#aquarium date

[tenyai]

(Part 1? lol)This got more ridiculous than I intended but here we are, a little rujinu aquarium date shenanigan inspired by @galaxyspeaking ‘s great aquarium date concept! I have a part 2 sketched out that’s more romantic and sappy but we’ll see if and when I get to it 🐠

[cattb0xx]

aquarium date 📻📺🦈

(aka Vincent pointing at every single shark in the aquarium and tells Alastor every single thing abt them while Alastor just smiles and nods)

[len-tilek]

aquarium date (part 2)

part 1 here

[nanahidesingroves]

going on a cute aquarium date with gojo satoru!

(pairings: gojo satoru x reader - 1.1k words)

the variety of fish takes your breath away.

conversely, it was a shame that nothing on earth could take his breath away. nothing but you…and perhaps the mantaray leisurely gliding by above your heads, separated by inches of thick, indestructuble glass that withstood overwhelming volumes of water with ease.

your awe at the infrastructure is interrupted by the idiot beside you.

"satoru-!" you hiss, gripping a thick bicep and tugging his arm back with an incredulous, soft laugh, "stop pressing your forehead against the glass! what are you, five?"

the minute he turns his head, your eyes soften.

satoru has always been gorgeous, you're well aware of that, and you know he always will be. but it doesn't shock you any less when he turns, and you're met with those pale blue eyes, that strong jaw, that delicate, rounded point of his nose that has so often nuzzled deep into the crook of your neck, for no other reason than to breathe you in.

his blindfold is off - a rare occurence considering how sensitive those eyes of his are. always looking, searching for something most people couldn't put a name to.

snow-white lashes flutter at the sight of you, soaking your visage in with a tender smile.

and then, it's gone - replaced with a mischievous pout and a huff, "you're acting like you work here."

"and you're acting like a child." you retort, folding your arms over your chest, giving him that unimpressed expression he so deeply adores - satoru straightens to his full height, towering over you with an ego big enough to drown several of the fish swimming just a few feet away.

he leans his face down to make it level with yours, features resting into something so dangerously loving that for a moment you swear he's about to kiss you senseless - right in front of a crowd of gawking tourists.

instead, his upper lip curls into a smug grin, and you're reminded of exactly why utahime constantly wants to wring his neck.

"no need to be jealous of the fish, angel." he purrs, and you scoff, unable to prevent the reckless chuckle that bubbles out from your mouth.

"you were pressing your face against the glass, satoru." his grin widens further as your pointer finger presses into his pinkish forehead to emphasis your point, "you literally have a red patch from the pressure."

satoru shrugs, tilting his head vaguely, like a cat listening to someone talk, "what? i can't be curious?"

you scoff, and he laughs as he wraps an arm around your shoulders- a loud, deep, chirpy laugh that has you melting into him, your own arm slipping around his waist, hand burrowing into his nearest jacket pocket to keep him tight by your side.

"within reason." you continue, though now you're both entranced by the rich blue of the water, too hypnotised by the warmth of your bodies pressing side by side to bother with pursuing your teasing.

"within reason." he echoes, thumb brushing over your shoulder. "nothing i do, nothing i'm capable of, is within reason."

his eyes track a school of fish, expression faintly morose, admiring the silver of their scales, glittering like tiny, flexible daggers as they shoot across the water, movements too quick for the eye to follow. the aquarium had been his idea, a place of peace, where normal people without the crippling weight of the world went for fun.

and, more importantly, a place he knew you'd enjoy.

his eyes are no longer on the fish.

satoru barely has to turn his head to look at you, and he doesn't have to be subtle, but he tries to be. you look stunning, here, stood beside him, the lighting an ocean blue. satoru thinks you wear the colour well, which means you wear him well - every shade of blue is his colour, after all.

"stop staring." you mutter without glancing his way, and it's as though the movement of your lips as you speak is a direct tug at his soul, pulling him closer to you.

he's sure you can feel it, too. that little tug that has his lips just aching to connect with your mouth. oh, but you're a stubborn, pretty, little thing, too intent to watch the whale shark float by. why does the shark get all the attention? he's more attractive.

"'m not staring." satoru leans closer, and he uses a hand to turn your head, coaxing your gaze from the fish to him. your eyes are so gentle it leaves him breathless. you raise an eyebrow, and there's that look again: eyes narrowed, more or less amused, lips curved so minutely it would barely have counted as a whisper of a smirk.

you tilt your head, and it's like you've spontaneously grown a spiritual hand and reached deep inside of his chest, wrapping those phantom fingers around his heart and making it flutter, gently squeezing some words out of him.

"i'm…jealous of the fish." he confesses, and you laugh - god, he'd admit to every embarrassing thing he'd done since birth if you'd grant him a chance to hear that sound again.

"well," you hum, "there's no need to be. none are as handsome as you, anyway."

and those are the words he wants to hear, because suddenly satoru's sweet tooth is irritating him to the point of pain, and he's smothering his mouth over yours to satiate it - there's nothing sweeter than your lips, after all.

the world melts away, until it's just him and you, the buzz of his six-eyes, a constant, droning, exhausting power, dulls into the background. when you cheekily nibble on his lower lip, it's like his soul's redeemed, fresh and reborn.

as always, you're the first to pull away for air.

satoru licks his lips, chasing after your sugary taste, pupils blown open so wide that black swallows virtually all the pale-blue of his irises.

you giggle as you wipe your thumb over his bottom lip, wiping it free of residual saliva. "that'll give the workers something to talk about." you murmur.

he catches your wrist with his free hand, leaning forward and bumping his nose against yours, barely. "i love you." he whispers, soft, terribly quiet, just a secret meant for the both of you.

"i love you, too." you whisper back, equally as secretive, "more than any sea creature, that's for sure."

satoru snorts, and the mood shifts - less of the heavy emotion, and more of the lighter stuff, the type that makes the both of you feel like you're floating on air. he steps in front of you, hand still wrapped around your wrist, and starts walking, tugging you to his side with gentle encouragement.

"come on, angel." he grins, "to the beta fish tank."

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ (a/n): hey my loves!! enjoy this little bite-sized fic at your leisure!! as always, don't forget to follow my ao3 (@nanahidesingroves) and my asks are open! love you all <3

(p.s - do you guys think i should make a masterlist? pleaseee lmk)

[belkscrotes]

Aquarium Date🐠🪼🪸

[gaycha0sgrem1in]

AQUARIUM!!!

Please interact with the og post!

Done with finals so finally post time!!! Thank yall for waiting!!! Also I really want to start doing prompts. I miss actually writing but idk what to write so give me some things yall want to see. Like scenes and stuff(not related or related to the Smau) SEND ME ASKS!!!!

Masterpost here

Tag list

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[satorvsslvt]

‹ ︎ ✦ 𓏻 Drowing (in you) ’ ◟ 🤍

synopsis. Gojo Satoru is many things — confident, annoying, the strongest sorcerer alive. But sitting on a bench outside your apartment, waiting for you to show up as you appear wearing a sundress? Suddenly he's none of those things. Just a boy with a crush who can't seem to form a complete sentence. Or: an aquarium date, a sundress, and almost everything.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!reader

content & warnings. fluff, pining, oblivious reader (not stupid i promise!!), almost-kiss cliffhanger (sorry not sorry), gojo is QUIETLY losing his mind, mutual pining, friends to lovers slowburn, train scene because i'm soft, jellyfish, one almost confession.

word count. 3.5k+ A/N. last post before i go sleep !! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

PART ONE: THE BENCH

Satoru had been sitting on the bench outside your apartment for exactly fourteen minutes.

He knew because he'd checked his phone eight times. He also knew because he'd counted the cracks in the sidewalk, watched three different dogs walk by, and mentally catalogued every single car that had passed.

He was not nervous.

He was Gojo Satoru.

He had faced down curses that would make seasoned sorcerers weep. He had stood in front of disaster with a smile on his face and laughter in his throat. He had threatened the higher-ups — yes, the higher ups — multiple times, and he had walked away without a scratch.

So why was his heart pounding?

Why were his palms sweating?

Why had he changed his shirt twice before leaving the house?

"Because it's her," a quiet voice in his head supplied. "It's always been her."

He groaned, dropping his head back against the bench. The wood was warm from the afternoon sun — or what little sun was peeking through the clouds. It was the kind of day that felt soft around the edges, the kind of day that made everything look a little hazy, a little dreamlike.

Perfect for her.

"Stop that," he told himself. "Stop being pathetic."

He checked his phone again.

She was seven minutes late.

Not that he was counting.

(The fourteenth minute, by the way. He was very much counting.)

He ran his fingers through his hair for the fifth time. Adjusted his blindfold. Tugged at the collar of his shirt. Checked his phone again.

Fourteen minutes and thirty-two seconds.

"What if she changed her mind?" he thought suddenly. "What if she didn't want to come? What if she-"

The door opened.

And everything stopped.

You stepped out into the grey afternoon light, and you were wearing that dress.

The white one. The one with the little blue flowers scattered across the fabric like someone had taken pieces of the sky and pressed them into the cotton. The one that fell just above your knees, with thin straps that left your shoulders bare and a hem that swayed when you walked. The one that had been haunting his dreams for three weeks — ever since he'd seen you wear it to that stupid summer barbecue and he'd spent the entire evening trying very hard not to stare.

(He had stared. He had stared so much. Shoko had noticed. Shoko had laughed at him. And let's just say he's still embarrassed.)

But this was worse.

Because now there was no one else around. No friends to hide behind. No excuses to look away.

Just you, in that dress, walking down the steps toward him with a smile that made his chest ache.

"Sorry, sorry!" You were fumbling with your bag, completely unaware that you were single-handedly destroying him. "I couldn't find my keys. I swear they just-" You looked up. Stopped. Tilted your head. "Satoru? You okay?"

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

"Say something," he commanded his brain. "Any word. One word. You know words. You've used them before."

"Hi," he finally managed.

"Hi?" his brain screamed. "HI!? That's what you went with?"

"Hi," you said back, a small smile playing on your lips. "You look... different."

"Different? Different how? Bad different? Good different? Is my shirt weird? I knew I should have worn the other one-"

"Different how?" he asked, proud that he'd formed a complete sentence.

You shrugged, stepping closer. "I don't know. Quieter, maybe. You're usually... you know."

"Loud?"

"I was going to say 'energetic,' but sure. Loud works."

He should say something back. Something witty. Something that would make you laugh, make you roll your eyes, make you shove his shoulder and call him annoying.

Instead, he just looked at you.

At the way the light caught your hair. At the way your dress moved when you breathed. At the way your eyes were watching him with that soft curiosity that made him feel like you were seeing right through him.

"Are you okay?" you asked again, softer this time.

"No," he thought. "I'm not okay. I'm looking at you in that dress and I can't remember how to be normal. I can't remember how to be anything other than completely, terrifyingly aware of every single thing about you."

"Yeah," he said, standing up. His knees felt weird. His knees never felt weird. "Just tired. Didn't sleep well."

It wasn't even a lie. He hadn't slept well. He'd spent most of the night lying awake, staring at his ceiling, thinking about today. About you. About that dress.

"Bad dreams?" you asked, falling into step beside him.

Something like that.

"Something like that," he echoed.

You hummed, bumping his arm with your elbow. "Well, I heard aquariums are supposed to be relaxing. Maybe it'll help."

"Nothing about today is going to be relaxing," he thought. "I'm going to spend the entire time trying not to look at you, and I'm going to fail, and you're going to notice, and then you're going to ask me what's wrong, and I'm going to have to lie, and I'm going to be bad at it, and-"

"You're doing it again," you said.

"Doing what?"

"The staring thing. You do it a lot."

"Because I can't stop. Because every time I look at you, I find something new to memorize. The way your nose crinkles when you smile. The way you bite your lip when you're thinking. The way you-"

"Just zoned out," he said. "Didn't sleep well, remember?"

You gave him a look. The kind of look that said 'I don't believe you but I'm not going to push.' Then you smiled softly, and the world felt a little brighter.

"Come on," you said. "I want to see the jellyfish."

You started walking faster, your dress swaying with each step, and Satoru watched you for one second — just one — before following.

"You're so screwed," he told himself.

He didn't even try to argue.

PART TWO: THE TRAIN RIDE

The train was crowded.

Not uncomfortably so — just enough that you had to stand close together, holding onto the same overhead rail, your shoulders brushing every time the train swayed.

Satoru had never been more grateful for public transportation in his entire life.

"This is fine," he told himself. "This is normal. Friends stand close together on trains. It's fine."

But then the train lurched, and you stumbled into him, and your hand landed on his chest to catch yourself, and suddenly fine was not the word he would use.

"Sorry!" You pulled back quickly, cheeks flushed. "The train just-"

"It's fine," he said, and his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. Too rough. Too honest.

He looked away.

Through the window, the city blurred past. Buildings and trees and streets, all melting together into streaks of grey and green. But he wasn't really seeing any of it. He was too aware of you — of the warmth of your shoulder against his arm, of the faint smell of your shampoo, of the way your fingers were wrapped around the rail, so close to his own.

"If I move my hand just slightly," he thought, "my pinky would touch hers."

He did not move his hand.

He wanted to. Desperately. But he didn't.

"Because you're a coward," said that annoying voice in his head. "Because you'd rather pine in silence than risk losing her."

The train swayed again, and this time he was ready for it — he braced himself, kept his balance, stayed perfectly still.

You weren't as lucky.

You stumbled again, and this time you didn't catch yourself. Your hand slipped off the rail, and you pitched forward, and Satoru's arm shot out before he could think about it, wrapping around your waist and pulling you against him.

For one breathless moment, neither of you moved.

Your back was pressed against his chest. His arm was around your waist, holding you steady. Your hand came up to grip his forearm, fingers digging into his sleeve.

"You okay?" he asked, and his voice was quieter than he meant it to be. Soft. Almost intimate.

You nodded, not pulling away. "Yeah. Sorry. I'm usually more coordinated."

"Sure you are."

"Shut up."

He laughed — a real laugh, low and warm — and felt you relax against him. Just a little. Just enough.

The train swayed again, and he tightened his arm around you instinctively, holding you closer.

"You should let go," he thought. "The train isn't moving that much anymore. You should let go."

He didn't let go.

Neither did you.

You stayed like that for the rest of the ride — his arm around your waist, your hand on his arm, the city blurring past outside the window. Neither of you said anything. Neither of you pulled away.

When the train finally pulled into your station, you were the one who moved first.

"We should-" you started, pulling back slowly.

"Yeah," he said, dropping his arm. His hand felt cold without you there. "Yeah, we should."

You didn't look at him as you stepped off the train.

He didn't look at you either.

But he could feel you — the ghost of your warmth against his chest, the memory of your hand on his arm — and he knew he would be thinking about this moment for the rest of the day.

Probably the rest of the week.

Probably longer.

PART THREE: THE AQUARIUM

The aquarium was everything you'd hoped for and nothing Satoru had prepared for.

The lights were dim, casting everything in shades of blue and green. The water tanks glowed softly, illuminating the dark corridors with an ethereal, almost dreamlike light. Fish swam lazily behind glass walls, indifferent to the humans watching them.

It should have been calming.

It should have been relaxing.

Instead, Satoru felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

Because you were everywhere.

You walked ahead of him, hands pressed against every tank, face lit up with childlike wonder. You pointed at fish and laughed at the funny-looking ones and made little sounds of delight whenever something particularly beautiful swam by.

And Satoru watched.

Not obviously — or at least, he tried not to be obvious. He hung back a few steps, kept his hands in his pockets, pretended to be interested in the exhibits.

But his eyes kept drifting back to you.

The way the blue light reflected off your skin. The way your dress moved when you turned. The way you bit your lower lip when you were concentrating on something.

"Stop it," he told himself. "Stop staring. She's going to notice."

But he couldn't stop.

"Look!" You grabbed his wrist without thinking, pulling him toward a tank of glowing jellyfish. "Aren't they beautiful?"

He looked.

Not at the jellyfish.

At your hand on his wrist. At your fingers wrapped around him like it was nothing — like touching him didn't send electricity shooting up his arm.

"They're so pretty," you murmured, finally letting go to press your palm against the glass. "Like little dancers."

"Yeah," he said, and his voice came out quieter than he meant it to. "Pretty."

You glanced at him. "Are you even looking at the jellyfish?"

"No," he admitted, because lying felt like too much effort.

You raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you looking at?"

"You," he thought. "Always you."

"Just thinking," he said.

"About what?"

"About how badly I want to hold your hand. About how badly I want to tell you how I feel. About how badly I want to-"

"Nothing important," he said.

You gave him that look again — the one that said you didn't believe him — but you didn't push. You just turned back to the jellyfish and let the moment pass.

Satoru let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

The tunnel was worse.

It was a long, curved corridor with glass on all sides — above, below, left, right. Fish swam overhead, their shadows gliding across the floor. Sharks circled lazily, their massive bodies casting dark shapes against the blue.

And you were right there.

Walking ahead of him, head tilted back, eyes fixed on the sharks. Your dress swayed with each step. The blue light painted patterns on your skin.

Satoru hung back, watching.

"She's so beautiful," he thought. "How is she so beautiful? How does she not know how beautiful she is?"

You stopped walking, turning to look for him. "Satoru? You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"The staring thing. You've been doing it all day."

"Because I can't stop. Because every time I try to look away, I find another reason to look back."

"Just tired," he said, catching up to you. "Didn't sleep well, remember?"

"You mentioned that, yeah." You studied his face for a moment, your eyes searching. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

"No," he thought. "That's not all it is. It's never been all it is."

"Positive," he said.

You didn't look convinced, but you let it go. "Come here. Look at this one."

You pointed at a massive sea turtle swimming overhead, and when he stepped closer to see it, his shoulder pressed against yours.

Neither of you moved away.

He could feel the warmth of your arm through the thin fabric of your dress. He could feel the soft rise and fall of your breathing. He could smell your shampoo — something floral, something that reminded him of spring.

"If he turned his head just slightly," he thought, "his lips would be in your hair."

He did not turn his head.

He wanted to. Desperately. But he didn't.

Because if he did — if he let himself get any closer — he wouldn't be able to stop. He would wrap his arms around you. He would pull you against him. He would tell you everything — how he felt, how long he'd felt it, how terrified he was of losing you.

And he couldn't do that.

Not yet.

Not when he wasn't sure.

"Satoru?"

He blinked. "Yeah?"

"You're doing it again."

"Sorry."

But he didn't look away.

And you didn't tell him to.

PART FOUR: THE COVE

The cove was tucked away at the back of the aquarium, hidden behind a curtain of fake vines and a softly lit sign that said "Bioluminescent Bay." Most people walked past it, too focused on the larger exhibits to notice the small, quiet room tucked away in the corner.

But you noticed.

Of course you noticed.

"Satoru, look!" You ducked through the entrance, and he followed because he would follow you anywhere.

The room was small — circular, with a bench in the center and floor-to-ceiling tanks lining the walls. Bioluminescent jellyfish floated in the water, pulsing soft shades of pink and blue and purple. The light was dim, almost romantic, casting everything in a warm, ethereal glow.

And it was empty.

Completely, blessedly empty.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, sitting down on the bench. Your eyes were fixed on the jellyfish, your expression soft and wondering.

Satoru sat down next to you.

Not too close. Not far enough.

You leaned your head back against the wall, watching the jellyfish drift. "I could stay here forever."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Me too."

A comfortable silence settled between you.

The kind of silence that didn't need to be filled. The kind of silence that only existed between people who knew each other — really knew each other. The kind of silence that felt like coming home.

Satoru's heart was pounding.

Because you were right there.

Your hand was resting on the bench between you, fingers inches from his. Your dress had ridden up just a little where you'd crossed your legs. Your lips were slightly parted as you watched the jellyfish, and every few seconds, you would smile — just a small, private smile — and his chest would ache.

"Tell her," he thought. "Tell her now. The room is empty. No one else is here. Tell her."

But the words wouldn't come.

They never came.

"You've been quiet today," you said, not looking at him.

"Have I?"

"Mhmm." You turned your head, meeting his eyes. "Usually you never shut up. It's kind of nice, actually."

"She noticed," he thought. "Of course she noticed. She notices everything."

"Just tired," he said again, because it was easier than the truth.

You studied his face for a long moment. Your eyes were soft in the dim light, unreadable. He couldn't tell what you were thinking.

"Are you really sure that's all it is?" you asked finally.

"No," he thought. "That's not all it is. It's never been all it is."

But he couldn't say that. He couldn't tell you that he'd been in love with you for months, years actually.. That he thought about you when he woke up and when he went to sleep and in the spaces in between. That you were the first thing on his mind and the last thing he thought about before his eyes closed.

So he said nothing.

He just looked at you.

At your eyes, soft and searching. At your lips, slightly parted. At the way your chest rose and fell with each breath.

And then — without thinking — he reached out.

His hand moved slowly, giving you time to pull away. But you didn't. You stayed perfectly still, watching him, as his fingers brushed against your cheek.

Your skin was warm. Soft.

He traced his thumb along your cheekbone, feather-light, and your eyes fluttered shut.

"This is it," he thought. "This is the moment."

"Satoru," you whispered, and his name had never sounded so sweet.

He leaned closer.

So did you.

The space between you disappeared — inch by inch, breath by breath — until he could feel your breath on his lips. Until he could count your eyelashes. Until the world had shrunk down to just this room, just this bench, just the two of you.

"This is it," he thought again. "This is finally-"

"The aquarium will be closing in ten minutes. Please make your way to the exit. Thank you for visiting!"

The voice crackled over the intercom, loud and jarring, shattering the moment like a stone through glass.

You pulled back.

He pulled back.

Both of you were breathing hard. Both of you were flushed. Both of you were looking anywhere but at each other.

"We should-" you started.

"Yeah," he said, his voice rough. "Yeah, we should."

Neither of you moved.

Then you laughed — nervous and breathless and so fucking adorable he wanted to cry — and stood up. "Come on. Walk me home?"

He stood up on autopilot, his legs moving without his permission.

PART FIVE: THE WALK HOME

The walk back was quiet.

Not the comfortable kind of quiet. The kind of quiet where both people are thinking too loudly to speak. The kind of quiet that feels heavy, charged, like the air before a storm.

Satoru walked beside you, close enough that your arms almost brushed. Close enough that he could feel your presence like a warmth against his side.

Neither of you said anything.

He thought about the jellyfish. About the way your eyes had looked in the dim light. About the way your lips had been so close to his.

"She almost kissed you," his brain kept repeating. "She almost kissed you and you almost kissed her and then-"

And then the interrupter. The stupid, terrible, perfectly timed interrupter.

He wanted to go back. He wanted to find whoever had made that announcement and — well, he wouldn't actually hurt them. But he would think about it. Very hard.

You stopped outside your apartment, fumbling with your keys. Your hands were shaking — just a little — and he wondered if you were as nervous as he was.

"So," you said, not looking at him.

"So," he said.

"This was fun."

"Yeah."

"Aquariums are... nice."

"Very nice."

You finally looked at him. Your cheeks were still pink. Your hair was slightly messy from the humidity. Your lips were still slightly parted, and he could see the ghost of the almost-kiss in your eyes.

"I had a really good time today," you said softly.

"Me too."

A pause.

You bit your lip — that habit of yours, the one that drove him crazy — and looked down at your keys. "Same time next weekend?"

"Yes," he thought. "Yes, absolutely, a thousand times yes."

"Yeah," he said. "Same time next weekend."

You smiled — a real smile, the kind that reached your eyes — and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

"Good," you said. "It's a date."

The word hung in the air between you.

Date.

You hadn't meant it like that. Probably. Maybe. He couldn't tell anymore. He couldn't tell anything when it came to you.

"Goodnight, Satoru," you said, and then you disappeared inside.

The door clicked shut.

And Satoru stood on the sidewalk for a long time, staring at the closed door.

"She almost kissed you," his brain whispered.

"She called it a date," another voice added.

"Don't read into it," a third voice warned. "She didn't mean it like that."

But his heart didn't care what his brain thought.

His heart was still pounding. His lips were still tingling. His hand was still warm from where he'd touched your cheek.

She almost kissed you.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking home, a small, disbelieving smile creeping across his face.

She almost kissed you.

And maybe — just maybe — that meant something.

A/N. HES SO ADORABLE !! I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WRITING THIS 🥹 Plagiarism not authorized. Do not feed my work to AI. Feel free to req!! <3

[daydreamingbambilesbian]

If my girl had a thing for like, aquariums and telling me facts about fish, I would willingly visit every aquarium in the world with her just so she could get all excited and grab my hand to tell me about them.