A surprisingly helpful bit of social maneuvering I've figured out from trial and error:
Throughout your life, you are going to need things from people. Often, it's going to be on a deadline. And when that deadline passes, you generally want to know what's going on. So, you need to ask them.
There are two kinds of people, broadly, in this situation. The Shameless will tell you what the holdup is, with absolutely no regard for if the reason is "good enough". This is actually very helpful, because you get the real reason immediately, and can start working on a solution.
The Ashamed is trickier. People who are Ashamed are people who were often told they were giving excuses when they were trying to explain, and they'll often avoid you until they solve the problem on their own. This causes them and you a lot of stress, and often takes a lot longer to solve.
Long term, the strategy for dealing with people who are Ashamed is to provide a supportive environment where they're comfortable sharing any problems they're having with getting things done. But, there's a way to at least partially short-circuit that:
Provide an explanation for them.
One example might be "Hey Susan, I noticed that I don't have your report yet. Are you busy with other projects?" The readymade explanation signals that you're willing to accept an explanation, which is the big anxiety point.
Sometimes, you still won't get an honest answer- especially if the honest answer isn't "good enough" by the standards of the person who traumatized them. But, I've found that it often at least gets you a lie that lets you give them some slack or work around the problem.
Let's say that Susan has actually completely forgotten that she needed to do the report. She's horrified at herself, and completely unwilling to admit the real problem. But, she can now safely reply with "Sorry Jennifer, I've been swamped, and it got lost in the mix. I can have it to you in two days. Does that work?"
From there, so long as Susan gave an estimate for when she can actually do it, she and Jennifer can hash out a solution.
It's not a perfect solution, but it works astonishingly well for how small of a change it is.
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Things I'm noticing on rewatch
Aziraphale knows how reproduction works (and realizes you need a pair) because (unlike Crowley, rip unicorns) he saw the human design plans, if maybe didn't directly work on them. Presumably there are other angels who know, it's a good thing that none of them were tagging along for the whole Job bit. Or maybe they just didn't want to contradict Gabriel.
The "this way up" sign on the box is so cheeky. Aziraphale and Crowley could've solved the whole mystery if they'd just ignored the rules and upended the system box, but there's still part of them (esp. Aziraphale) still instinctively following the rules.
Literally the first thing they say to each other in the present sets up their entire season conflict of not communicating properly, while being hidden in a joke. *groans loudly*
okay wait did we figure out what the deal was with this getting so specifically highlighted?? I've tried looking up the passage and I am.. still pretty baffled. Other than the obvious connection to Crowley being about to explode in a few minutes.
Edit: There's a theory I like quite a lot here, though still open to other interpretations if you've got em!
Crowley opening the door for Aziraphale and Nina staring in fascination is SO funny. She's just dying to know what tf is going on there.
Originally overlooked this bc it's not his usual coy heart eyes, but this is an Ask from Aziraphale. Aziraphale glances to Jim and back like, Well I'm not doing that.... and Crowley gets the message that this is (at least partially) why he's here, to be the demon and not the nice one.
Really can't get over the walls matching Crowley's eyes. You can't leave this bookshop indeed.
Despite the fact that Crowley is storming out of here so angry that he will literally explode in about 60 seconds, he does not slam the door. It's not the bookshop's fault / he really is trying to control his temper / he doesn't want to leave things on that final of a note / choose your interpretation.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓
pairing: gojo x f!reader
summary: inspired by this post by @gojoest and tags/addition by @kagelun. i have nothing to say for myself (sorry)
wc: 1.2k
cw: fluff, gojo being gojo & divider credits to @saradika!
a/n: wrote the outline for this fic in my 20mins break at work and finished it mostly on bus rides to and from work. felt like i needed that to be mentioned somewhere
"I hate when you do that," Gojo whined from his place on the bed, lying with his limbs spread out. He had a habit of making the queen sized bed look like a single whenever he was even partially horizontal on it.
"Do what?" you ask absentmindedly, in the middle of putting your clothes back on.
"That."
"Toru we've been over this, I'm not moving in with you. Living with you would drive me actually insane."
You're facing away but you can feel his pout deepen. You hear the tell tale sounds of the bed squeaking and you know the menace you call your boyfriend, is making his way over to you with an impassioned defense. He might as well have flashcards with him and sometimes you wonder how if he wasn't a man-child with such ridiculous hills to die on, or the strongest sorcerer in this world, in an alternate universe he would've made a decent lawyer.
"That's not what I was talking about but now that you've brought it up, I can think of at least 5 reasons why-"
"Gojo," you turn to face him with a pointed stare. He withers under your gaze and your use of his formal name and you go back trying to get the clasps of your bra to get to stick to the intended hooks, instead of the one above or the one below. After a few moments of fiddling, you give up fighting a losing battle.
"Can you do my clasps?"
You look over your shoulder at Gojo, glance at your hands and look back at him expectantly. He shifts to stand behind you, fingers gentle and unsure as you feel them on your back. You let go of the straps in your hand and wait patiently.
"This is what I meant, you know."
You tilt your head to the side a little and because over months Gojo has learned to read your little gestures like a book, he knows that despite your silence that's a sign for him to continue. Not that he ever needed one anyway.
"Why do you need to wear when you have all the support you need right here?"
Gojo cups your breasts with his large hands. You lightly smack his hands with yours but all that makes him do is give them a little squeeze.
"Look at how much better I am at this! I can hold them exactly the way you want them to!"
Like a child at a science fair demonstrating his beloved project, Gojo proceeds to squeeze your breasts closer together along with his words. You let out a sigh and a little shake of your head, and you decide to humour him to try and beat him at his game.
"...plus my hands are so much warmer! And they're definitely more comfortable than some of these godawful ones."
He glares dirtily at your open lingerie drawer.
"That's not what you called them when I wore them for you last Friday."
"You're not playing fair," he mumbles into your neck.
You give it some time, basking momentarily in the warmth of Gojo's body so close to yours, before you place your hands over the ones covering your breasts and kiss his fingertips.
"Toru, I'm going to miss my bus, will you please do my clasps?"
"Hai," he says in a drained monotone like a school child being asked to do something dreadfully boring.
Satoru keeps his word this time and you hear the little click of the hooks attaching in place. Tugging your bra to make yourself comfortable, you turn around in his arms to place a sweet kiss on Gojo's lips, "Thank you baby."
Leaving him standing, you walk over to pick up your jumper and you quickly slip into it. While pulling up your jeans you noticed Gojo's attention had shifted and he was now inspecting the contents of your drawer. Picking up the straps of cloth and lace and trying to figure them out with the face of someone trying to solve a nuclear equation with utmost concentration.
You don't have to wait for long to know what he's thinking, you hardly do. Gojo never shies away from voicing his opinions. All of them, no matter how inane or inappropriate.
"You know, I think I'd be better at designing these."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! I mean you keep saying the wire hurts and…" you hear bits and pieces of what he says , his voice full of robust conviction while you finish getting ready. In the meantime, Gojo appears to have taken a serious interest in the construction of female lingerie. You didn't have the heart to explain the intricacies of women's fashion and how since ages, pain and discomfort was woven into the very fabric and principle. Not right now anyway, while you were already running late for a bus with a temperamental schedule and a history of not following it. You looked into the mirror for a last quick check to make sure everything was in place and you walked over to your boyfriend, still somewhat lost in thought. You took his face between your hands, squished him gently and kissed him after letting go.
"Bye baby, love you!"
As always Gojo's lips stay on yours for a little longer, even after you pull away. Ending kisses is not something Gojo excels at, especially not when they're with you. He pulls away reluctantly and with that, you're gone. The door behind you shuts with a little click and Gojo's left to his own devices for the day.
Later that night you're cuddled in bed with him, his limbs wrapped around you like a blanket, the only way he knows how. Gojo's voice pipes up in the dark, "You know, I think I've figured out how to make it work."
"Hm?"
"How to make the bras work without hurting. I even came up with designs, I think you'd like them."
There's silence, but he knows you're awake and you're listening. He knows the rhythm of the way your chest rises and falls when you're asleep in his arms.
"I even came up with the name of the company."
You shuffle a little in his hold to turn to face him. Even when lying down, his face is a whole head above yours.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"Gojo's secret."
It takes a while for it to sink in and then your laughter rings out in the dead of the night. A genuine, hearty outburst at his very earnest response. It gets you an offended, "Hey! It's a good name! I mean I might run into copyright issues but I…" and Gojo pulls you closer to him in efforts to get you to listen to him seriously but you don't hear the rest of it very clearly over the sound of your own laugh. With every next word that comes out of his mouth you collapse into a fresh fit of giggles and Gojo complains that you're not listening to his flawless 7-step-plan to take over the whole industry that he spent all day thinking up. Pouty that you're not taking him seriously, despite the fact that you almost never do, Gojo untangles you (gently) from his grasp and turns around to face the other way.
" 'm not talking to you."
You're used to his antics by now so you turn to spoon him, throwing your leg over his with abandon and slipping your hand over his chest. You hear a little "hmph" uttered under his breath without any real malice but all it does is make you squeeze him a little tighter (lovingly).
"Goodnight Toru, love you."
You press a kiss to his shoulder and shuffle in closer to him to make yourself comfortable to go to sleep. The next morning when you wake up, and you wake up earlier than Gojo does, you realize the two of you are in exactly the opposite position from when you went to bed. You're curled up against Gojo, back to his chest, and one of his hands has somehow made its way through the night to loosely cup your left breast in his large hand.
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