert anyone to the six eyed sorcerer rubbing your clit sore with the rough pad of his finger.

it’s relief and torture; those slow, tight jerks against the little nub of nerve endings has you throbbing, but you want more. for him to take you home. sit on the edge of his bed, his legs spread as he talks you out of your clothes for the night. you want his tongue, swirling against yours as his cock fucks you brutal on the expensive, cool sheets in his penthouse.

above the table, gojo’s fist is curled in a white grip to restrain himself. the sound of your little hitched breaths, of you squirming around his hand so cutely is enough to drive him insane. below, his fingers stroke down your sloppy folds before stopping at your entrance. drooling wet as you flutter around emptiness. he wastes no more time sheathing himself, fucking his fingers in slow to the third knuckle, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat at the feeling of your pussy eagerly sucking him in.

your hands scramble for the edge of your chair, gripping it until the skin pulls taut. you want to wail, breath lodged tight in your throat. teeth clenched behind your sealed lips at the slight burn of gojo suddenly stretching your opening with two thick fingers. hot pressure between your hips as you press your hips down, greedy.

“shit- you’re so fucking tight, sweet girl,” he mutters, curving his fingers along the pink of your walls on the pull out just to hear your adorable little whine, dragging out raw pleasure in a slow rhythm of fucking that no one is wiser to. his hand barely moves, his arm does not flex— he even cracks a joke or two at the expense of nanami and ijichi— but you can feel the violence behind the pounding of his fingers, compensating for the fact that he can’t fuck you proper like you deserve. settling for rough jerks of his ridiculously long digits as he pulses in and out of sensitive nerves.

your hips rut against his hand in a desperate grind, forcing your clit to be rubbed raw with the sticky heel of his palm. the feeling is driving you insane, your toes curling against your shoes as you feel a familiar tingle, knot forming much too fast in your lower belly.

gojo’s fingers hit just right and you tremble, a rough fingerfuck under the table throwing you towards an orgasm that will cleave you, the table, and his entire fucking hand into two. an end of life, death by embarrassment because your orgasms are never quiet and he’s been teasing you for too long, your body a coil ready to snap.

he eases a third finger in, pressing deep, and you choke. the stretch of his fingers rub along your puffy walls, nudging right against that gummy patch of tissue that makes your eyes watery, your hips jolting as you bite down on your tongue until you taste blood, a whimper escaping you as you rock your hips raw against the cup of his hand. hot puffs of air leave your lips as you pant quietly, your eyes lidded as they dart around the table dazedly. looking for what, you don’t know. someone that’s watching and will make you stop. someone with their phone out, capturing the memory. someone that will liberate you from the heavy push of gojo’s strong fingers fucking your walls to a throb.

unfortunately, your wish is granted. there in your peripheral, you catch a pair of green-tinted goggles fixated on the side of your head.

how did you miss that?

you turn your head and freeze as you’re met with the owner of those green goggles. your eyes blinking rapidly before digging sharp nails into gojo’s arm, horrified.

you were caught. caught, caught, caught.

there is no surprise written on nanami kento’s handsome face. there is no disgust. his expression betrays nothing, actually. but his back is ramrod straight in his chair as he stares down into your face. the lighting in the restaurant is so poor that you hold onto foolish hope like a lifeline, that nanami doesn’t know what’s going on, but then gojo curls all three fingers on the hard drag out, forcing nanami to be witness to your eyes rolling shut in pleasure. to hear the soft cry of your whine, quiet and desperate as gojo fucks between your wet thighs. your leg jerks so hard it knocks against the khaki-colored slacks of the ex-salaryman.

“g- gojo... gojo!” you whisper urgently when he doesn’t stop, your nails still digging into his arm ruthlessly. “nanami-”

“can see you,” gojo finishes your sentence, nodding gravely but otherwise: un-fucking-bothered. “what about him?”

his fingers never stop fucking the knot in your lower belly towards bursting. he presses his palm to your throbbing clit, and you moan a little too loud. it feels so fucking good you want to pass out.

“g-gojo, stop.”

“at least not be so fucking loud?” nanami hisses to you both, ears beet red and a sneer on his lips. his fingers grip a pair of chopsticks so hard the wood is splintering. “i can hear-”

“you hear her little pussy swallowing my fingers up, nanami?” gojo purrs, your thighs squeezing tight around his hand at the dirty lilt to his words, your cunt clenching around the thick stretch of his fingers until it makes you sore.

“don’t drag me into this,” nanami snarls quietly, sucking in a sharp intake of breath. in your years of being a jujutsu sorcerer and working alongside the man, you have never seen nanami kento unraveled. even in the face of the most dangerous curses, he kept his unwavering cool. but faced with the slick sound of gojo’s long digits curling in and out of your pussy, hearing the soft gasps you fight not to make right next to him as you subtly fuck yourself up and down on his fingers, nanami kento is very fucking unraveled. “you need to stop, gojo.”

“why, you gonna tell the birthday boy on us? you don’t have it in you,” gojo taunts, a nasty edge to his voice as he smirks at nanami, sky blue eyes gleaming with malice over the top of his sunglasses. he presses his hand between your folds, circling the ball of his palm hard against your sensitive clit once more.

“tell me why i shouldn’t. this is highly inappropriate. people are trying to eat, satoru-”

“because she’s close. you know, it never takes long. she’s so sensitive. i can barely get my cock in before she’s cumming around me at home,” gojo explains matter-of-factly, leaning forward to meet nanami eye-to-eye over the top of your head. you would be mortified at him revealing that information normally. using you as an object to play with, to get under nanami’s skin. but you’re desperate now, too busy chasing the tremble in your thighs and coiling in your belly to care. “bet you wish it was you. i know about your little crush.”

nanami doesn’t rise to the bait, of course, but his eyes still haven’t left your face. the restaurant opening its maw and swallowing you whole wouldn’t be too bad because this entire thing is so fucking weird and suffocatingly fucking hot this close to your inevitable orgasm.

“s-satoru, help- i’m going to-”

gojo waits until the last, earth-shattering second. edging you nastily and ruining your orgasm right in front of your fucking colleague who watches it all like his own personal collection of filthy porn. gojo’s fingers cease inside of you and you want to cry— reminding your half-fried out brain that you’ll never play one of his games again for as long as you live.

“shh, sweet girl, be patient,” gojo coos sweetly, slipping his fingers out to pet your swollen clit in a slow, teasing circle that doesn’t give you enough friction. you hate him. you hate the slick that dribbles from your cunt onto your seat cushion when he pulls out even more. “if you were quiet, nanami wouldn’t have found out.”

“it’s not my fault-”

“isn’t it?” he croons, and then he clicks his tongue. “well, na-na-min? can my girl cum? look at her.”

you hate gojo satoru. you hate gojo satoru so much that your hate manifests into love. sweat sticks the back of your dress to your body in the middle of the restaurant, at a table full of inebriated sorcerers (a small mercy), your thighs are trembling, your cunt throbbing with need for him and he’s asking another man if you can fucking cum. becoming a villain and attempting to rip his life to shreds has never been so close on your horizon as it is right now.

“you’re sick,” nanami answers, ripping his gaze away from the two fucking freaks sitting next to him. he can’t believe this shit. this is precisely why he never goes out on weekends. but he also can’t believe how worked up he is, neck blotchy— cock half-hard in a way it has no fucking right to be behind gojo satoru’s girl. the chopsticks in his hand snap into sharp splints, a symbolism of his waning sanity. he’ll have to ask for a new pair when the food is delivered. or a job transfer far, far away.

but your next sentence stops him dead, making nanami choke on his breath, hand flying to his throat to loosen his tie.

“p-puh- please, kento-san,” you whine, pleading softly, only to him. the 7:3 sorcerer whips his head around, back to the couple next to him.

gojo is smirking because he has two players now and you— god, sweet little you, caught in gojo’s dark web. eyes shiny with unshed tears and desperate to cum around your boyfriend’s impossibly long fingers. and nanami, poor nanami, holding the power to end your suffering. nanami knows if he says no, gojo is cruel enough to hold the orgasm over your head the entire night because he’s fucking sick in the head like that. one word. two or three if he chooses and he can help a damsel in distress because that’s what jujutsu sorcerers are supposed to do. then he can go back to his night and pretend none of this ever happened.

for his sanity, he wets his lips and speaks up:

“be a good girl and cum for us, now.”

well, where did that come from? his voice came out more ruined than he intended to.

neither one of you care, but especially not you. not when gojo chuckles, plunging his fingers deep without warning, three of them stuffing your cunt wide as he intends on ruining you with the violent fuck of his fingers. “come on, baby, you heard the man. cum all over my fingers. let go, let me feel it-”

it doesn’t take long. sweet and forbidden, building slow in your belly until it’s the only thing you can feel. gojo fucks that spot knuckle deep, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit just right. you sink in your chair and forget how to breathe because it’s right there. too many nerves. lusted weight of two pairs of eyes, precision locked on your body, your expressions, your cunt.

summer blue and coffee brown.

“wait, gojo- gojo, i can’t. i can’t-”

“didn’t you want to? want to show nanami how you look when you’re creamin’ all over me? come here, sweet girl. cum for me.” he whispers hotly into your ear, just loud enough for the extra witness on your left side to hear as well. for him to hear the sloppy squelching of your greedy pussy swallowing him up.

biting your lip, feeling it split beneath the gnash of your teeth. you turn your head and hide your sweaty face against gojo’s arm as both men watch, breath tight in their chests as your body winds tight and suddenly snaps. pent up and released after gojo’s relentless teasing. cumming full and raw, forced out of you so violently it hurts. gojo lets you ride it out on his fingers, cooing in your ringing ears, letting you cling to him and commenting on how fucking messy your cunt feels as it squeezes his fingers numb.

and nanami... nanami is wondering how the hell he allowed himself to become involved in this shit, but he lets you grip his thigh until he actually feels the bones shift underneath your strong ass hold, wondering how your cunt would feel squeezing around him. how you would scream for him.

when your vision clears, there is no hiding the tremors and jolts as your pussy throbs in the aftermath. your head feels dazed, causing you to barely register the flurry of your surroundings. boisterous laughter flows around your table, the sorcerers thoroughly enjoying themselves as they drunkenly sing an off-key rendition of the happy birthday song. you almost miss the hostesses decorating the entire table with colorful, artful displays of sushi and other various dishes. and of course, gojo’s ridiculously huge aphrodisiac platter, as if he needs it.

nanami pries your fingers off of his thigh, flexing his leg before he turns back to his food with his new pair of chopsticks, wondering what the fuck kind of line he just crossed.

what you don’t miss is gojo gently removing the stretch of his fingers, smearing wet on your trembling thighs, leaving you sore and empty.

“oh my god...” you whisper to yourself, dazed and confused and so satisfied.

gojo tugs the hem of your dress down, covering your thighs and the evidence of your messy orgasm. he presses his lips softly to your temple, kissing your damp forehead. “you should really keep your dress down in public, dirty girl.” chuckling, he shamelessly slips his glistening fingers into his mouth one by one. tonguing his fingers clean of your slick.

oh, god.

remembering you probably traumatized your coworker, you peek at nanami out of the corner of your eye. if you want to be able to ever face the sorcerer again during work, you’d better find a way to eke out an apology. but what could you say? sorry i made you watch me cum on my boyfriend’s fingers? don’t report me to hr? does jujutsu headquarters even have an hr department? “n-nanami-san, about-”

“don’t apologize to him with your words, sweet girl,” gojo smirks at you, all cat that got the last bit of cream in the bowl. you watch him as he suddenly pushes back in his chair, standing up and yawning as if he’s tired— a terrible act. “apologize with your pussy.”

you can’t look at nanami, you can’t wrap your head the weight of what your boyfriend is implying, but you stand up, your clit beating in a steady throb and your heart in your throat as you take gojo’s outstretched hand. “comin’, nanamin?” gojo doesn’t look back as he shoots the invitation at the younger man. then you two make your way out of the restaurant without goodbye.

back at the table, nanami isn’t at war with himself behind the proposition. in fact, he is calmer than he’s ever been in a fight. “sick fucking freaks,” he sneers to the retreating backs of you and gojo, sucking in a breath that feels like inhaling sharp needles.

and then, he takes out his wallet to throw down a generous tip for the hostess before he bids a polite bow to the table. most definitely not following you and gojo out of the restaurant.

he just really wants that fucking apology.

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bombyxluna · 4 years

Note

Hewo! I’m not sure if ur taking requests, but I have one fo ye. How would the brothers +the undateables react to mc (somehow) being turned into a toddler? I just thought of this, idk y, just did.

This one is so cute anon, and I was so happy to write it! Thank you for the adorable request, I think I’ll post a follow up to it: MC taking care of the brothers and the undatables if they become toddlers!

PS: I don’t think Satan was ever actually a toddler or a child or something, but I felt like it works for this hc because it’s funny jahsjhjsha

Brothers + undatables react to: MC turning into a toddler

Lucifer

He just knows Diavolo is behind this. what did he even do this time? Pick up on some old magic again? Try to shake things up so everyone gets along? Ask Barbatos to go back in time and pick up you as an actual toddler, just for the lolz? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t have time to care because toddlers are a handful and you’ve tried eating his quill three times now and he is panicking. Hard. He puts the quill and the pen on top of a shelf and when he turns around, you’re gone. He sighs, looking for you on every corner of the office, just to find you hiding behind the curtain. When he finds you, you scream and start running.

Oh, how he doesn’t miss the days Satan was like this. At least you are way less fussy than he was. As he watches you hide behind the couch, however, he can’t contain his smile nor the silly monster voice he makes as he announces he’s coming to find you. He manages to catch you this time and pretends to eat your arm with his hands, making exaggerated chomping sounds. On the third time you hide, though, he has to be honest: he’d take Satan’s mini developed anger over your climbing skills any day. How did you even get on top of the shelf? He blinked. That’s all he did. He blinked. And now his quill is in danger again.

He is completely spent at the end of the day. He hasn’t felt so tired since Diavolo decided changing the color of every single lamppost in the Devildom would be good for “morale” and he had to do the paperwork. He ends up dozing off holding you. When he wakes up to find that little project of human being cuddling to his neck, he smiles to himself. Sure, he’s worried about what happened, but maybe he can enjoy this for a bit more.

Mammon

No one knows who’s screaming anymore: if it’s you or him. It’s probably both - it’s definitely both. He thinks the witches got to you or something, and he is going nuts, not only because what the fuck why are you like so small now and how is he supposed to take care of you?

He ends up staying home instead of going out as he planned. Mostly because you refuse to leave his room and keep hiding under his car and in every corner you can find when he tries to get you to leave with him. Once he starts pretending he can’t see you and you giggle and run away from him, he melts a little inside. You play peek-a-boo for a while, but he gets worried easily. His room isn’t exactly the most childproof place in the house, so he takes you to the living room instead - to his surprise, you have no complaints about that.

As the day progresses he somehow gets the hang of taking care of a toddler again. Satan had been a handful but he was much calmer than you were when it comes to playing or tantrums (though if he is honest, Satan’s tantrums were terrifying). He finds an old coloring book in one of the many bookshelves around the house and steals Asmo’s markers for you to play with. You make him sit down to color with you, and he does. The rest of the day is spent with him listening to your made-up stories about the characters in the book. By the time dinner is ready, you’re already tired, and he has to carry you downstairs in a piggyback ride - he complains about it but in reality, he’s having the time of his life.

Levi

Honestly what the fuck. He has read about this in manga before but what the fuck. Couldn’t you have turned into something easier to deal with? A cat? A lobster? Anything else?

He doesn’t know what to do. Giving you an unplugged controller for his video game did not work as planned. You got tired of it easily and whenever he tried to ignore your whining, you’d cry. He thinks about taking you to someone more cut out for this - he remembers mammon being good with children and Beel too, but his envious side doesn’t want to lose to his brothers.

so he’s stuck with you. somehow he manages to kee you away from his figurines, giving his Ruri-chan plushies to play with instead. He has to admit you’re cute but by the end of the day, he is grateful it is over. As it turns out, he finds out he’s not ready to have children just yet, but maybe in the future?

Satan

He doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. After all, this is a side effect of the book he lent you. He thought you had read all the rules before giving it back to him, but it seems that you didn’t - rookie mistake really.

He feels somewhat guilty about it though, so he does his best to take care of you during the day. He’s a little awkward and unsure of how to engage in your plays, but he does his best. Ignoring his brother’s snarky comments over it being his turn to take care of a baby, he just takes you to his room so he can keep a closer eye on you. You end up asking him if he could read you a story and he breathes in relief - that he can do.

It turns out he can’t. He doesn’t have any books that would be appropriate for children, so he resorts to the internet instead - thank Diavolo for how useful DDDs are sometimes. He finds a small book about a little girl in a red hood, the parts with the big bad wolf seem to scare you, but he lets you cling to his arm and hide your face on his side. At the end of the day, he is okay. The day went by as peaceful as possible, and you both had enjoyed the story. For the entire following week, he finds himself wondering what it would be like to have a child of his own.

Asmodeus

He holds you in his lap as he dials the phone. “Solomon what the fuck did you do”. He didn’t do anything, no one really knows what happened, it’s a mess. Asmo doesn’t care much about it though, because you’re a little cuddle bug and he is happy to give you all the smooches and put a bunch of cute bows on your hair.

He manages to keep you calm the whole day. You don’t even have time to think of throwing a tantrum, because he already has a next activity planned to entertain you. he lets you do his hair as well, lets you paint his nails, and takes so many pictures of you in thousands of different outfits you get a little dizzy about it. He is by far the most careful when handling you and you have a joyful day in the safest environment possible. He lets you take a bubble bath and even if he’s in constant fear of the water being too hot or too cold or you drowning, he powers through.

He watches cartoons with you when you’re getting sleepy because it’s a more quiet activity. He even teaches you how to tidy up the room and you both go downstairs for dinner wearing matching outfits. When the magic (curse? who knows) wears off and you’re back to being a grown-up, he is pouty. He shows you all the pictures he takes and says you’re the cutest toddler he’s ever seen - satan is a little offended by that.

Beelzebub

This is unusual. You are much smaller than you normally are. He doesn’t really know how to act when you climb on his lap and push your tiny hands on his cheeks, but he laughs. He ends up taking you to the kitchen with him since it’s his favorite room in the house.

He keeps you away from the stove at all times, but is willing to let you participate in the cooking process - it’s his turn to make dinner after all. He starts by making cookies for a snack, then another batch of cookies for dessert. Then a final batch because he ate the ones supposed to go for dessert. He melts every time you giggle at his antics, and when you end up with chocolate smeared all over your cheeks, he can’t resist taking a picture and showing to his brothers.

He is careful when handling you because you’re so tiny now he’s even more scared of accidentally hurting you. He ends up caging you in his arms whenever you get too close to the edge of the kitchen counter, and then just giving you a piggyback ride throughout the entire house while you wait for dinner to cook. When the day is over he isn’t sad because you’re back to normal, but he is happy that he got to enjoy a day with you - he likes children a lot.

Belphegor

Well, this is inconvenient, to say the least. you’re staring back at him with huge questioning eyes and to be honest, all he wanted was to sleep. He picks you up nonetheless and sets you down on top of his pillow. Though he tries, talking to you about the importance of naps has zero to none effect on your antics. Instead, you pick up another of his many pillows and hit him with it, screaming about a pillow fight.

He chuckles, yawns, and picks up a pillow as well. Maybe this will tire you down enough for the nap conversation to make a comeback. It doesn’t work. You just got more excited and hyper. He played himself.

He thinks about leaving you with Beel but he’s making dinner and lord knows how weirdly focused he gets. leaving you with Levi or Mammon isn’t an option either, and he’d prefer to avoid Lucifer whenever it’s possible. He has no idea where satan or asmo are, so truly, he is stuck. He whines about it to you, and to his surprise, you hug him, asking if his booboo is better. He chuckles again. maybe this won’t be so bad.

Diavolo

“Barbatos look at this.”

“Barbatos, MC is tiny now isn’t it wonderful?”

“Barbatos, look at how cute they are - cancel all my plans I’ll spend the day with tiny MC.”

You’re not sure what’s going on but Diavolo is fun to play with so who cares? He indulges in all of your makeshift stories and he doesn’t care if you climb his furniture and go wild. He laughs with you, picking you up and making airplane noises as you “fly” around the castle. He is ecstatic.

He encharges Barbatos with the mission of taking pictures of the two of you playing together and being silly. He never had many opportunities to be around children so he will cherish this to the last minute. You play house, play with legos Barbatos has no idea where Diavolo found, walk around the Devildom together to look at the flowers. The students of RAD are confused because ?? No one knew the prince had a child wtf??? He thinks it’s cute that you’ve been labeled his kid so he goes with it, introducing you as the future ruler of the Devildom. Barbatos warns him it might be a bad idea, but he is sure is nothing Lucifer can’t handle.

Barbatos

He is calm. This isn’t anywhere different from the situations you have to deal with when you can time travel, and nowhere near as stressful as babysitting being the butler for the demon prince is. He handles you with care, but he is not too attached and doesn’t participate much in your plays.

He does answer all your questions and allows you to tag along wherever he goes. Patient as ever, he will explain what every single object you point to is. At some point, somehow he is roped into picking you up because you got tired of walking around the castle. Your hands go directly to his hair, playing with the skeleton wings coming out of his head. He doesn’t mind it, only explains to you what they are and let you try to make them expand and close.

When you find out he has a tail, he doesn’t mind letting you hug it and touch it. Your curious eyes are adorable and at least it keeps you distracted. When you giggle as he picks you up with it, he thinks maybe he should have filmed that to show Diavolo later, he’s sure he’d appreciate it. He gives you a small plastic tray they have laying around in the kitchen because you want to be like him and carry your own tea - it’s actually juice. Overall, it’s a nice change of pace from his usual days.

Solomon

Whatever magic this is, it’s weirdly insistent in staying put. He tries making you turn back but ends up giving up because he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you in any way. He is not the best with children but he does what he can, keeping you away from his room and all his potions as soon as he realizes you’re stuck like this for the time being.

He ends up taking you to one of the gardens around RAD. He entertains you by making the flowers dance with his magic, and giving you butterfly wings - though making you come down from the tree once you flew over there proves that to be a dumb idea. He sends a bunch of pictures and videos of you to Asmo, who is now in urgent mode and willing his class to end as fast as possible so he can hang out with you as well.

He gives you ice cream and chats with you about your favorite cartoons - being human has its perks, he knows them all by heart. He even sings some of the opening themes with you. When you start to get too tired, the games on his human phone solve all the issues. Sure, DDDs are great and all, but despite it not working on the Devildom, a human phone has its advantages.

Simeon

He is used to this. He is always near the younger angels in the Celestial realm so it’s really no surprise that he is so good at handling you. He doesn’t understand how you got turned into a toddler, but he will protect and take care of you until you return to normal. He has many ideas on how to keep you happy, and they all work. Collages? He will get you magazines. Drawing? He has multi-colored markers at your service. Hungry? He knows the recipe to the perfect pancakes - and you can decorate them yourself.

You don’t cry or throw a tantrum once under his care. he is delicate when dealing with you, and always listens to all your stories and complaints, comments on them and offers easy solutions. He doesn’t understand some of the references - who is Hello Kitty and why on heaven does she have no mouth? But he does his best to engage with you.

By the end of the day, he has issued Solomon’s help on finding out how to properly work his phone camera, if only to film a little bit of you and Luke playing together. he is glad you’re okay when you turn back to normal, but he confesses he enjoyed taking care of you all day.

bonus:

Luke

“There can only be one”, he says before he charges at you with a foam sword. It makes no effect but Simeon has never been more confused.

He ends up enjoying being able to boss you around and act like an older brother, telling you to color inside the lines and about the proper colors of the sky and the sea. He doesn’t understand what’s so cute about the two of you playing that Simeon just has to take a picture, but he lets him do it anyway.

He complains when you’re back to normal because he was truly enjoying not being the only child anymore.

Masterlist

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spook-central · 3 years

Text

So you know how I said I was gonna write a short Ray fic based on that garage kiss in Some Kind of Wonderful?

GUESS WHAT I DID IT

I’ll be posting it here and on archive of our own! Find me there at egonspenglersnose and give it some love!)

It’s based on this scene and this song if you need a little more context! Enjoy!

•••

She Loves Me

Word Count: 2939

Warnings: none it’s fluffy!

The day had started off normally enough, aside from the usual craziness that often occurred around the firehouse. Spring was in the air, and after what had felt like a bleak and oppressive winter, it was finally time to open up the doors and air the place out.

It felt good, letting the spring air in, and it made your overtime far more bearable.

You often stayed late a few times a week to make sure everything was caught up on for the next day when things got busy during the work week, something which Janine always appreciated greatly. Tonight was no exception, but the sun staying out for a longer time in the evenings definitely made it more enjoyable.

It also helped that Ray had lingered behind this evening to work on the Ecto. You had always been incredibly fond of him, and it was obvious to just about everyone that a crush had blossomed on your part.

You recalled the day you had met him; they had hired you on the spot mainly because they needed the help but also because you had a fairly impressive resume, and Ray was one of the first of the guys you had been introduced to.

He was quite honestly one of the best looking men you had ever met, and so incredibly sweet. You immediately liked him and got a good feeling about him.

You loved how passionate he was about the Ecto, and his overall knowledge of cars had always impressed you. Even if you didn’t know much about them, you loved his enthusiasm for them and it easily rubbed off on you.

Now, as you finished up the last of your paperwork for the evening, you could hear him tinkering away not far from you. Ecto had her fair share of problems, but there was nothing Ray wouldn’t do for that car. It was like another member of the team, and you couldn’t imagine the guys doing anything without it.

Ray would occasionally come in from where he was working for something he needed, and your eyes would meet on occasion. You had never had the guts to tell him of your feelings. Ray was just so cute and enthusiastic about what he did that it was hard NOT to give him heart eyes 24/7.

From time to time, you would hear him shuffle in for a drink of water or a missing wrench that he had left in the lab, smiling at him as you took in the sight of his wild brown hair and big, sweet eyes. How was it fair for one human to be that cute? You felt like you were sixteen again with the way you wanted to fawn over him.

However, restraint was a quality you possessed as well, and you hoped that you had been able to be somewhat subtle around him.

Oh well, maybe someday you would have enough courage. Sighing as you finished up your paperwork for the night, you stood to stretch your back, adjusting your jeans, purse and blouse as you made your way towards the door.

“She still down and out?” You asked Ray as you came to stand carefully beside the lovely car he had so caringly constructed and repaired. It really was his baby, in a funny way, and you respected the work that had gone into it a great deal. Ecto kept the guys in one piece, and you gave the vehicle a sweet little pat on the roof as if to say thank you.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he said, his voice echoing off of the metal interior before attempting to stand up too quickly and bumping his head on it. “Ow!”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, it always gets me like that,” he chuckled, rubbing the spot on the back of his head that had been bumped and smiling that sweet, bright smile of his at you that always made you melt. “Are you headed out for the day?”

“Yup, unless you need anything else from me that is,” truth be told, you would’ve gladly stayed all night just to hang around with him. Ray seemed hesitant to fully say Goodnight, and you couldn’t help wondering if he was thinking the same thing.

“Well, uh...hand me the socket wrench?” You had gotten a fairly decent rundown of which tools were which upon receiving your first car as a teenager thanks to your father, so luckily you knew exactly what he needed. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing,” adjusting your purse on your shoulder, you couldn’t help asking about a case that had piqued your interest. “How did that class 5 turn out?”

“The one from yesterday?”

“Yeah, that one sounded nuts!”

“It was,” he laughed, “Venkman’s aim is getting better, he didn’t make any chandeliers explode this time.”

“I thought that one was Egon?”

You both laughed, and part of you was thrilled at how naturally conversation came for the both of you.

Needing a socket wrench turned into needing pliers, but soon enough Ray ran out of tools to need and it was clear that he really just wanted to spend time with you. You weren’t about to object in the slightest, comfortably sitting on a nearby stool and watching as he worked.

Truth be told, he had liked you ever since meeting you on that first day. You were always kind to him, and listened to anything he had to say no matter how out there it was.

He also couldn’t help thinking that you were incredibly pretty and very smart, but his own shy nature prevented him from saying so the way he wanted to.

A long time passed with you talking to Ray as he worked, and it was quite nice. The sun was setting now, the light golden as it streamed in from the open door beside the Ecto, but you didn’t mind.

“So Venkman seriously busted up this woman’s entire China cabinet?” The conversation had strayed back to Venkman now, and you couldn’t help laughing. He was such an odd duck, and you always got a kick out of him and his wild antics.

“We were able to blame it on the ghost being rowdy, but my god, it was a mess!” Ray tried to smooth back his messy hair as he laughed again, his hands covered in engine grease and not helping the situation much.

“He seems like he can be a real peach when he’s not causing trouble,” you rolled your eyes, smiling as Ray closed up the Ecto’s hood.

“He teases me plenty, that’s for sure, but I love him. He’s one of my best friends,” Ray was clearly fond of Venkman, and you didn’t doubt that their bond was a special one.

“What on earth does he tease you about?”

“Mostly my luck with women. Not that his is anything to go by,” this got a gut laugh out of you, and you were surprised by how witty Ray could be at times.

“No kidding. What, does he think you haven’t got game or something?”

“He tells me women won’t want to kiss me since I smoke so much.” Ray rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help thinking about how far from the truth that actually was. “Or he acts like I don’t know how to do it at all. I mean, sure, I spend a lot of time at work but I’m not a complete hermit.”

You both laughed again, and you sat your purse on the ground as you got a rather cheeky idea. Was it even smart to try and approach things like this? Would he go for it? God, you hoped so.

“I’m sure you know how. I mean, everybody has a general idea of how to lay a proper smooch on someone if they want to.”

He raised an eyebrow at this, thinking the phrasing was humorous and wanting to hear more from you on this subject in particular.

“A ‘proper smooch’?”

“Yeah, you know. The kiss that kills. Butterflies and rainbows and all that stuff.”

He watched you as you took a few causal steps toward the Ecto now, the gears visibly turning in his head. Was this some subtle attempt at flirting?

The nearby radio, which had been playing softly in the background the whole time, played a song that perfectly fit the mood, the lyrics softly ringing out as you contemplated what to say next.

‘Who made the rule

that I should always play the fool?

All the nights I suffered

when I need not have bothered…’

“I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those, now that I think about it,” he admitted with a half smile.

“I uh...I think I’ve gotten close, but never all the way there,” you tucked a bit of hair behind your ear, watching as Ray adjusted his uniform, which he still had on. It had smudges of engine grease on it now, and you found it endearing.

He realized that this chance was now or never, gauging by the look in your eyes that you wanted what he wanted and deciding to go for it.

“How would it work? I mean...you seem like you know more about it than me,” he took a step closer, and you knew your eyes were shining in an undeniably flirty way.

“Oh you—you want me to show you?”

“I mean...if you feel up to it. I’m no expert and I could use the help.” Cheeky man, you thought. You could certainly show him if that was what he wanted.

“Do you have your eye on somebody, Ray?”

He wiped his hands on a nearby rag, the tension heightening as you watched them and then met his eyes again. You had always had a thing for those wonderful hands of his.

“I guess you could say that, yeah,” he nodded, his big brown eyes warm and sincere and you knew what he wanted to say but didn’t right then.

Instead of pressing further, you nodded, thinking this might be the most fun lesson you ever had the pleasure of teaching anyone as you got right into it.

“Well...I mean, first you have to start off in a stationary position. That helps,” he was closer now, and your cheeks flashed a soft tinge of pink as the space between you lessened. You didn’t usually have it in you to be playful, but decided to gently hop up on the hood of the Ecto in an attempt to bring him closer. “Come a little closer than that. Can’t do a thing from that far away.”

You moved to scoot nearer to the edge of the hood, willing Ray closer and practically beaming as he closed the space between you both more and more with each step.

Had anyone else sat on the hood like this, Ray might have gotten finicky, but the sight of you so close to the car he loved so much actually only ended up getting him going even more.

“It definitely helps,” he rubbed the back of his neck now, seeing that this had clearly turned into something beyond just a lesson in kissing techniques. You could smell his cologne now that he was so close, which only seemed to set your senses on overdrive even further.

“Now, uh...do you know where your hands go?”

His eyebrows raised in what seemed like a mix of curiosity and confusion, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched now that he stood directly in front of you.

“My hands?”

“Yeah. They go on the hips of whoever you’re kissing,” the mood had certainly shifted now, and you felt more daring than you ever had before. A timid smile crossed your face as Ray allowed you to guide his hands to the appropriate place, and the realization that this was definitely about to happen made your stomach do leaps.

“Hips, got it.” God, his hands were so strong and steady and you didn’t even care if this got engine grease on your jeans, it was just thrilling to have him this close.

“Okay, now look into my eyes. Eye contact is important.” The both of you gave a shy, breathy chuckle as your eyes met, and you playfully shoved Ray’s chest. “Come on, we’ve gotta take this seriously if you want to learn anything.”

“Sorry, I get a little skittish with these things,” he admitted, and you shook your head with a smile.

“It’s okay, but the lesson isn’t quite over yet,” you said, your cheeks noticeably warmer. The tension was enough to make your heart race.

“Alright, and uh...after that?”

“Well, uh...my hands go here,” you reached up to loop your arms around his neck, inevitably bringing him directly between your legs and causing Ray to clear his throat.

“How do you, uh...I mean, how do you know that that happens every time?”

“I watch a lot of TV, I guess,” you managed a soft laugh with this, “now, uh...close your eyes.”

Ray’s heart was pounding. Was this seriously about to happen?

“Close my—? Oh, yeah, okay.” He nodded a bit, doing as you said and knowing he had wanted this for what felt like forever. He was so handsome up close, and you couldn’t believe your luck.

It was time to go in for the kill, and you didn’t waste a second.

Leaning in, the first contact was soft and exploratory, and it took Ray a moment to figure out exactly how to respond. But once he got the angle right, it was everything you had described and more.

The music swelled on the radio nearby, and you thought you could’ve melted right then and there.

‘The minutes that we missed

idle lips that should’ve kissed

and now gently together

The first kiss lasts forever

She loves me, she loves me

Oh and she loves me, all the time…’

Tilting his head a bit, Ray found just the right angle, and one kiss turned into what felt like a million. Your hands made their way into his hair, that hair you loved so much that often seemed to fly out in all directions.

His lips were soft and very pleasant to kiss, and it occurred to you that he must use lip balm of some kind. Ray himself couldn’t believe this was happening. He honestly couldn’t fathom how he had been lucky enough to end up kissing you like this, but he was, and he was putting everything he had into it.

Ray’s mind moved at a million miles a minute. All he could think about was how it felt when you moved in a rhythm with him, how soft your lips were, your soft body, and how GOOD you smelled—

He nearly sighed as he felt your leg brace around him to bring him in as close as possible, gripping your jeans to pull you close by your hips in return.

You nearly melted into a puddle on the floor at the feeling of his grip, so strong and firm on you like he couldn’t bear to leave any space between the two of you at all.

He must have shaved that morning, you thought, having expected him to have at least a little stubble and feeling surprised that there was none. Where on earth had Ray learned to kiss so well? Boy would Venkman have egg on his face if he knew about THIS.

Unfortunately for you both, you had to break away and breathe at some point, just looking at each other until you finally managed to speak.

“Well, uh...Venkman was wrong. Way wrong. Wow.”

“It was...I mean, was it like you said? Butterflies and—and all that for you too?”

“Are you kidding?” You laughed, “sheesh, I didn’t know you had that in you. You wouldn’t have any trouble hooking any woman you wanted if you kissed her like that.”

He seemed surprised and incredibly flattered, looking down and then back up at you with a grin and eager brown eyes.

“Was it obvious at all that I was referring to you?”

“I kind of hoped that was the case,” both of you grinned then, the final chorus of the song fading out in the background as the spring breeze blew in once more.

‘She loves me, she loves me

Oh and she loves me all the time…’

You couldn’t resist leaving a sweet peck on Ray’s cheek just because you could, earning a bright smile from him as he got a somewhat playful gleam in his eye.

“The guys are gonna be gone for the rest of the evening, and I don’t have anything else planned...would you want to grab some dinner with me?”

“Sure, but only if we can do more of this afterwards,” you giggled, and Ray helped you off the hood of the Ecto to stand you up and kiss you so that he could press you flush against him now. You were sure you looked like a cartoon character with birds chirping around your head as he pulled away.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Ray said, unable to keep from grinning as he took your hand, “but you’ve got yourself a deal.”

What a lesson to teach with anyone, you thought. He was a fast learner, that was for sure.

Picking up your purse, the two of you headed out, and you couldn’t help humming that lovely chorus to yourself one last time.

‘She loves me, she loves me

Oh and she loves me all the time…’

#ghostbusters #dan aykroyd #ray stantz #ray stantz x reader #ray stantz fanfic #ghostbusters fanfiction

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keltonwrites · 3 years

Text

Where no one knows your name

How many times is a person meant to make new friends? When I moved into an apartment in DC with an absolutely iconic girl from Craigslist, I wrote in my journal, “you never know when you’ll meet your next bridesmaid.” Charmingly juvenile, as I was 24 years old. Ironic, as I never had any bridesmaids. And embarrassing, knowing I wrote something that’s surely been embroidered on a bachelorette party t-shirt by now. My point was: you can meet people you fall in love with anywhere, anytime, assuming your heart (and calendar) are open. Now my heart and calendar are open and I am one of Elizabeth Bennet’s sad sisters, cloying and desperate for attention while everyone at the ball ignores me. Meeting people here is unnerving and hapless and eye-clawingly vulnerable. My first new friend told me she was moving away in a few months. Do you invest deeply in hopes of another faraway friendship? Do you just go back to waving as you pass on the street? I like this girl! What an embarrassing thing to have to say to someone! Do you just invite people to every and anything like a lunatic? I can’t even remember to call the people I am forever-and-ever in cahoots with. I’m also deeply bound by what I’ll call the Movie Trap: say it’s 3pm during not-a-pandemic, and you get the urge to see a movie. You look at the showings, and there’s one you really want to see at 7:15. You think to yourself, “I should make an effort,” and you text a friend. “Hey, you wanna go see This Cool Movie at 7:15 tonight?” No one ever says yes. Don’t give me an example of when someone has, because it’s always one of these answers:

“Oooh, I’m actually seeing it with Kate tomorrow - wanna come?”

“Can we go to the 9pm showing? Stuck at work.”

“Yeah but let’s see Movie You’ll Fucking Hate instead.”

Now maybe I’m just lighting flares guiding you to the worst parts of my personality, but this drives me nuts. No, Liz, I don’t want to go tomorrow. I want to go tonight. At 7:15. So I can be in bed by 10. And you’d have to drag my dead body and prop open my eyes to get me to see something like Marriage Story in theaters. The Movie Trap is a big reason I usually hang out by myself, or I make plans weeks in advance. (Don't I sound like a blast.) Just the idea of being like, “I like you! Wanna hang out in October?” makes me want to collapse into a puddle of sad adulthood. Which is why on Friday at 4:30pm, when a girl I’d met a week prior asked if I wanted to grab a drink, I just said yes. I put on a pretty dress, did my makeup, put stuff in a purse, and drove the 25 minutes to town. It was really fun! And how novel to have new contacts in my phone like “Maggie blue house” and “Jess concert friend” — a throwback to the days of “Greg guy on L train” and “Devon ad party.” The very concept of not knowing someone’s last name or even needing it, and a year from now updating their contact info and smiling at your origin story. But for the most part, no one is in our phones. In terms of phone numbers collected, here is the list:

Two friends we knew prior who thank god you guys exist.

New friend who is moving away.

New friend who is game to drink tequila and ride mountain bikes.

Neighbor-not-yet-friend who I really fucking like and am not sure how to cross hang-out threshold with.

Not to say there aren’t any other prospects or people I’m platonically gaga over, but I don’t have their phone numbers. There are honestly a lot of people like this because when you live in a small town (and you’re from the Midwest) you say “oop, sorry” to every person/object you bump into, and you say “hi :)” to every person you see. These are the rules. If I drive by you and don’t wave, it’s because I was so deep in a daydream I probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. This isn’t acceptable, because in our urgency to tattoo our vaccination status on our foreheads so we can make friends, it turns out just driving by someone can be a viable strategy. A few days ago, a man was driving by our kitchen window and then our driveway, and then he reversed back up to the kitchen window and started waving. Ben went outside — it was that kind of wave. The man had seen from his car a smokejumper emblem on the back of a truck in our driveway. “Hey, are you a smokejumper?” We aren’t. But my dad was, and he was in town visiting, accompanied by the emblem on the back of his truck. The guy said we should drink sometime. Numbers were not exchanged. We’ll call that a node, because it’s not quite a connection. And it’s mainly nodes, waiting to be connected, to have relevance. But first, no matter who you’re trying to befriend, you have to answer everyone else’s Do I Care Quiz. The quiz is employed by 93% of locals to determine how they feel about you existing within their personal 50-mile radius. The first question is non negotiable:

1) Are you visiting?

Variations on this question include “how long are you in town?” or “what brings y’all to town?” or my least favorite and most insulting, “did you just finish Jeeping?” I know I have blonde hair and say y’all, but how dare you. (Also, to be clear, you can own a Jeep, customize your Jeep, mod out your Jeep, and love your Jeep, but you’re not Jeeping until you drive too fast through a tiny town so you can hurl your Jeep over a mountain pass without ever getting out of it.) So the answer to “are you visiting” is “no, I live here.” Which brings us to the next question, my favorite for how loaded the gun, kneeling in the grass, scope on, target locked it is.

2) Are you part-time or full-time?

The first time I answered this question, I didn’t realize it was essentially like asking how someone voted in the 2020 election. The judgment was cocked and ready and the palpable relief/joy/or at the very least, tolerance, exuded by answering “full-time” was like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a 40 degree day. I was fine, but wow that does feel better. The third question though does not have a standard hoped-for answer. This is where nodes turn to connections turn to phone numbers.

3) What brings you here?

It seems like the best possible answer would be saying you work in town, and you’re going to begin construction on displaced-worker housing to ensure the people who run this town can actually live in it. We’d have everyone’s phone number. Saying you’re a writer who works remotely and bought a house from a legendary and beloved local who could no longer afford it is really something you keep to yourself. But in the interest of making friends, I just word vomit my entire history. We might as well find out at the onset if I make your eyes roll back into your skull. Not at all threatening that all it takes is a single social signal misinterpreted to be the absolute death knell of my ability to make friends in a town of some 1400 adults. In fact, I’ll share one such interaction. I was hiking with Cooper, about 5 miles by foot away from my house. I was on a trail, crossing a sloped meadow, and a group was traversing up the hillside to the trail. I said hi, where y’all coming from. One girl answered and we talked about the trail. She eyed me up and down. “Did you just move here?” “I did!” “I served your family last week,” she said. “Oh,” that phrasing. “Must have been my in-laws.” “Heard you bought Jack’s house. Such a bummer when locals like that are forced out.” “We didn’t even know about his house,” I said. “We were looking at another house and he asked his realtor if he could get us to come see his house. We just loved it, and him!” She had no emotional reaction to this. “You moved from California?” she asked. (Dangerous question.) “Yeah, got these sea level lungs, haha,” attempting to disarm with humor was a failure, “but couldn’t be happier to be out of California.” “It’s not like this all year. Winter’s really hard here, you’re in for a rude awakening.” “Well California’s the last place I lived, but I’m not from there. I’ve lived in brutal winters. At least Colorado gets sun!” I laugh with cloaked loathing. “It’s different when you live at altitude,” she said, like no human aside from her had ever been literally anywhere. “Are you trying to go around?” She indicated the path behind her. “No, y’all go ahead, just gonna wait to give you your space. I’m sure you’re faster than me.” “K, good luck making it to the lake." Maybe she was thirsty. Maybe she was hungover. Maybe she just has vicious delivery, but it felt like every blade of grass was leaning against the wind to listen. She was with four other people and not one of them said a word. I left that interaction not wanting to see another human ever again. But that interaction, and her intimate knowledge of exactly which house I lived in, made me want to decorate like we lived in a gingerbread house, all candy canes and plum drops, screaming to any passerby that we’re friendly. One of the mayor’s first questions to me was “what are you going to do to the house?” There are rules here about what your house can look like, and I kept emphasizing we bought the house because we loved it, not because we wanted to change everything about it. And now, instead of wanting to decorate the interior, I want to put up shades so we don’t contribute to light pollution, I want to hang a sign by the water spigot saying “grab some if you need” for hikers and mountain bikers, I want to paint a sign for the wild mint by our door that says, “I mint to tell you to take some,” because our neighbors were openly panicked they wouldn’t be able to just grab mint from the cabin’s garden anymore. Without question, COVID makes things harder. Dinner parties feel like dares. Dropping cookies off at someone’s house feels invasive. Grabbing a drink feels like the ultimate sign of trust. But at least we have nodes who can connect who can think to invite us and who can see that despite having lived in California, we’re not all that bad. In the meantime, I’ll be painting signs about water and mint, hoping to garner the benefit of the doubt from the so beautifully, earnestly, and waiting-to-see-if-you’re-worth-it doubtful.

Subscribe to the newsletter at tinyletter.com/keltonwrites — high altitude relocation and renovation in a tiny mountain town.

#amwriting #newsletter #making friends #how to make new friends #adulthood #small town life

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citadelspires · 3 years

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P1 - Given how great you're track record's been for doing hypothetical interactions of Amphibia kids with the Duck kids and Owl House kids, let's try doing the Duck kids meeting the Owl House kids and who they'd like the best. I'll exclude Violet for this for the sake of evenening things out 5 to 5. I'd assume Luz would get along best with Dewey (both jump into adventure), King with Louie (could see em teaming up for a scheme), Willow with Huey (eh, more leftover interaction but can work)

Screenshot of second half of the ask provided. Text: P2 Gus with Webby (would totally ask each other lots of questions about their species), and Amity with Lena (both got abusive figures they stood up to and would totally talk about their crushes on Luz and Webby LOL). Would love to see you take on Duck kids and Owl House kids interactions.

First of all I’m very pleased to hear you find my track record on these posts good, they’ve been really fun to write and it makes me really happy people like them! Second I am so sorry it’s taken so long to get to this ask, it’s a really in depth one and it took a long time to write, I hope you’ll find it was worth the wait!

Aight! Oh and one last thing real quick before I get into it. I hope you wouldn’t mind me adding Violet back in, partially due to the fact I love her, but mostly because there’s actually another owl house character I think works significantly better with Louie than anyone else and I really want the chance to talk about that. Saving that one for last hehe. This’ll be another long one, writing below the cut.

Luz and Webby So I do like a lot of the possible interactions brought up by your suggested grouping but my mind went in a few different directions. I’ll start with Luz, who would fit in best with another excitable adventuring partner, as pointed out, but I think the best fit for her in that regard would actually be Webby. While Dewey would no doubt get along great with Luz, there’s a special element to the potential relationship between Luz and Webby that really elevates the potential of their friendship to another level, that being: they both want to eat a hamburger.

An aspect of Webby I wish the later seasons of the show got into a little more, but is definitely something I would consider a core part of her character, is the fact that she got held up in the mansion her whole childhood, with no opportunities to interact with the world around her, have all the adventures she wanted, and most importantly to just be seen as the kid she wanted to be. And while Luz was technically able to go out into the world, the place she found wasn’t one that was willing to see her, or give her any of the chances she longed for. Both Webby and Luz fully understand that feeling of being trapped in your own life, of finally getting the chance to break out and just doing your best to make the most of it. I think there’s a lot the two could gain from spending some time together.

(Also, to borrow the bit about gushing about their crushes but from the other end, these two would totally get sidetracked talking about their respective crushes and also trying to play wingman for each other. It’s a massive comic disaster in both cases, but somehow both Lena and Amity manage to find it endearing).

Amity and Violet Okay wait lemme explain. While the two of them don’t have a whole lot in common at first glance, I think they would genuinely get along extremely well. While a lot of Amity’s focus on school came at the force of her parents, you cannot honestly expect me to believe that girl isn’t a studious nerd on her own anyway. Heck even outside the realm of studies she throws her full dedication into literally every single thing she does. Remind you of anyone? Beyond just being extremely intelligent Violet is clever and ready for anything. She takes everything in stride and always has a plan, she can go from “we were sleeping over and you said everybody get on the plane, so we got on the plane” to “I brought an axe” in a minute flat.

I like to think the two of them would have a mutual respect for each other based on their respective intellects upon first meeting, but as they become closer friends they find they can move from more serious respect to a casual enjoyment of each other. I would go as far as to say that both of these characters really value dependability in a friend, and that they each provide a lot of that. To wrap back around to the stuff about intelligence I think Violet could provide a lot of insight to Amity as far as showing her that pursuing studies and academic heights of her own volition can be something that she can just do because she wants to, and that’s no excuse for unhealthy parental relationships. Getting along so well with someone like Violet only to see that her parents are actually really loving and supportive, that would be really eye-opening for Amity I think. For Violet’s part she could get a lot of help from Amity as far as her pursuit of the secrets of magic goes. I suspect Amity would be much more interested in the study of her magic than Violet would be able to get Lena to tolerate lol.

Bonus Round: Amity would absolutely be a senior junior woodchuck and she would love it you cannot convince me otherwise. She starts quoting the JWGB around the owl house kids and they all look at her like she’s crazy.

Lena and Willow I feel like this one might seem a little out there at first but trust me on this one. Initially Lena doesn’t think too much of Willow, being as close as she is to Webby she knows liking flowers and cute things doesn’t mean Willow is automatically to be taken lightly but she feels like she’s got a good read on her that she generally prefers to avoid trouble and turns down opportunities for violence, which isn’t really Lena’s deal. Over time Lena figures she was right about her first impressions as Willow doesn’t seem to take many opportunities to expose some hidden power, even when Lena knows the people around her kinda deserve it.

She learns to adjust her opinion when she finally does get the chance to see Willow in action and realizes that girl is more powerful than any of the other kids she’s met in the boiling aisles bar none(yes this is my genuine opinion of willow if you don’t think she could kick your ass you’re wrong). It’s at that moment where she starts to pay more attention to Willow and notices a lot more of the strength she puts into all the little things, how much she cares for everyone and everything, and it does a great deal to show Lena that maybe having super strong magic powers isn’t mutually exclusive with being kind and gentle. And maybe gentle isn’t her thing but still, it’s nice to know.

For Willow’s part she’s just happy to make more friends. Especially if the opportunity arises, as I like to think it would, when they’re close enough friends, that Lena would start to hint around asking questions about how Willow remains so casual and nice with the ability to do so much damage, and Willow takes the chance to help Lena figure out her magic a bit more, and learn how to better appreciate it as an aspect of herself she doesn’t have to be scared of. (I mean come on Lena never really learned how to do any of it except barely kind of from Magica of all people she could really use something like that).

Huey and Gus Now there are some certain things about Gus that would drive Huey absolutely nuts. His lack of primary and reliable sources for any of his information being a big one, but at the end of the day I think he’d enjoy Gus’ desire to learn in the first place. Gus would probably be a little dubious about Huey’s “sources” and “citations” but if it helped him get more info on the human realm he’d certainly go for it in the end. In that way the two balance each other out pretty well. Gus is studious and intelligent but he’s a little off the wall, he’s got a big creative streak, and he’s really excitable. Huey is really really good at facts and analysis but he lacks the strength in imagination that Gus has. Huey is able to take all the grandiose concepts Gus is able to think up and help make them actually happen. Gus has that specific brand of an adventurers soul matched up with the fact he’s not actually the type to get into danger and fights, meaning he’s able to drag Huey out of his comfort zone a little and help him reach new heights with his mind that his struggles with creativity prevent him from reaching, while managing to not make him feel like he’s actually in danger. I actually believe the two of them together could get some really incredible stuff done.

What I’m saying is that with Huey’s help Gus could absolutely complete his tunnels under Hexside.

Dewey and King Now this, this is the pair who would go incredibly well together, at the detriment of literally everyone around them. If there is one person King “I Will Rule Everything” Clawthorne should not be exposed to its Dewey Duck. Within minutes of meeting each other the two of them would immediately have so many bad ideas. Between Dewey’s insistence on being the best and most daring adventurer while putting his name on everything and going down in history & King’s trying to rule everything and everyone, the attempts to raise the stakes would be constant and the two would spend literal hours endlessly trying to one-up each other. All in one day they search for legendary treasure, discover an entirely new civilization, try to take over said civilization, create a new species just to name it after themselves, and build statues of themselves in the middle of Bonesbourough. And that’s all before lunch.

Louie Here it is. The one I waited till the very end for out of sheer excitement. I even kept the second name out of the heading thing. That’s how secretive I’m trying to be about this. See, there’s one character in the owl house that works so well with Louie it’s practically canon. Their interactions have so much potential, they each bring so much to the table, I just couldn’t Not talk about it. And yeah, I know this ask was specifically asking about the owl house and ducktales kids, but I just couldn’t resist talking about the relationship between Louie and Eda.

A con artist from another world who was so successful she became nationally famous? There’s no way Louie would pass up an opportunity like that. For his part I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already managed to set up another underworld identity in the boiling aisles, or at the very least that Eda could totally have been to the ducktales realm and heard of his one there.

Either way I’m convinced the two of them would start planning a heist as soon as they figure out who each other are. Eda is a little prideful and wants to show this kid he can’t out-con her, but Louie knows what he’s doing just as much. Honestly with the two of them combined Eda wouldn’t have to worry about losing her stand for a long time. Over the course of their planning and seeing Louie in action Eda begrudgingly gains some respect for the kid, and while Louie was definitely just using her as a learning/profit opportunity at first, he’s pretty susceptible to getting attached.

For Louie, it’s the fact that she actually respects him for being good at what he does. Even back with his family who all love and care about him and all that he still feels like most of them don’t really get what he does or see what’s special about him, so having someone who made a whole life of it be even a little proud of him feels really nice.

And of course, at the end of their heist when they finally have the money in hand, and Eda just casually hands over his half, he stares at her like she’s crazy.

“You’re just.. Giving it to me?!”

“Well, yeah. That was the deal wasn’t it kid? I mean if you really want I definitely have a few ideas for it.”

“No! Uh, no, thanks, I’ll keep it. It’s just that you really remind me of someone, I guess I was expecting something else.”

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jjungkookislife · 3 years

Text

Quarterly Fic Recs 2021

Hello! This is my first recs list so I’m not sure if I’ve done this correctly, but here are fics I’ve read, loved and thoroughly enjoyed in the first quarter of 2021! They are all very wonderful fics! Each story has its own genre, warnings (and are 18+), so please take that into consideration before reading. If any authors would like me to untag them, please let me know. Enjoy!

Seokjin

golden boy @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The golden boy of the porn industry, prettier than half his female co-stars. Will sue if you pull his hair. Always bothering his neighbors with pizza delivery.

Yoongi

finding big foot @bloomsuga

summary: you set out to hike the pacific crest trail in search of yourself… instead you found him

Jimin

steamy waters @oftenderweapons-a-companion

summary: it’s been a while since Jimin has returned from the tour. Princess is supposed to meet with Vixen and Lace — Girls’ Night squad is back — for dinner and is missing only a few details before leaving when Jimin presents his counterarguments. Too benevolent to leave him sulking — and too vulnerable to his charms — Princess decides she has enough time to indulge him. Of course she ends up being late to the appointment, but she’s not the only one.

Taehyung

the snow king @/bloomsuga

summary: cursed to freeze anything he touches, prince taehyung built a castle of ice to keep everyone else out. what he didn’t plan on? you getting in

enemy @btssmutgalore

summary: Taehyung may be cocky, but he has every reason to be. After all, he never gets turned down by women – at least not until he meets you.

Jungkook

ancient history @moononthejoon

summary: there is no way to deny that you and Jungkook have chemistry. the two of you used to be a couple, after all. what happens when after a not-so-amicable breakup the two of you are cast as opposite leads of a movie?

bound @/btssmutgalore

ASK: Imagine Koo on his knees in front of you so that you can bury your fingers in his now blonde hair and pull his head back so he looks all vulnerable and ready to be devoured by you with his throat exposed. Oh, did I mention that his hands are tied behind his back in red silk and you stripped him of his shirt? Have fun with that mental image!

viki & hickeys @1kook

summary: Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

gold rush @venusiangguk

summary: jk comes back from a weekend away and he wants to show you just how much he missed you.

teeth @sweetbunnykook

summary: Your obedient servant has a craving only you can satiate.

oops wrong wedding @ppersonna

summary: jungkook drives you to the wrong wedding

bad behavior @noteguk

summary: in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while.

bad influence ^

summary; in which you know Jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

after hours @zibermuda

summary: after your boss hires a second assistant, you feel the pressure of being outperformed more now than ever. A blind date, a tight skirt, and a cup of jealously is the perfect recipe to bake a your-boss-fucks-you-against-your-desk-because-you’re-his-favourite-assistant cake. How sweet!

concrete king @bratkook

summary: when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor theres no way you could you ever say no to him

OT7

nutjobs @ironicarmy

summary: Eight friends. One terrible idea. A whole lot of trouble. Welcome to No Nut November.

Namjoon

cinderella!joon @jinpanman

will you let me? @/bratkook

summary: Namjoon wants nothing more than to see you stuffed full of his cum, and as his mind starts to wander with thoughts of the future, he has to know if you’d let him.

Jungkook

swipe right @/ppersona

summary: after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, Jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

another taste @/bratkook

summary: full of adrenaline after a show, Jungkook just wants to see you fall apart on his tongue.

Yoongi

of fire and love @hollyhomburg

summary: When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops off a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of the woods.

Namjoon

break up with your girlfriend @lovetrivia

summary: After his long time girlfriend, Yuri, rejects his proposal and confesses to cheating on him, the two “go on a break”. However, a beautiful student retaking the Human Sexuality class he TAs for may be the breaking point.

heated @joonsgalore

summary: Namjoon is your own personal living, breathing, walking furnace.

fool for you @cutechim

summary: he may be your best friend, but he’s still only second best.

lost in the funhouse @dovechim

prisoner!namjoon au

Jungkook

commercial break; eight @/1kook

summary: You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.

e2l!jungkook ^

summary: e2l jungkook checking out his annoying ass coworker

piece of you @dntaewithluv

summary: After three months of pining over the cute delivery boy, as well as ordering a questionable amount of pizza, you decide to finally shoot your shot with him by slipping him your number during one of his deliveries. When Jungkook actually takes you up on your offer and calls you on a Friday night to see if you have plans, you’re quick to invite him over. Seeing the blonde haired beauty at your door with pizza and beer in hand makes you think maybe you’re in for something a little extra tonight, and that for once it won’t just be the cheese on the pizza.

thirty four, thirty five @sunshinekims

summary: you and jungkook had two rules in your apartment: no stealing clothes and no hooking up with each other…too bad you guys broke both of those rules because of a TikTok trend. or was it all bad? you’re certainly not complaining, especially if it means you getting with your roommate. roomies to lovers! au

sweeter than sugar @jungkxook

summary: when infamous playboy jeon jungkook comes to you with a proposition that you know you should say no to, you can’t. because all you really know is that being spoiled has never felt so sweet before

#jjungkookislife fic recs #fic recs masterlist #fic recs 2021 #jjungkookislife fic recs masterlist

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i-drink-and-i-write-fics · 3 years

Text

Let It Die

Chapter 2: If You Love Me

Summary: Loki makes a plan with Thor to win back Reader’s heart.

Your room had become your personal ice castle. Small frozen ice sculptures were decorating your window sills while a light ring of frost surrounded the window panes. Snow lightly covered your dresser and nightstand while your bed was piled high with thick blankets. Not that you really needed them. As an ice queen once said: the cold never bothered you anyway.

Not that your were like the ice mutant on the X-Men team; you couldn’t turn your whole body into movable ice. But you thrived when the temperature dropped. Which was also a downside. You could never go on missions in desert areas. No moisture in the air meant no powers for you.

When you met Loki, you felt all your dreams came true. You never had to worry about accidentally freezing him in your sleep. And with your mutation, his frost giant skin never harmed you. Not that he showed that form very often.

He had a sweet side to him no one else had seen and could make you feel like the most important person in the world. Loki also had the bad habit of cutting you into pieces, as if dissecting you would help him understand humanity better. All he accomplished was cutting into your self esteem.

You couldn’t understand why you were so upset. It was no secret that he would have outlived you without even trying. There were rumors, whispers that there were ways to make a mortal live as long as an Asgardian - er, frost giant. But since Loki never once brought it up in the two years you had dated, you just assumed there was no truth to them. And you hated the idea of looked so old and worn next to him in 50 years while he looked untouched by time.

There was a gentle knock on the door followed by a familiar voice. “Hey hon. Can we come in? We promise mortals only.”

You smiled and shook your head before opening the door to let Natasha and Wanda in. “Hey guys. Sorry about earlier. I just wasn’t in the mood to look at yet another gift from the dumbass.”

“Don’t worry about it. If anything, it’s been the liveliest we’ve seen you in months!” Wanda sat down on your bed and immediately wrapped a blanket around her. Nat followed suit. Both of their breaths were visible.

“Well, sorry about the temp in here, then.” You chuckled as you sat back down. “I guess I don’t have many guests in here as of late.”

“It’s ok, really. Your comfort is number one right now.” Nat tried to reassure you. “Besides, we were hoping to get you to leave your igloo tonight.”

You laughed again. “Ok, ok. I get it. My powers have been out of control lately. Every time I think I’m back to normal, Loki comes around and fucks it up all over again.”

“Want me to kill him?” Nat asked, deadpanned.

“Thanks, but that won’t help. My problem is I still love the asshole. And I don’t even know why! Yeah, he could be really romantic at times and-“ you paused and gave the girls a side glance, "other reasons as well. I’ll spare you.”

“Thanks,” Nat pretended to gag. “I personally don’t see it, but I also had to battle against him at one time.”

You smirked. “Fair. But man, he could really be a douche at times. I don’t even think he realized he was doing it half the times. I’d do something and instead of being proud, he’d point out what I did wrong. Made me want to punch him in the nuts.”

“So why do you hang on?“ You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I mean no offence, but it seems like there a small part of you that still hangs on. Like I get you still love the guy, but what’s there that’s making you hang on instead of trying to move on?”

You sighed and leaned back into your chair. “Ok, so maybe I do know why I still love him. Loki…. has this side that no one but Thor and I have seen and I wish he would let it out around more people. He has an amazingly kind heart. Yeah, I know, I know.” You held up your had as Nat opened her mouth. “I literally just said the man could be a douche at times. The times he criticized me, it was for things that pertained to our job. I didn’t throw the knife right. My stance is too wide. I breathe too loud, the enemy will hear me. But when it came to everyday life…. he could’t praise me enough. He loved to watch me cook and listen to me sing. Snow days…” you sighed, “those were my favorite. But I wanted his approval for work. How could we work together on a mission when all I could think about was how I wasn’t doing something correctly? And then the mortality thing….”

“It all comes down then to if he can reign in how much he criticizes your work would it be worth it to try again when he’ll just outlive you?”

“Pretty much. But I doubt that will happen. That man likes to think he’s the best when it comes to fighting and war. Just because he’s a freakin’ god.”

Wanda looked over at Nat and nodded her head. “Ok, sweetie. Enough moping! We’re getting your out of here and clearing your head. So get dressed, it’s time for a night out!”

You couldn’t help the smile. “Yeah, maybe that is a good idea. If I clear my head maybe I’ll be able to control my powers better even if I never make a decision about Loki.”

“That’s the spirit!” They left you to change your clothes and you opted for dark black pants, black and silver boots, and a icy blue top.

You met the girls in the common area and Nat had opted for a stunning tight, black dress while Wanda wore a dress the same shade of red as her hair. The three of you piled into a car Nat had hired for the night and headed into town. Wanda picked out a very upscale club and the three of you managed to talked you way in past the bouncer and the incredibly long line. The place was packed but the three of you managed to make your way over to the bar to grab a drink before trying to find a table.

“Man, it’s hella packed in here! Maybe we should have invited Stark so we could abuse the VIP section.” You shouted over the music.

“You rang?”

You whirled around to find Tony at your side. “What are you doing here?”

“Night out, of course! I even brought my own lady.” Pepper looped her arm in his. “Actually, Nat told us what she had planned for tonight and we decided to tag along. We’ve been worried about you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Tony leaned over and kissed your forehead. “Don’t worry about it, kid. We’re all here tonight.”

“We?”

Tony just smirked and held out his other arm. You couldn’t help the grin as you took it so he could lead you across the crowded club. People immediately parted out of the way of your entourage as you made your way to the VIP corner. There a mix of your friends were waiting for you: Sam, Steve, Bucky, Thor, Rhodey, Vision, and Maria.

“Young Mr. Parker sends his regards. He was dying to come here, but I wasn’t about to break the rules to sneak him in.”

“Glad to hear you’re trying to be a good influence on the kid, Stark.”

“I have my moments.”

You climbed into the booth next to Thor while Tony and Rhodey pulled over another set of table and chairs. “So you guys subjected yourself to an overly crowded club just because you were worried about me?”

“Of course, Dear ____!” Thor’s voice easily boomed over the music. “We are your friends and we care about you.”

You looked down at your drink as you spoke to Thor. “And what about your brother?”

“Loki sends his regards if you’ll have them. He acknowledges he has been an ass to you lately.”

A corner of your mouth twitched upwards. “It’s what he does best.”

“If I may, I would like to say something on his behalf.” You took a deep breath but nodded your head yes. “My brother is not the best at expressing his feelings. A trait, I am afraid, he learned from Odin. You do not have to give him a second chance, but I would hope you could at least have one last conversation with him before making your finally decision.”

You took a long gulp of your drink before answering. “Alright, I will. For you, Thor. You’ve always been like a brother to me. If this means so much to you, then I will.”

Thor’s face lit up as he smiled at you. “I was hoping you would say yes. Now we can get to your surprise!”

“My what?”

Before Thor could answer, the DJ’s voice rang out through the speakers. “This next one is a request. Dedicated to the Icy Monarch from the Frost Giant!”

You whipped your head to look at Thor. “Loki’s here?! What’s going on?”

Thor held up one hand. “Just listen, Dear _____.”

The song began to swirl around you:

I cut you into pieces Searching for your imperfections I had plans to make you whole But all my threads couldn’t stop the bleeding There’s nothing left, but I’m not leaving When all I know is you

You’re breath caught in your throat as you listened to the lyrics.

I’ve been looking for a way To bring you back to life And if I could find a way, then I would bring you back tonight I’d make you look, I’d make you lie I’d take the coldness from your eyes But you told me, if you love me Let it die

Your eyes stare right through me Ignoring my failed attempts to Breathe back life into your veins But I can’t start your cold heart beating You’re so far gone, but I’m not leaving When all I know is you

It was like your relationship and the last two months following the break up coming to life in front of your eyes. And then he walked into your line of sight and goddamn, he could always make a suit look good. Black suit, black shirt, a tie as green as his eyes, and a small black box in his hands. Your heart raced as he quietly walked up to you and set the box by your drink. Everyone at the table sat as still as statues, not wanting to disturb the scene in front of them.

You reached for the box and began to open it as the end of the song rang out:

And you left me more dead Than you’ll ever know When you left me alone I’ve been looking for a way To bring you back to life And if I could find a way, then I would bring you back tonight I’d make you look, I’d make you lie I’d take the coldness from your eyes But you told me, if you love me Let it die

Inside the box was a single gold apple. It was the oddest thing Loki had ever given you and you weren’t sure as to what it was. Picking it up, it was instantly clear that the apple was far lighter than you expected and softer as well. As if you could actually eat the golden fruit.

You raised your eyes back up to the Trickster God. “My dear, I have behaved horribly towards you. You loved me more than I ever deserved and I couldn’t even give you what you needed. If it is possible, I would like a second chance to prove I can be worthy of your love. And in exchange, I present the Golden Apple of Idun’s orchard.”

“I’m-I’m sorry. A what?”

“A golden apple. It is to be consumed by a mortal wishing to extend their life. Forgive me, I never brought them up before as I feared you would only want the apple. Not me. No one has ever wanted me for what I was.”

You looked up into his eyes. “I did. In any form you would give me.”

He knelt down by your side. “I know that now and I am a fool for not seeing it sooner. I know it is asking for the world, but I would love to give us a second chance. Because you are my world.”

Your lower lip trembled and you placed the apple back before closing the lid on the box. Loki’s face fell. “I cannot accept this apple.”

“Of course. I understand.” He lowered his eyes.

“Loki, please let me finish.” You placed your hand under his chin and lifted his face so he was looking at you again. “I will not accept this apple at this time. We first need to talk about the problems we have and if it’s possible to fix them. Only after we have gotten our footing back will I eat the apple for you.”

“So…”

“Yes, Loki. I will give us a second chance.”

Loki’s joy was clear on his face and beyond words. He stood up, pulling you with him, so he could engulf you in a hug. “I promise to make myself worthy of this chance. You are my love.”

“And you are my Frost Giant.” You gave him a quick kiss.

#fanfic #fan fic #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #let it die #loki x gn!reader #loki #gn!reader #gender neutral reader

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tooruluv · 4 years

Text

Tooru Oikawa x F!Reader ( part 6 )

❝ my love for him is much like winter, a skeleton for the world to see. too bad he never liked the cold. ❞

description: being the neighbor and lifelong best friend of tooru oikawa definitely had it’s perks. you were never an outcast, always had a seat at lunch, got into volleyball games for free. the problem was, however, that being in love with him outweighed those perks. you would never tell him that, though, even if it hurt like hell.

genre: best friends to lovers, angst, unrequited love, fluff if you squint hard enough

word count: 2,182

warnings/notes: didn’t know yall were SIMPS for kuroo... anyway here’s more angst for y’all

tag list: @afuckingunicornn @maii-flowers @clandestinerays @brownandchill @readeretal @wedojustbevibin @shigarakiskitten @shittykawaa @saeranoppa @srirachibi

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“I brought the good nacho popcorn seasoning!” Kuroo told you as he rummaged around inside of his bag.

Tetsurou Kuroo had become a close friend in a short amount of time (it seems as though that was something happening to you often, these days). The “mall date” was full of conversation and laughter. You found out he was an only child, played volleyball himself and went to some camp, that he’s never had a girlfriend, and that he’s actually very funny. He grew on you.

You both sat on the couch, claiming it from your parents as you usually do on Saturday nights. This time, it was just with a different boy. Your parents didn’t mind.

Kuroo tossed the bottle to you once he found it. You caught it, and immediately started to pour it into the bowl that was full of popcorn and m&m’s.

Not too long after, the both of you had a scary movie on. You both sat on the couch, the bowl on the table in front of you. He sat with one leg tucked under his outstretched one, his arms crossed into his hoodie pockets. You sat next to him, a couple inches between so you don’t rub your leg against his. Your legs were brought to your chest.

“Are you cold?” Kuroo asked you, leaning forward to get a better look at your face.

“Just a little.”

Before you could protest, he took his hoodie off and held it out for you. You were about to deny his offer when he decided to lean back and literally shove the thing onto your head.

You were giggling when you pulled your arms through. “Thank you, but I could’ve just grabbed a blanket.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He turned his attention back to the TV. Was that a blush? “You look good in red.”

You couldn’t help but smile. You moved closer to him, your body flush with his. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, something you hadn’t felt in a minute, and both of you smiled as someone got killed on screen.

Tooru Oikawa had always been your safety net. He was the one you went to for absolutely everything, even if it was a minor inconvenience. He was the one you called if you were lost, the one you exchanged looks with when the teacher would say something that could be passed as an innuendo, the one you would go to if you had a splinter or broken nail. And that safety would go both ways.

He would always show up in the middle of the night, or ask you to join him on the occasional Monday for you to watch him practice when he’s supposed to have the day off, or even facetime you just because.

Yet, this time, when you received a very drunk call from Oikawa, it didn’t feel normal.

You missed the call (it was at five in the morning), but you were left a very long voicemail from the boy.

“Nut!~” He slurred into the phone, basically directly onto the speaker. “Hello love. Hi. I drank a lot tonight. By myself. Very good. I should do this more often.”

You smiled to yourself. Oikawa hated being drunk, he would always make a point to never drink whenever he had the opportunity to. It was cute, the slurred and soft-spoken version of Oikawa you were receiving.

“I just wanted to say. I miss you. A lot. That’s why I came over the other day. I have so much I want to tell you but I…” Something muffled the speaker, and you couldn’t hear what exactly he was saying after that. Until, “Yeah, I just miss you a lot. I sleep now.”

You listened to it again.

Iwaizumi sent you a text Sunday. You were at dinner with your parents, out at some restaurant for the night. You went to the bathroom to read it (your parents had a rule: no phones at the dinner table if you’re eating as a family).

“I told my parents.” It said.

“You don’t drink.” You said to Oikawa Monday morning. You didn’t look at him, both of you at your lockers. He sent you a look.

“I don’t drink.” He repeated.

You finally shut your locker and looked up at him. The first time in a long time that you were talking. He seemed taller, thinner.

“Why were you drunk this weekend?”

Oikawa’s eyes wouldn’t meet yours. He shook his head. “I wasn’t.”

“You’re lying to me now?”

He shut his locker and started to walk down the hall. Before he could get far, you stepped in front of him and cut him off. He stopped.

“I got a voicemail from you.” You told him, and his eyes shot to yours. “I miss you, too. I don’t know why you won’t talk to me, but I miss you too.”

For a moment, it was just the both of you standing alone in the hallway. Like nothing else really mattered. He was finding the right words to say, and you waited for him to reply. Your chest was aching, and you wanted to throw the word “love” at him right then.

“I…I miss you a lot.” He finally said. You held back a smile. “But, um, can we talk? Later?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” You were too eager, you knew. “We can talk later.”

Oikawa sent you a smile, something you missed, and your eyes found his tie. Before thinking, you reached up to tighten it. He chuckled.

“Yeah, I can’t fucking get this shit right.” He told you, letting you bring him closer to push it up. “Sana’s been fixing it at breakfast but I was running late this morning so we didn’t go.”

“Good thing I’m always here, huh?”

You walked next to Iwaizumi and Matsukawa on the way to lunch (the library). They were holding hands, openly smiling and giggling and being gay. You loved it.

“What was it like?” You asked them as you sat at the usual table.

“When I told my mom that I liked guys and I think I’m bisexual, do you want to know what she said?” Iwaizumi asked you. You nodded. “She said, and I quote, “well I can’t blame you, I like guys too”. I was so nervous for nothing. My dad even told me that it was okay and he’s fine with it as long as I’m happy, he just didn’t want to hear the details.”

“Your mom is iconic.”

Tooru Oikawa was not someone who could hide in a crowd. You could always pick him out of everyone, always spot him through the human traffic. It also helped that he was tall.

That being said, you found him instantly.

He wanted to meet at a park, as he was watching his nephew and his older brother was at work. You joined, of course, and you always found his nephew adorable.

You sat on the bench next to him. The very first time you have ever felt uncomfortable enough to sit further away from him. He noticed.

“We almost kissed.” He finally said, eyes following his nephew on the playset. He seemed tense, back straight and hands clasped together.

“Yeah.” You twisted your fingers in your lap. “Almost.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” You were forgiven weeks ago.

“I do, though.” Oikawa finally looked at you. “I almost kissed you when I just became official with Sana the night before. I shouldn’t have done that. And I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t upset about you almost kissing me.” You told him, staring at him. “I was never mad at that. It’s you ignoring me and avoiding me like the plague that I don’t particularly enjoy.”

“Right.” He bit the inside of his mouth. “I just…I couldn’t really…I felt really guilty. Having enough feelings to kiss you, but standing hand in hand with Sana. I haven’t told her about it.”

“I haven’t either.”

“Yeah, you two are close.”

“She’s very nice, and good company.” You told him. “You chose a good one.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

He blinked a couple of times, like his eyes would fix what he heard. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Everything. Me and Iwa talked some shit about you.”

“I’m not surprised, I’ve been acting like a dick.”

“Ah, we prefer the word asshole.”

You both chuckled, and you ducked your head. His eyes were back on his nephew, who waved at you both from the top of the castle.

“Listen, I’m not going to push you to be my friend again.” You said. “If I make you uncomfortable or make you question your relationship, I’m not going to be mad at you.”

“Be your friend again.” He mumbled, shaking his head like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “I never considered us not being friends. And you would never make me uncomfortable, ever. I just…”

“I know.” You stood up. His eyes jumped to you, head tilting up. “Let me know when you figure out whatever you need to figure out. Until then, I’m still right next door and a drunk call away.”

His mouth gaped as if you offended him, but there was a smile behind it. “God damn it, nut, just delete the voicemail!”

“No, I think I’ll keep it.” You brought your phone out and played it. His drunken slur came over the speakers. “Nut! Hello love. Hi!” you mocked him as his voice played.

Oikawa stood up, face red. “Oh my god! Stop! That’s embarrassing!”

He chased you as you continued to mimic him over the voicemail. You didn’t know every word, of course, but you knew when he was going to say certain things. You laughed as he chased you onto the playground.

“Takeru! Help!” you called, holding the phone up so Oikawa couldn’t get it.

“No, Takeru!” he called for his nephew. “Give me the phone, she’s a traitor!”

“Nice try, Uncle.” Takeru grabbed your phone and shook it from his spot on the very top. “She already told me that you were the spy for the English. We must take you to jail! Thank you, Auntie, for the valuable information. We will promote you to Head Knight.”

You giggled at Oikawa’s surprised and embarrassed face. You mouthed “Head Knight” at him, pointing at yourself. He rolled his eyes, but kept smiling at you.

You wore Kuroo’s hoodie the next time you met up with him. A fun fact about Kuroo: the man loves coffee. So, you weren’t surprised when he asked to meet at a coffee shop around the corner from where you buy alcohol. You wonder what he would say if you told him about buying shit from there.

“Damn, that hoodie looks familiar.” He told you when you sat across from him.

“Yeah, it’s comfy.” You said, smiling. “A pretty cool dude let me borrow it.”

“Ah, he let you keep it.” He corrected, hands already around a warm cup of black coffee.

You raised a brow. “I guess I’ll keep it then.”

“So…” Sana threw a piece of candy into the air to catch in her mouth. “You and Kuroo?”

This time, it was Iwaizumi and Sana at your house. Your two best friends. It was a strange combo, to you, as you always separated them in your head. But they actually got along quite easily, immediately started to roast and complain about Oikawa.

The three of you were in your bedroom. You sat on your bed, Iwaizumi on the floor by the door, and Sana sat in your desk chair. You were playing a game: try to catch the candy in your mouth. So far, Iwaizumi was winning (he hadn’t missed a single one, even if your throws were trash).

“What about me and Kuroo?”

“Oh, come on,” Sana scoffed, shaking her head. “You have been spending a lot of time with him. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill.” You caught a piece she threw up for you. As you chewed, “We’re very good friends. He’s cool.”

“Alright that’s it. Who is it?”

“Who is what?” you blinked.

“The other boy.”

You gulped, looking quickly at Iwaizumi. He just looked at you, wide eyed and confused.

“You told me that you’ve had a thing for another boy for a long time but he doesn’t feel the same.” Sana continued, her attention fully on you. “And he’s obviously the reason that you’re not going for Kuroo. You’re in love with someone else, and you’re throwing away a perfectly good relationship with someone who actually likes you.” She leaned forward. “So, I’ll ask again. Who is the boy?”

You didn’t say anything, your silence the only answer you could give. Iwaizumi’s eyes went back and forth between you two, staying just as silent.

“Who is it?” Sana asked again, held tilted. When you looked at the floor, it was like a rush of realization dawned on her. The air turned tense, but not negative. Like you couldn’t breathe.

“Oh.”

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s1utspeare · 3 years

Note

Hi darling

You write such an awesome metas on fictional character so I wanted you to ask that what's your thought on Huo Dao Fu.

😊

AH OMG!!! Your ask could not have come at a better time, cause I have a feeling this man’s gonna be an important part of my next fic, so I really should start figuring him out. He’s SUCH A LIL WEIRDO??? honestly i love him, even though he’s a total Bitch 97% of the time, but I think at heart he’s just Looking For Something, as are all the characters in this show.

What really interests me about Huo Daofu are his character parallels with Wu Xie, and I think that’s where most of the conflict between them comes in. Wu Xie, whether he means to be or not, is the Focus of Jiumen a good seventy-five percent of the time. Not always in a positive manner, because in Sha Hai they were all about ready to kick his ass, and in Reboot he pisses them off pretty good with his Warehouse Eleven stunts, but there’s a level of attention on him that other members of the families don’t receive, and I think Huo Daofu notices that, and is like “hey wait a minute why is he getting all the spotlight I want some spotlight >:( He’s not even doing a good job why is everyone paying attention to him”

Cause this bitch. THIS BITCH. He tried to be that bitch. He TRIED SO HARD. He went to EUROPE. He went to EUROPE and got a fucking like??? medical degree???? Like he went to GERMANY??? who does that?? not fucking wu xie, that’s who. Wu Xie went and got like a history degree or some shit which was just par for the course. But HUO DAOFU. He was DIFFERENT. He was gonna be THE SHIT. He was gonna be the unabomber of Jiumen, was gonna blow all that shit up and then say “fuck u” and all the future generations of Jiumen children were gonna hear horror stories about how Unique and Wild Huo Daofu was and he was never gonna have to deal with any of them ever again.

BUT THEN WU XIE DECIDED TO BE PUBLIC ENEMY NUMBER ONE AND HE DIDN’T EVEN DO ANYTHING OFF THE BEATEN PATH. HE LITERALLY JUST FOLLOWED WU SANXING AROUND FOR LIKE. A YEAR. AND EVERYONE LOST THEIR MINDS. Like if I had been Huo Daofu and tried SO HARD to be different from everyone else in my generation and then this Dumb Little History Twink kissed a Zhang and found some wild swamp treasure and everyone went nuts about it, I would have been pissed off too.

Cause Jiumen is like. Annoying as hell, and everyone has a different way to deal with the fact that they’re a part of a treasure hunting org that has been around for hundreds of years and features immortals and weird-ass dudes with unbelievable martial arts skills and also Wu Sanxing. Xiaoge deals with them by Fucking Off Forever. Zhang Rishan deals with them by being The Most Competent Person In Any Given Room, and Huo Daofu deals with them by being The Biggest Bitch He Can Be, which isn’t even that much of a bitch, because there is always going to be a bigger bitch in Jiumen, and his name is Wu Xie. So it just backfires on him, because NO ONE GIVES A SINGLE FUCK.

We’re introduced to him at Xiao Hua’s fake funeral (which lmao i love that) when he’s making some Evil Plans with the rest of Jiumen, but not for the same reasons, cause when they actually get to the desert, Huo Daofu does not care about the treasure pits. He doesn’t even go down into Gutongjing (I’m pretty sure), he just hangs out in the camps because he doesn’t CARE about the treasure, he just wants to keep Wu Xie from succeeding, wants to say, see, look, I can do things too, I can be clever and cunning, I can take them all down from the inside out and I don’t even need friends to do it.

Huo Daofu is jealous of Wu Xie, I think, because Wu Xie is free of the confines of Jiumen, and Wu Xie has friends, and Wu Xie didn’t have to go to another country where he knew no one and didn’t even speak the language and work so hard and be fucking brilliant in ways that no one knows about and doesn’t always, always get overlooked in favor of someone who disregards everyone’s favor, but receives it anyway.

So when Pangzi shows up with Wu Xie, half-dead, on Huo Daofu’s doorstep, I think a little vindictive part of him goes serves him right.

But Huo Daofu is not a part of Jiumen in the ways that matter, and he’s a doctor, first and foremost. He took oaths because he wants to help people, he wants to save them, and even if he hates Wu Xie down in the pits of his stomach, he’s not just going to let him die. And so he follows Wu Xie to thunder city because, as he says, “I want to be there when you die.” He’s not going to kill him, he can’t do that, he’s a doctor, but that small, mean part of him wants to watch Wu Xie fall.

(Also I love @kholran’s headcanon that Huo Daofu is Wu Xie’s bitchy ex, bc like YES??? OF COURSE???? like they had an on-again, off-again thing cause they were like “we’re not doing this with the Jiumen women” but they’re WAY TOO ALIKE and just ended up fighting all the time.)

Reboot loves the Rule of Threes, which is where an idea is repeated three times in order to create a pleasing pattern. Human brains love patterns, and so when we see the Iron Triangle, when we see the three pills that mark the stages of Wu Xie’s illness, when we see the three missing people from Sanshu’s journey, our brains go oh that’s important (and Reboot ALMOST kills the game, ALMOST knocks it out of the park, but then they have FOUR story arcs instead of THREE, and it drives me ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANE. WHY DID THEY DO THIS. WHY).

And Huo Daofu is a FANTASTIC tri-tier replica of Wu Xie’s Greatest Hits, which are:

Being a sort of outcast/family runaway (Wu Xie has very clearly said Fuck Everyone Who Isn’t Sanshu, and Huo Daofu has aligned himself with the Chen clan, because the Huo’s are like Fuck Men (which honestly good for them but pLEASE love ur special doctor boy he’s getting a Complex))

Acting based almost Solely on Emotions when in the Heat of the Moment (i.e. dropping his entire life to go play doctor with a man who will not calm down for any length of time in order to actual REST)

Solving problems that no person should be able to solve because he’s smart as shit

Narratively, he’s a FANTASTIC foil for Wu Xie, because not only does he essentially hold this man’s life in his hands, but because he is what Wu Xie could have been if he hadn’t met Pangzi or Xiaoge, if he hadn’t had support from other people. And I don’t think that’s Huo Daofu’s fault, because he and Wu Xie are so, so similar. He just never got the people he needed, and its so clear that he’s achingly alone all of the time, so no wonder he’s jealous of Wu Xie and wants to become part of this little group so damn badly, even as he’s protesting and saying, “no, no, I want you to die, literally nothing would give me more pleasure, please die right now, I’m waiting.”

Sure, he’s a flipper-flopper ass bitch, but he’s trying his best with what he’s got, and shit, that’s not a lot. He’s got zero support system. I mean why the fuck is he making street churros? Even Zhang Rishan, who has NO culinary expertise or connections whatsover, gets to live in a restaurant, while Huo Daofu has to make fried dough in an alley and then keep people from choking on their own lungs on his damn kitchen table. Someone please help this man.

this is SO LONG i’m sorry but essentially I think that Huo Daofu is Like That because he’s trying so hard to be someone, and no one is paying any attention, and the person he would most relate to, Wu Xie, is off doing God knows what with his polycule of friends and Huo Daofu’s all by himself and like??? i would be SO FRUSTRATED??? please give this man a break and also give him Love??? like, this screenshot speaks VOLUMES (photo credit to @hey-its-wei)

LOOK AT HIM!!!!! LOOK AT HOW FUCKING HAPPY HE LOOKS!!!! JUST TO BE THERE!!!! WITH A GROUP OF PEOPLE!!!!! WHO HAVE SEEN HIM AND LISTENED AND SAID “hey, you can come with us, we’ll take you, you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

I said earlier that Huo Daofu, like everyone else in this series, was Looking For Something. And like many of our beloved Wu Crew, he was looking for a family. And look! He found them :)

#thank you so much for this ask???#i literally cried when i got it it made me so so happy #i love u nonny!!#dmbj #the lost tomb #the lost tomb reboot #huo daofu #huo dao fu #sha hai #tlt #tltr #meta #character meta

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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 3 years

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The Broadway Revival Doesn’t Get Comedy

Here’s another long essay hating on the Broadway Revival. I promise that this will be the last one of these, because I think I’ve summed up all the problems I have with it by this point.

The title of this essay isn’t universally true. There is good comedy in the Broadway Revival. But, most of it comes from the actors improvising. When it comes to the comic relief numbers of the show, the changes in choreography and staging, and even in plot in one case, generally fail to understand how the jokes in the numbers work.

Now, I know that explaining the joke makes it less funny, but in order to explain why the 2016 comedy doesn’t work, I’ll have to explain why older versions do. Why is the 1998 film funny, and why are bootlegs/pro-shots of earlier productions funny, in places where 2016 falls flat?

To begin with, you might be wondering, “in a show full of strange nonsense and little concrete plot, what would you call a comic relief number?”. There are plenty of numbers in the show that have a comedic tone to them that I don’t consider comic relief numbers. The Rum Tum Tugger is usually full of comedic bits, for example, but it’s not a comic relief number. Why? Because it does something other than be funny and lighten the mood. It’s a song all about a major character who’s just appeared. Apart form Chorus Tugger in the opening, who usually doesn’t stand out much, we haven’t seen Tugger yet. After the cats leave after The Naming of Cats, we don’t see him again until his own number, where he interrupts the party to tell us what he’s all about. Tugger, as a character, is introduced as high-energy and a troublemaker, which leads to comedy, so the song has comedic moments, but it’s not purely a comic relief number.

Most songs in Cats are like this. They’re songs about what makes a character tick, and because these characters are onstage for most of the show, it’s good to let the audience get to know them. But, there are a few numbers in the show that don’t introduce characters and don’t advance the plot. They’re just entertaining little skits that don’t fit anywhere else. These are the comic relief numbers.

In a full production of Cats, in which no songs are cut, there are three comic relief numbers: Bustopher Jones, The Pekes and the Pollicles, and Growltiger’s Last Stand. The first one might be confusing. Bustopher Jones introduces a character. Shouldn’t it count as one of the character songs like The Rum Tum Tugger? The difference is that, while Tugger sticks around and plays a role in other events of the show, Bustopher is only present for his number. He shows up, there’s a song, and then he leaves and is never seen again. This makes the number into something of a non-sequiter.

Gus the Theatre Cat also revolves around a character who’s really only there for his own song. In productions that cut Growltiger, this is all you see of him. But, Gus the Theatre Cat isn’t a comic relief number because it’s one of the few songs that doesn’t have a comedic tone. There are jokes here and there, and in most stage productions the character of Gus is more comedic than he is in the 1998 film, but the song has a softer tone, no dancing, and Gus eventually leaves in tears. Though the 1998 film stands out in this regard, even in other productions, this is not a comic relief number.

Another thing you’ll notice is that Bustopher Jones, The Pekes and the Pollicles, and Growltiger all come after more serious, less energetic numbers. Grizabella the Glamor Cat and Gus the Theatre Cat are both quite sad, and the play basically changes the subject to lighten the mood. Old Deuteronomy isn’t sad, but it’s slow and more serious. When the tone of the show starts to get serious, a comic relief number is added to lighten the mood. The pattern breaks with Macavity, with the song followed by a fight, to show that the stakes have been raised and things are getting serious. Mister Mistoffelees comes along as a more upbeat number, but the change in tone here is pretty much a plot point. Everything seems bleak and then Tugger starts this number to give everyone hope. Mistoffelees restores power after the light goes out as part of this shift. We were at our literal darkest moment and now there’s a spark of hope.

So, now that we know what numbers are comic relief numbers, it’s time to go into how and why they work, or how and why they don’t when things go wrong. Since the Broadway Revival cuts Growltiger, I’ll focus more on the other two, but the new version of The Pekes and the Pollicles borrows from Growltiger, so the stuff that was borrowed will also have to be discussed. But, before we get into all that messy business, let’s take a look at Bustopher Jones:

Bustopher Jones:

Most of the comedy in Bustopher Jones, though there are a few simple fat jokes in there, comes from how other characters react to Bustopher. Bustopher keeps an air of dignity about him as he formally greets everyone and discusses his clubs. He’s not the joke here. This is a song of Amusing Background Events. With the queens, you have Jenny’s crush on Bustopher and Bombalurina clearly not getting it but trying to be polite about it and not kinkshame Jenny over it. With the toms, you have the kittens getting over-excited and the older cats, desperate to impress Bustopher, rushing to stop them from making a scene, making a scene themselves in the process.

In particular, there are three characters to watch in this number who provide the best comedy: Mistoffelees, Skimbleshanks, and Munkustrap. Two out of the three of them, which two depends on the production, will go into fanboy mode, often competing for Bustopher’s attention. Broadway-based productions tend to have Misto and Skimble compete for Bustopher’s attention, while London-based productions, such as the 1998 film, tend to put more focus on Munkustrap. He barely contains his excitement and is shown to be Not So Above It All, though he’s usually more level-headed than whichever cat, Misto or Skimble, he’s being contrasted with.

Basically, the joke is that Bustopher is considered super-important, despite not having a clear place in the tribe’s hierarchy, and everyone goes nuts trying to impress him, get his attention, and make sure that everything is perfect and nothing goes wrong. This joke works best when Bustopher is actually pretty laid-back and everyone’s freaking out over nothing.

The 2016 version doesn’t get this. You do see characters scrambling around, trying to make sure everything’s perfect, and get Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer as far away from Bustopher as possible, but, at the moment when it’s the most important to get this right, it fails.

The biggest problem with the number is Bustopher’s solo. It’s performed well enough, like most of this production. That’s not the problem. There are two main problems: a staging problem and a writing problem. The staging problem is where the above explanation comes in: When Bustopher sings his solo, no one gathers near him. In other productions, a group of toms gather around Bustopher where they hang on his every word, try to get his attention, and try to look important in front of the others. There’s always one, Misto, Skimble, or, more rarely, Munkustrap, who tries to stand way too close. But, 2016 Bustopher is given plenty of room to just stand there and face the audience. No one seems to be paying that much attention to what he’s saying.

There’s also a problem with how the solo is edited and the break that follows it. The problem isn’t that Bustopher’s solo is shortened. Lots of productions do that. The problem is in what’s cut.

The full solo consists of four quatrains: sets of four lines. The second and fourth lines rhyme with each other, so each quatrain ends on a rhyme: rules and Schools, Blimp’s and shrimps, bones and Drones, Glutton and mutton.

The original Broadway run of the show, and many other productions copying it, the second and third quatrains are cut. You go from Joint Superior Schools to “If I’m seen in a hurry”. The 2016 version cuts the first and second quatrains, only including the second half of the solo. The problem with this is that it cuts the first quatrain.

Cutting directly to the third quatrain is musically awkward, because there’s no build-up to this point in the song that’s song loudly with a choir backing it up. But, when it comes to the joke that’s being told in the solo, cutting the first quatrain removes the set-up and changes what the joke is. With the first quatrain, the solo is about the various clubs Bustopher goes to. Starting at the third quatrain, the joke is mainly a list of foods that Bustopher likes, even though the clubs are mentioned.

The first quatrain is the only portion of the solo to not mention food at all. It’s all about the social etiquette of gentlemens clubs. A gentleman in the early 20th century wasn’t supposed to belong to more than one club. So, in order to go to eight or nine, as Bustopher does, one would have to make sure that the clubs didn’t meet too close together, so that someone from one club might see them at another. It’s part of his strategy in going from club to club: he imitates the etiquette of the humans on the surface, while actually breaking all the rules behind their backs.

But, the point is, Bustopher is listing the various clubs he’s managed to get food from. He’s sort of cheating them all, though I doubt they’d care that a cat was frequenting more than one club. Going to different clubs that are located far enough apart that people from club A are unlikely to walk past the meeting place of club B is quite a feat and it takes a lot of skill to pull off. Bustopher knows what clubs he can do this with and what food he can get from them. If he wants seafood, he goes to the Stage and Screen. If he wants curry, he can go to the Siamese or the Glutton. Foxes is too close to one of his other clubs for him to go there, but he can get fresh meat of the same quality at Blimp’s.

The first quatrain sets up and explains the joke. Without this set-up, the joke becomes one about gluttony, making it more of a fat joke than it is when the first quatrain is included. To make matters even worse, the 2016 choreography adds this instrumental break where the cats put together a restaurant for Bustopher and give him various foods, doubling down on the joke being purely about Bustopher’s gluttony, not how he messes with high society. It’s still a joke and people might still find it funny, but it’s not the same joke and comes very close to being “it’s funny cuz he fat”.

The entire point of the number is that Bustopher’s weight is part of why he’s celebrated. He’s fat because he’s clever, managing to trick a bunch of rich humans into giving him fancy food off of their own plates. Because he looks like he’s wearing a tuxedo and spats at all times, the gentlemen at the clubs see him as fitting in, even though he’s most likely a stray. If he had an owner who was feeding him, he wouldn’t have developed this whole routine for getting food. The people who probably wouldn’t give food to a homeless human, seeing it as “feeding strays”, will literally feed a stray just for looking like he belongs. It combines two things that cats tend to love: food and messing with stupid humans.

So, the lack of emphasis on how other characters react to Bustopher and the reason why they react that way weakens the joke. But, to give credit where credit is due, I do like how they double down on Bustopher being Tugger for older women but have Jellylorum seem to be just as into him as Jenny is.

The Pekes and the Pollicles:

Here’s where the Broadway Revival goes completely off the rails. Both The Pekes and the Pollicles and Growltiger are often cut from productions to save time. They’re both “play within a play” scenes, which can be a bit confusing in a show that rarely ever uses dialogue to introduce the numbers. The Pekes and the Pollicles in particular seems to come out of nowhere. “Yay! Old Deuteronomy is here! Now let’s make fun of dogs!”

So, the Broadway Revival, like every production, had to decide what to do with these numbers. Would it keep them? Cut one of them? Cut both of them? But, for some reason, they invented a new option: Combine the two.

2016 Pekes and Pollicles isn’t The Pekes and the Pollicles. It’s a combination of The Pekes and the Pollicles and Growltiger’s Last Stand. The song is moved to where Growltiger is normally done and parts of the melody are mixed in. The Rumpus Cat, as a character, is equated to Growltiger as a character Gus played back in the day. This is where the trouble starts.

Now, I’ll once again stop to give credit where credit is due: The 2016 opening to The Pekes and the Pollicles is really sweet, with Old Deuteronomy encouraging Gus to play the Rumpus Cat one more time. Growltiger is basically a dream sequence of Gus flashing back to when he played Growltiger. Getting to see him actually relive his glory days one last time is nice. If they used this opening for Growltiger instead of The Pekes and the Pollicles, it would’ve been a good addition to the number.

So, Growltiger and The Pekes and the Pollicles are both plays within a play. Why not combine them? Well, the main problem is that The Rumpus Cat is not Growltiger.

Now, a lot of people hate Growltiger’s Last Stand and I’m not going to act like it’s some kind of masterpiece. I personally find the number to be sort of middle-of-the-road. If you see it more than once, the shock value of the cringey Asian stereotypes starts to wear off and, with a few exceptions, the number feels kind of dull. Andrew Lloyd Webber himself said that he was never really pleased with how Growltiger turned out and the London Revival rewrite might be worse than the original, at least musically. But, I’ve seen a few productions of Growltiger that I thought were kind of funny, usually by taking the racial stuff and sort of saying, “We know it’s bad and we can’t make it better, so we’ll just make it worse” and playing it up to the point of absurdity, like a parody of the sort of Yellow Peril stereotypes the song includes. I’ll also give credit to the Tecklenburg non-replica keeping the Siamese in silhouette behind a sheet.

When I say “The Rumpus Cat is not Growltiger”, I mean that how the two characters work comedically is completely different. You can’t just swap one for the other without rewriting the comedy of the entire number to match.

You’ll notice that Growltiger is in the title of Growltiger’s Last Stand. The song centers around Growltiger as the main character. The Pekes and the Pollicles includes the Rumpus Cat in the full title, but said title is so long that you rarely ever hear the song called that. The Rumpus Cat plays a key role in the story, but he shows up later on. The song isn’t about him. He’s not onstage for most of it.

This means that the comedy surrounding Growltiger and the comedy surrounding the Rumpus Cat work completely differently. The comedy of Growltiger is the comedy of Growltiger’s Last Stand. It all revolves around him. This is a joke based on a wacky character. The joke in The Pekes and the Pollicles isn’t about a single wacky character. It’s about a play where everything that could go wrong does with Munkustrap acting as the straight man. He’s the only one taking this seriously, perhaps a bit too seriously. The Rumpus Cat is just another thing that goes wrong. He’s funny, but so is everyone else who calls attention to themselves throughout the number.

Putting Gus as the Rumpus Cat into the Pekes and Pollicles is performing the number but with the joke from Growltiger. The Rumpus Cat enters the story too late for this to work, so Gus spends most of the number onstage, sharing the narrator role with Munkustrap. Furthermore, in order to include Rumpus Catified versions of Growltiger’s jokes, pretty much every memorable joke from The Pekes and the Pollicles is cut. Nothing goes wrong with the rest of the cast. The first Peke and Pollicle say their lines correctly. The March of the Pollicles and the Scottish Pollicles are cut, removing all the gags there, including Tugger playing the bagpipes at such a fitting moment that only Munkustrap is upset at first.

The fact that nobody messes up is especially weird in this version, because it’s spontaneous. Old Deuteronomy decides that Gus should get to play the Rumpus Cat again and everyone just automatically knows their role in the play. The Pekes and the Pollicles is a show Munkustrap put together for Old Deuteronomy. He had everything planned out. There were rehearsals. But, nobody showed up to rehearsals and nothing goes according to plan. If the play were spontaneous and everyone messed up, it wouldn’t be as funny, because that’s what you’d expect. Nobody had time to learn what to do, so they don’t do it right.

Instead of having the comedy come from the cast of the play messing up, the comedy is about how over-the-top Gus is. He’s narrating now, so why is Munkustrap even there? He does sort of play the straight man to Gus’ antics, but, because Munkustrap isn’t in charge here, he can’t show as much frustration. He can only awkwardly question things and be ignored. The worst case of this is with the “heathen Chinese” line. Most modern productions replace “heathen” with a less offensive word. It almost always feels a bit forced, but it works well enough. Some productions just leave the line as is, which makes it seem like they don’t care, but it doesn’t make the problem any worse. 2016 instead decides to call attention to how bad the line is by having Munkustrap question it, with the line being the older Gus’ fault. Not only does this make Gus less likable, it doesn’t actually solve the problem. The song can’t stop to acknowledge it, so, even though Munkustrap questions it, he still says the line anyway, making the whole thing a waste of time. They should’ve either changed the line or left it alone. But, they basically tried to have it both ways.

Trying to have it both ways is the fatal flaw of the number. They could’ve cut Growltiger like the 1998 film did. If you hadn’t seen any production of the show before seeing the 1998 film, you’d never guess that there was supposed to be a song between Gus and Skimbleshanks. It can be easily edited out. They also could’ve kept Growltiger and used redesigned, less stereotypical costumes for the Siamese, like the Vienna Revival did. It wouldn’t solve everything, but an effort would’ve been made. But, by combining Growltiger with another number, they both did and didn’t cut the number. Instead, the messed with and weakened The Pekes and the Pollicles so they could reference Growltiger without actually performing it.

The places were Growltiger’s melody is used for lines in The Pekes and the Pollicles feel forced, because those words weren’t written for that tune. That basically sums up the whole problem. One song was combined with another in a way that felt forced and awkward, because the elements of the two numbers weren’t meant to go together.

In conclusion, I think the Broadway Revival’s comedic downfall came from a sort of indecisiveness. They wanted to keep things the same but also change them, possibly not even knowing what they wanted to change them into, only that they wanted to change them. They wanted to shorten Bustopher’s solo, but not the way it’d been done before. They wanted to cut Growltiger, but not in the way it’d been done before. They wanted to do Cats, but not in the way it’d been done before.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to try new things. This could’ve been the template for an interesting non-replica if they really committed to doing things in a different way. But, they got stuck in between, wanting to be different, but not wanting to be too different. So, they tried to fix what wasn’t broken and sell it as New and Improved. This paved the way for the 2019 film to do the same, but with even worse comedy and without the advantage of the numbers being performed well by a devoted cast who knew what they were doing.

TLDR: 2016 messes with comedic numbers in ways that weaken them. It makes Bustopher Jones more completely about gluttony and tries to combine The Pekes and the Pollicles with Growltiger, failing both.

#bustopher jones #gus the theatre cat #the pekes and the pollicles #growltiger #cats 2016 #taking comedy too seriously tbh #do the thing or don't #you can't have it both ways

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kitkatopinions · 3 years

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honestly after how incredibly convoluted and not-powerful the two RELICS OF THE GODS we've seen are, i kinda can't wait to see what dumb and arbitrary restriction they put on the sword of destruction. maybe it can only destroy one thing at a time, and if you destroy something else the other thing comes back. maybe it can only destroy 3 things every 100 years (seriously, why not just have 1 question per ten years, with it having been 'emptied' twenty years ago). maybe it can only destroy things the wielder actually cares about.

Tbh, I love restrictions on these magical, already OP items. It would be incredibly uninteresting and make for a very short show if Ruby had gotten hold of the scepter of creation and Ambrosius had been like "Hey there, I can make anything, no rules, no conditions," and she was like "Okay, can I have a magical vortex that hurts no one and sucks only Salem and the Grimm into it and then flies off into space?" or "Okay, can I have a big metal box built around Salem that's impenetrable and has no doors or windows so she can never get out and it actually mutes her magic?" or "Okay I'd like a wand that shrinks people so I can turn Cinder and Salem both into Polly Pocket sized nuisances instead of real threats and then can you make little Polly Pocket sized houses except you can't actually get out of them and have food and water and other resources suddenly appear in there to make sure it's all humane?" Or "Okay, I'd like a working CCT tower, and a transporter system that gets everyone from Mantle onto Atlas ASAP, and also we need a new body for Penny without the virus, and also an unbreakable, indestructible, magic resistant box built around the Relic of Knowledge so Salem can never complete her goal of uniting the Relics, and also if you could make like, five Atlas's, actually, to increase housing availability, and Yang and Blake want shoes that let them fly because between me, Weiss, Qrow and Penny all being able to kind of fly, they're starting to feel left out. Also, idk where my Uncle went or where my supposed mentor and Penny's dad are, so can I get like, some kind of tracker that helps find people that I feel connected to in some way?"

And Ambrosius was just like "... Yup!"

These things need restrictions so they don't make the protagonists or the antagonists too powerful or make their victories more easy. I like the 'only three questions' rule and honestly, I'd have loved more restrictions. For instance instead of telling Team RWBY tons of things that had nothing to do with what Ozpin was hiding (some of the stuff we saw, he might not have ever known about himself,) we could've had Jinn specifically only show them the bare minimum of what Oz was actually purposefully hiding.

My number one complaint with Ambrosius is that they firmly establish rules that restrict what he can and can't do, and then they have him break them... To avoid breaking them. What's weird and convoluted in my opinion is establishing a simple rule like 'once he creates something, the previous thing he creates vanishes,' and then having him immediately make something that doesn't vanish when he makes something new. And I know Penny needed a vessel other than her robotic body because Ambrosius can't kill and their use of the wording 'her exact robot parts' is clever enough, but making her a new body then defies the very rules he can't break and it wasn't his only option! (And no, I don't wanna hear 'her soul made the body on its own' because WHAT WHAT WHAT HOW WHY NO, THAT'S FLIPPING NUTS AND TOO MUCH AND I REJECT THAT.)

Okay, I'm back, sorry. XD The thing is... I like rules and restrictions in my media, especially magic systems and magical worlds. I think it makes the worlds feel realer and the magic more compelling and interesting. I don't want to watch a show where people can just blink their problems away or can wave a wand and fix a lot of what the characters have to deal with. I love it when people can only use their magic tool at a cost, or have to restrain themselves because they only get so many uses or know using their magic is going to exhaust them, or in getting a magical item, they find out they can't get what they want or they have to find a loophole to get what they want. It's so interesting and compelling to me!

RWBY has some of this, but honestly, they don't use restrictions enough for me. This is mostly personal preference based, I think. Big stakes with big showy 'which one is going to be more endlessly powerful' weapons and magical powers that can change humanity and end conflicts in a single moment might be really epic and cool to other people. I prefer 'I need to find out how to make this niche power that I can only use sometimes work for me in these specific conflicts.'

It's honestly really funny that I kinda liked your last suggestion for the Relic of Destruction. I also really like 'this is entirely unstable' for that Relic, that it can only be used by people with great concentration and takes a lot of effort to wield because you're in danger of destroying everything around you with it if you aren't exceedingly careful. And I'm just gonna say it, I'd love it if the only person among their group who can manage it is Qrow! Idk, I just... Love that concept.

#rwde #not really but I always tag it because... Yeah

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siswritesyanderes · 3 years

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about Rule One, do youuuuu perhaps have any thoughts on how close everyone in the cullen family would be with sadie once she joins them? and also what activities they'd like to do most with her?? ^_^

Most obviously, Alice and Jasper would be ecstatic to have her around, and they would have to get comfortable with sharing her with the rest of the family; knowing that Sadie is talking to someone else in another room would take some getting used to, and they'd both have to overcome their clinginess.

Nessie already adores her, and that would only continue once she finishes Lord of the Rings and continues looking to Sadie for fantasy/sci-fi recommendations. Sadie would become her window into both the highly-respected works, like those of Isaac Asimov and Ursula K Le Guin and Octavia Butler, and the less respected. (Not listing those, because it feels mean.) Sadie would casually mention Doctor Who and Nessie would just have to watch it, and Nessie quickly becomes a huge fan. (Basically, Nessie inherited her mother's nerdiness but not her genre preference.)

Just as a symptom of existing in the same house as Nessie and Sadie, the rest of the family gets into various shows, movies, and books to various degrees. Edward secretly reads everything Nessie is about to read, just to make sure there's nothing inappropriate in any of it, and gets surprisingly into the Tolkienverse and the Legacy of Orïsha series. Emmett watches Doctor Who with Sadie and Nessie and starts referencing it kind of a lot. Jacob already likes Star Wars and both Avatars; Rosalie finds that she likes Star Trek. (Rosalie knows at least a little about all of it, though, because Nessie will ask for hair styles she's seen in various shows and movies or imagined from book descriptions, so she'll show them to Rosalie with her power.) Jasper enjoys the works of Octavia Butler, and he and Sadie have a few sober conversations about Kindred. Bella remains staunchly loyal to the classics, but she does find she enjoys the Inkheart series, when Nessie asks her to read them to her at bedtime. This all culminates in the Cullens going to various fan conventions ("for Nessie"), some of them in costume. (One time, Sadie dressed as Uhura and Rosalie dressed as Seven of Nine. Nessie dressed as Elva, from Eragon, as she preferred to dress for high fantasy settings. Another time, Rosalie and Emmett were Thirteen and "Sexy Eleventh Doctor". Alice insists that they can't repeat costumes, so things grow progressively more imaginative and Esme for sure dresses as the TARDIS at some point.)

Like I mentioned in the other posts, various family members would designate Sadie as their conflict moderator, so Edward and Rosalie might run up to her, both ranting at the same time about something the other did, and she would, slightly amused, unwind their conflict and analyze why they're feeling the way they are and get a sense of what behaviors could be changed. At a point, she'd have done this so often that she would designate specific "office hours", outside of which they can't bombard her with their disagreement unless it's an emergency. (Jasper does something to annoy Emmett, and Emmett goes, "I'm gonna tell Sadie!" and Jasper smirks like, "It's 8:31.") There is honestly still a fair amount of "Sadie, I know it's outside of your office hours, but...", and a lot of times she'll still listen and offer advice, but sometimes she'll say, "Not right now. I want to finish what I'm doing. Come back a bit later."

Sadie's well-maintained moral code tends to keep her out of trouble, but her curiosity and Emmett's eagerness to just Do Stuff means they can really just go nuts, if left alone together. Sadie might wonder, "Can vampires do this?" or "What happens if a vampire does this?" and Emmett will go from zero to "Let's find out" in a millisecond. (He does not follow the scientific method, so Sadie has separate journals labeled "Shenanigans" to account for their time together.)

Carlisle and Esme immediately and not entirely consciously dub Sadie the good one, often telling the other kids to follow her example. If she does get into mischief with her new siblings, Carlisle and Esme have been known to completely ignore her role in the mischief and only chastise the others. Sadie might say something like, "It wasn't just Emmett; I was involved, too," but at that point Carlisle or Esme would point out that Sadie is taking responsibility for her actions and the other should learn to do that, as well. No one holds it against Sadie; it becomes both a joke and a known fact that she gets away with pretty much everything just by virtue of being a super decent person.

Bella and Sadie are pretty much comfortable with just existing parallel to each other; they might read different books in the same room in silence and consider it quality time. Or they might talk about their human lives and shared experiences from having grown up at around the same time. Sadie finds Bella fascinating and enjoys studying her seemingly-contradictory personality traits. Everyone is contradictory to some degree, but Bella seems especially hard to figure out.

This is getting long, so I'm going to stop here, lol. Hopefully more of the relationship dynamics between Sadie and the Cullens will be clear in Rule One, but if not, you can always send another ask! 😁

#rule one sadie #sadie lily gilder #rule one don't be afraid #twilight fanfiction

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sweetiepie08 · 3 years

Text

Rebel Z (Chapter 10 Final)

nvader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list please let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

Thank you for reading! I do plan to continue the story in a sequel fic, but I may take a short hiatus first. I hope you enjoyed this!

Be on the lookout for the next book in the series, RevolutionZ! In which Zim and Tak attempt to join the Resisty and gain new companions! Dib fills his gap year by joining an alien rebellion! Gaz gets dragged in too! And what happened to Zim in Death Melee is explained!

However, I will most likely only be posting links to Ao3 than full chapters to Tumblr. Again, Thank you everyone for reading!

[-]

“So, what exactly the fuck was all that stuff with the punch about?” Dib asked once they were a comfortable distance away form the Massive.

Zim glared straight ahead at the stars. “It’s nothing that concerns you, human.”

“Bullshit!” Dib slammed his hand down on the control panel. “Your little stunt could have gotten us killed. Out with it!”

Zim gritted his teeth and gripped the steering mechanism until his knuckles quaked. Dib braced himself for the inevitable screaming denial. Instead, Zim let out a pained sigh. “Fine, if you must know, I figured out three Urth years ago that my mission was a sham and my leaders were trying to have me killed, so I took revenge. Happy?”

“We know all that,” Tak snapped. “And anyway, I told you your mission was a lie a long time ago. What I want to know is how you managed to betray the Tallest without your treasonous thoughts setting of your life clock.”

“Yeah, and who’s Spek?” Dib added.

“You wish to hear Zim’s tale of woe?” He clenched his fist and heaved out another sigh. “Fine. Three Urth years ago, the Tallest contacted me, telling me they selected me to participate in Death Melee, an inter-galactic event that all would be watching.”

“The one where they throw criminals on a planet together to fight to the death?” Tak deadpanned. “That was your first clue?”

“They told me the rules had changed and it was now a contest of elite warriors. For my partner, they gave me a Spek, a smeet just shy of his cadet years. He hadn’t even seen his first cycle yet…” Zim’s fists shook as he cut himself off.

“Since you’re still alive, I’m assuming you won,” Dib said.

“Yes, but…” his gaze fell to the floor. “Yes. Anyway, throughout the Melee, it became clear to me that the Tallest lied. This was still a game for criminals, but Spek…” Zim narrowed his haunted eyes, “he was only there to lessen my chances.”

Dib watched, mesmerized. He thought he’d seen the many moods of Zim. He’d seen everything from proud boasting, to spiteful rage, to pathetic schmooping. But this, this was something else entirely, something he never expected to see from the alien. True remorse.

“On my journey back to Urth,” he continued, “I had too much time to think and when made it back to m base, I was done with all of it.” Rage grew in his voice with every word. “I knew they lied. I knew they’d been lying. For a moment, I thought, if they didn’t want my genius, maybe someone else would. And that thought was enough to set off my life clock. Instead of simply ripping out my feedback chip, I infected it with a virus that sends the Control Brains a loop of my Urth memories, preventing it from receiving new thoughts and experiences.” A bitter, satisfied smile came to his face. “As far as I can tell, it hadn’t noticed anything was off until now.”

“And the machines I saw you building?” Dib pressed.

Zim drew himself up. “I have a contract with the Resisity. I build them machines, they appreciate my genius and send me monies.”

“And that’s what you’ve been doing for three years?” Dib asked, voice sripping with skepticism.

Zim nodded and said nothing more.

Dib stared at him, trying to get a read on this whole tale. He wasn’t sure what to believe. Zim’s reason for existence seamed to be pleasing his Tallest. The little green monster talked of nothing else since arriving on Urth. He couldn’t imagine Zim wanting anything else and he’d fallen for the schmoopy act before. But this was not schmoop. It was too subtle, too quiet. And that betrayal of his Tallest couldn’t be denied. Something had truly changed.

Dib looked to Tak to gauge her opinion, but her face revealed nothing except careful calculation.

“I’d heard the Resisty had been growing and gaining power,” she mused. “New technology granted them upsetting victories and made them more of a problem than they once were. They could be the key. We need to fight if we ever want a chance of defeating the Control Brains and freeing our people, and for that, we’ll need an army. With your connection and my information, we could pose a real threat to the Empire.”

Dib expected Zim to launch into another tirade about how he wasn’t in it for the politics. That this was all a personal mission and he had no interest in going rogue. That did not happen.

Instead, Zim said nothing for a long time. He simply stared through the windshield in tense silence. But then, a grin grew slowly on his face. “I’m in.”

[-]

When they made it back to Earth, they found that Gaz made use of MiMi and Mini Mouse as gaming companions, Dad bought her excuse that Dib was hanging out at Zim’s house, and that he hadn’t even stopped home long enough to notice the two additional robots in the living room.

Dib went straight to his room and laid out all of his recording devices. He had the notes he took the night Zim and Tak rambled drunkenly on the couch. He had the audio recording of the old man Irken that he couldn’t wait to translate. And he had the spy camera he’d been wearing to capture the whole experience. He never got so much undeniable proof on one mission before, and no one, to his knowledge, had this much evidence of this quality ever. He’d be king of the Swollen Eyeball network if he showed even a fraction of…

His eyes drifted to the Swollen Eyeball emblem pinned to his bulletin board and he let out a sigh. The Swollen Eyeball… what a joke. They’d been reduced to a bunch of anti-science conspiracy nuts. The organization became a competition to see who could shout their wildest theory the loudest. What were they compared to a real evil alien empire, a real soul-sucking, Lovecraftian horror, and a real space alien rebellion?

No. This was bigger than some crack-pot conspiracy group. This rebellion universe-shattering consequences. And he was going to be part of it.

[-]

Out in his ship, Zim stared at his PAK connector with warry eyes. He wasn’t sure what held him back now. His stunt on the Massive already solidified his traitor status, but this felt different, more official. It was one thing to enact vengeance on those who betrayed him. It was quite another to completely detach himself from society.

He’d been unwaveringly loyal to the Empire since his conception, but they didn’t want him. He’d seen that years ago. So what was he waiting for?

He disconnected the PAK from his back and ignored the lifeclock in the corner of his eye as he plugged it in. He opened the hatch, clicked a pair of tweezers in his fingers, then reached them toward his feedback chip.

At a light tug, his computer’s voice gave an automated warning.

You are attempting to remove the feedback chip. Doing so is an act of treason against the Irken Empire. Are you sure you want to proceed?

Zim closed his eyes and pulled the chip free.

[-]

Tak’s footsteps echoed as she walked across the concrete garage floor. MiMi’s metallic feet clacked beside her. Apart from that, the room was silent. She was used to silence. One grows accustomed to it when traveling alone through space. But these last few days had been anything but. And with Zim as her dubious ally, silent moments like this were certain to be few and far between.

And yet, this moment, she felt the need to fill it with something.

She popped open the windshield of her ship and hopped inside. “MiMi, my disc please.” Mimi reached into her head and took out the Urth data storage disc. Zim wasn’t the only one with a secret stash.

Tak took the disc from Mimi and placed it in a tray on the ship’s control panel. “Ship, track six please.” As she hopped out, music began to play. Smooth, jazzy horns filled the air and the singer began crooning.

Maybe this time, I’ll be lucky. Maybe this time he’ll stay…

The song was from an Urth performance art piece. The vocalist sang about some male mate. That part didn’t interest Tak in the slightest. Still, there was something about it...

Not a loser anymore, like the last time and the time before…

The song continued to play as Tak opened the engine access panel and began her work. While manipulating the many gears and wires, she found a few interesting repair methods that the human implemented over the years. Many employed the use of an Urth bonding strip called “duct tape”, which she had to admit came in handy. The human didn’t do a bad job, even if it was pretty slap-dash.

All the odds are in my favor, something’s bound to begin…

She finally untangled a mess of wires and reconnected them.

It’s gotta happen, happen sometime…

She fused together the final wire and the ship hummed to life. Fuel Regulation Systems online.

Tak smiled, “Okay Mimi, looks like we’re finally getting somewhere.” She ducked back into the access panel as the song his its crescendo.

Maybe this time I’ll win.

#invader zim fanfiction #invader zim #iz fanfiction #iz fanfic #zim #dib #tak #gaz #gir #rebel zim #rebel leader tak #zadf #sweetiepie08 #sweetiepie fanfic #sweetiepie writes #invader zim fandom

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