#it pushed me to draw from pretty shallow reserves to try and get a bit more done

[thekitchensnk]

and the spider lilies bloomed in the fall (chapter 20)

Rating: T Warnings: Violence Pairing: Gin/Ran Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20

“They say that lovers doomed never to see each other again still see the higanbana growing along their path, even to this day.”

A girl collapses on a dusty road one day. A boy takes her home.

The girl lives.

—

(The boy doesn’t.)

Stars still shone in her eyes as she climbed the stairs.

It had been one of those nights -  one of those brilliant, shining nights - where the sake had flowed and the music had run in her blood like a drug - where the night had seemed to last only for the intervening moment between closing and opening her eyes.

She had been freed from her duties behind the bar an hour early and told to enjoy herself, and so she had dove into the crowd to the cheers and whoops of her regular customers, who beckoned her with open arms into the throng.

She had passed the hour twirling on the dance floor, passing from one pair of arms into the next until the flush was high on her cheeks and she was caught up in giddy, breathless excitement.

She had swayed and she had rocked and she had raised her arms into the air wildly and arched back her head. She had bared the delicate column of her neck and her golden hair had cascaded down her back like a waterfall and her golden lashes had fluttered shut as she smiled a heady smile, her white teeth flashing.

Men’s eyes had raked over her, and she had eyed them back with careless abandon from under heavy-lidded eyes, and they had been hypnotised by the movement of her hips and the secret curl of her mouth.

They were hers, those men. She had not had to pay for a drink that entire hour, and she had not spoken as much as a word, preferring to dance and pull them closer and into her arms, only to drop them as she found someone new.

That was all her. They wanted her. They all wanted her.

Her fingers tried to find the tin ring on her finger as she danced, but her fingers found only skin. She had taken it off weeks before. It was too small for her fingers, these days.

Her head was thick and heavy with the alcohol, and she had to watch her step as she stumbled up the stairs. She would likely pay for her fun in the morning, but morning was morning, and now was now.

It had been so bright, she thought feverishly, and so beautiful. Her thoughts were hazy, but they were filled with light, and she felt so close, so attached, to her new friends that she felt she could cry, cry happily and helplessly and hard.

She sang a mumbled song under her breath and she shimmied as she climbed. She did not know the words but it didn’t matter one bit. Her back was sore, her feet were sore, and her legs were sore, but she found that she could grin through the pain.

What a night it had been. She deserved some rest after a night like that.

She had reached the landing where her room was when she heard a strained shout echo from down the corridor.

“You stupid girl!”

Rangiku looked around thick-headedly, but the shout didn’t seem to be directed at her.

That was strange - as far as she knew, she was the resident stupid girl, though it was usually only Sayaka or Ayame who would venture to call her that.

It didn’t matter in any case. She was drunk and she wanted her bed. She grabbed the wall for moral support as she stumbled along the corridor and pulled the door to her room.

She blinked blearily.

Yuki, white-faced and livid, had rounded on Ayame, who shrank back from her, the whites of her eyes visible with fear. Neither noticed Rangiku squinting in the bright light and attempting to sidle along the wall.

Sayaka was watching, and her expression was dark.

“You fool,” Yuki hissed. “How long?” she gritted out.

Ayame’s eyes were glassy with fear.

Yuki took her by the shoulders and shook her violently. “How far along?” Her eyes were mad and intent.

“Yuki-“ Sayaka tried to break-in - but Yuki would not be dissuaded.

Uncomprehending and afraid, Rangiku watched on. Her hands balled up in her yukata and she looked wildly between the three.

“Yuki? What’s the matter?” she tried to ask, but when she spoke, it came out as a confused half-mumble.

Ayame trembled pathetically where she stood; her brown eyes were bright with unshed tears, and she looked up into Yuki’s face in mute terror.

Rangiku was reminded suddenly of something she had known in the back of her mind the entire time she had known Ayame, but never before felt as keenly- that Ayame was young, almost as young as Rangiku herself.

At that moment, she certainly looked it. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her middle, and her mouth was parted. She looked like the child she was.

When she spoke, her voice broke in her throat.

“Five months,” she whispered, as if whispering could somehow make it any less true.

Something in Yuki deflated then, and Rangiku watched on, still drunk and terribly, terribly lost. She did not know what was happening, only that she hated it, that seeing these two women fight made her feel like she was going to start crying helplessly herself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yuki asked, her voice raw. “I could have helped. I have savings.” Yuki looked at her beseechingly. “You didn’t have to suffer alone. Ayame…”

The tears that had been pooling in Ayame’s eyes began to fall then, trailing glistening tracks down her cheeks, but still she said nothing.

Rangiku turned to look at Sayaka, begging her with her eyes to intervene, but Sayaka was as helpless as she was.

Unbidden, something that Ayame had said to her drifted into her mind.

“When I'm gone, the first thing she'll do is coerce you into whoring yourself out for her in my place. I'm on your side, and I will be even when no one else is- you have to listen to me.” Ayame had begged her. She hadn’t understood then, and she didn’t understand now. It made no sense. Why would Ayame leave when she wanted to save enough money to start life on her own?

“Tell me you at least have a plan, Ayame. Tell me that you’re not this stupid,” Yuki begged, looking into her eyes.

Ayame’s lip began to tremble, and she shook her head slowly. She couldn’t meet Yuki’s eyes, too overcome with shame.

Yuki turned and her expression was dazed. “She’s going to find out,” she murmured. “She always finds out. You know that, right? She won’t let you stay. She never does.”

The words were familiar, somehow. Rangiku had heard them before.

It was then that everything suddenly became clear.

The afternoons where the first thing Ayame would do upon waking was throw up.

The way she would always try to pass it off as Rangiku’s cooking, but would always eat anyway, and the way that no one else but Ayame seemed to get ill anymore.

Her anxiety around Chiyo, who had the power to throw her out into the street.

The fact that she had been walking around like she had a death sentence.

The four of them had usually started to bleed within days of each other, almost always without fail. It had almost been something of a joke between them. Yuki had laughed gently about it, and said “Women’s bodies know each other in ways that go beyond what we can see. Think how terrified men everywhere would be if they knew we conspired together.”

Now Rangiku thought back on it, she could not remember Ayame complaining of cramps for months.

She turned to look at her, stumbling as she did so.

Ayame had always been willow-thin and slender, her stomach flat and taut, her limbs long and almost gangly. But if you looked closely, looked beneath the intricately wrapped obi, so meticulously placed and tied in such a way as to create a natural bulge at her belly...

Rangiku’s mouth dropped open in sudden horror. She looked around, and saw everyone’s expressions in a new light - Yuki, bleary eyed and haunted. Sayaka hovering uncertainly, her dark brow tight with worry. Ayame, weeping openly now into her hands.

Rangiku’s eyes were wide.

She knew her role. She was the clown, the child. It was her job to smile brightly and make them all smile. It was her job to make them laugh. It was her job to keep them safe, not just from dangers that came into their beds, but the dangers in their hearts too.

But they were beyond smiling, and so was she. All she could do was bite at her lip till it was red-raw.

Sayaka shook her head in pent-up agitation

“I’m going for a walk,” she snapped suddenly, stalking towards the door.

Yui’s eyes narrowed. “Be careful,” she said softly. “Sayaka?” Sayaka turned viciously, her eyes wild. “Don’t be temp-“

Sayaka didn’t let her finish. “Don’t,” she snarled. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do.”

Rangiku couldn’t help but notice that she wouldn’t meet Yuki’s eyes. The doors banged in their frame as she left.

Yuki’s head tipped back, and she heaved a heavy sigh. She turned to Rangiku for the first time since she had made her way drunkenly up the stairs, and Rangiku flushed self-consciously to suddenly be the subject of attention with Ayame still sobbing plainly in front of them.

But there was something empty in Yuki’s glance, something absent and lost.

“We should all sleep,” Yuki said quietly. “We’re in for a hard few days.”

She spoke with a kind of flat inevitability, and the words echoed out of her as if coming from a place a hundred miles distant.

Rangiku was struck suddenly by the notion that Yuki was not really present, that though her body was there, Yuki herself was lost somewhere else, lost in the same place, lost in the same situation, and lost with the same powerlessness, but with a different crying girl, from a different time.

Alone, Rangiku thought miserably. Sayaka is gone. Yuki is gone. Ayame is gone.

It’s just me. I’m the only one here.

Yuki’s eyes were dull as she lowered herself onto her sleeping mat, and when she curled up, she buried her face in her hands, and turned to face the wall. Her fingers played with a faded length of braided string strung about her wrist.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ayame crawl blindly into her bed, red-faced, her shoulders still shaking.

Rangiku stood on her own quietly, in the middle of that small, but crowded room, and she opened her mouth, to give voice to the small and lonely thing crying out inside her.

Her eyes travelled beseechingly from one side of the room to the other, but all she saw of her room-mates, of the women who had grown to become her best friends, the women she loved, were their backs.

Please, she wanted to say selfishly, say something. Tell me everything is going to be alright.

But nothing was going to be alright. Not even she was innocent enough to think that.

For long moments, there was nothing but silence.

Heart-heavy and eyes resigned, she trod quietly across the tatami and she blew each candle out with a small puff of air.

She lay on her back and stared into the darkness. Her limbs were like lead. Her mouth felt thick with cotton wool and the floor see-sawed slightly beneath her.

Outside, snow dusted the ground like rice flour. Outside, the air was chill and crisp with the first touch of winter.

Inside, it roasted, and coupled with the alcohol, it made her head throb. Inside, the stale, second-hand heat of bodies on the dancefloor had risen through the building to keep them all warm. But inside and out, the night was still and blank.

In the darkness, she could see nothing, and when she blinked, there was no difference between the sight of the back of her own eyelids and the world around her. In the absence of light, she felt herself grow conscious of herself, of the weight of her body against the ground, of the taut and aching muscles in the arch of her feet and the back of her calves, born of a long night spent tending the bar.

Her head ached and her mouth felt like something had died in it, tomorrow’s hangover hanging perilously over her.

She felt like the only wretched creature left alive, abandoned in the darkness.

But that was not quite right.

But there was sound in the darkness, and it kept her away from the aching gravity of her heart and grounded her in the waking world; gentle, tissue-thin sobs sharpened by the darkness made their way into her ears as she stared out.

Because she knew it was there, her ears were filled with the sounds of airy crying and it was impossible to ignore. The noises ripped at her heart and slowly, her shoulders began to shake. Her own lip trembled in sympathy, and her eyes flooded with tears. Her heart ached, and she could not bear it.

She was drunk. She was so drunk. She was four-sheets-to-the-wind plastered.

But as clumsy and wobbling as a new-born animal, she rose to her feet and determined, she stumbled her way through the darkness to where Ayame lay. She stumbled, and she almost fell, but her heart was full.

Matsumoto Rangiku was many things.

She was a ditz. She was an airhead. She was melodramatic. She was vain and she loved the sight of her own face in the mirror, and would practice coy pouts and make kissing faces at herself.

She liked the thought of kissing boys, the hunger in their eyes, and she would throw a tantrum if they didn’t give her the attention she felt she deserved sometimes.

She was lonely and she clung to people fiercely and sometimes she felt like she might be the saddest person in the world. She was greedy and she was lazy and she liked to scam free drinks from men, just because she liked the honey-sweet taste of power and the feeling that someone, somewhere, was paying attention to her.

But she would never let someone cry alone.

She slid under Ayame’s blanket. She still had her work clothes on, and she was not so drunk that she didn’t take a moment to think Oh, Ayame will hate that. She moved blindly, working from the suggestions of heat and noise in the pitch black to find the contours of her friend’s body. She bumped gently against her, like a moth falling against a dim light.

When she did, when she had eventually found her in the darkness, she wound her arms about her tightly and pressed her lips clumsily against her chestnut hair.

Something in them both broke then; the tears that Ayame had been just barely suppressing fell thick and free, and Rangiku felt her grab at her hand as she trembled in her arms.

It was as if Ayame’s feelings became her feelings too; she felt her heart tighten in her chest, and before she knew it, she was crying too, crying into her hair and into her neck, and she squeezed Ayame’s hand with a desperate ferocity, as if to say “I’m here, I’m here. I’ve got you and I love you.”

Her thoughts travelled in a figure of eight, drunken and incoherent and repetitive even in her own head, and each cycle brought with it a fresh wave of misery. She could not help but think of Ayame-  Ayame, alone and helpless on the streets with a squalling baby in her arms, Ayame cold and bruised and empty like Kanae, Ayame defenceless, Ayame hurt- and the thought made her howl and cling all the tighter. Eventually, she could not tell who the tears on her face belonged to- whether they were hers, or whether they were Ayame’s.

It didn’t matter. They stung all the same.

They lay like that a long time, young and breaking apart, both incapable of speech and neither willing to let go, still awake even after Sayaka returned several hours later high as a kite. Sayaka paused to see them, and crawled under the blanket from the other side, her limbs cold and chilled and her teeth chattering. She wrapped her arms about Ayame from the other side, and the three of them lay together, their hair mingling.

The sun rose high in the sky, and Rangiku’s head felt like it would split open with the double pain of a night of tears and a vicious hangover, and she realised dully that the night signalled the end of something, that some gentle and innocent thing inside her had withered away for good with the fading stars.

She had thought the brothel a home, and the girls her family, and even when warned, she had gone on believing it to be something pure and good and beautiful.

She had been a child.

She should have known better. How could this be home when she could be thrown out so easily, like she mattered as much as trash in the street? How could this be a family when they would cast out one of their own into the cruelty of the world and leave her to fend for herself? How could she live with a fear like that hanging over her?

Time after time, she had built up castles on the sand and cried like a child to see them washed away by the sea.

Tucked into the crook of her neck, Ayame was breathing softly.

Outside, snow was drifting softly across the sky, as it had on that night so long ago, the night when she had been abandoned and forced to start over again. Not far off, the river was moving gently under the saffron-coloured bridge, and the snow covered that too.

There was no bird-song. All was quiet.

Rangiku tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Ayame’s ear, and her expression was firm.

It had been a long time coming, but she had made up her mind at last.

She was no longer a child. She was done with building sand-castles.

[kiranatrix]

What kind of Lawlight do you write? Anything short-ish with some angst?

Hooboy, yeah I write angst, fluff, spicy stuff, long and short fic. *flips through the menu* Here’s a pretty short ‘n angsty fic called Truth Serum that might scratch your itch. I’ll just paste it below since it’s not too long. You can find me on AO3 under zombiejesus for more.

—————-

It didn’t take long for L to recognize the subtle changes in Light after the Yotsuba case had ended. He was quieter now, more reserved. Kept to himself now that the handcuffs no longer bound them to the same spaces, to each other.

And if L was being honest, he missed it, in a way. But he wasn’t being honest, not with Light—he pretended like nothing had changed and he hadn’t noticed the changes in behavior—and not with himself.

But he knew he didn’t have much time left, felt the silent danger floating behind Light’s eyes. He saw a plan there, a cold confidence that betrayed Light’s feelings that he’d already won. Perhaps it was just a matter of time now. But what is he waiting for?

L had considered carefully his remaining options and none were likely to save his life, let alone expose Light as Kira. But there was one he hadn’t tried yet. Truth serum.

L held the syringe in his hands now, hovering over Light’s arm as he was restrained in the chair. It was just the two of them, Light had insisted on that stipulation if he was to go along with this. L still wasn’t completely sure why Light had agreed. Was he that confident he could beat it? Surely he didn’t think L believed he was innocent. But Light did have enormous willpower. Perhaps he really could.

”Last chance to back out of this, Kira.”

Light just shot him an irritated look and faced the wall, “Just get it over with.”

L applied the tourniquet and injected the drug into Light’s vein, holding a cotton pad over the injection site when he pulled the syringe back. He placed the empty syringe on a tray on the table and crouched in the chair across from Light.

Light began to sweat, he felt suddenly very hot as his mind became clouded, hazy. He tried to fight against it, but his eyes gradually unfocused as a fog descended. “Is...is this safe, Ryuzaki...”

”Other than the risks we discussed before, it’s perfectly safe.” He’d consulted with doctors about the dosage and precautions, and while no permanent damage was expected, some brief memory loss might occur. “As long as you have nothing to hide.”

Light swallowed hard, his throat felt dry and tight. He was drifting, hanging onto L’s voice and trying to focus, but he found his mental barriers, his practiced defenses, falling away under the drug’s influence. He slumped forward in the chair a bit, his chin resting on his chest as he tried to concentrate on breathing. He summoned up some scraps of defiance. “Doesn’t this...feel like cheating, Ryuzaki...using a drug? You must be...desperate.” A small smile as he lifted his large black pupils to meet L’s stare, but it was a broken mirror of Kira.

Something in L knew that’s exactly what this was. A last flailing attempt before it was too late. But he denied it to himself. It isn’t cheating. It’s the last option available to me.

”A few easy questions to see how you’re responding. State your name.”

”Yagami Light.” He looked at L, his eyes begging him not to do this. As strong as his willpower was, it was frighteningly clear he couldn’t fight this.

”And how old are you?”

”Eighteen.”

L paused. “Where did we meet?”

Light’s pupils tried to focus but only fluttered. “Our first meeting was...at To-Oh.”

”And what were your impressions then?”

Light whispered, “I thought you were strange. I thought you were beautiful.”

L looked up at the ceiling, a pain in his chest preventing him from looking at Light, now slightly drooling and unable to wipe it away. He stood up and took a tissue, wiping Light’s mouth. “You thought I was beautiful?”

”Yes.”

L returned to crouch in his chair, eyes unblinking. ”What did you think when I told you I was L?”

”I...was scared at first and then...I wanted to know you better. Get close to you. Work with you.”

”You wanted to join the Kira case, but why exactly?”

”I...admired you. It was an honor to be asked and I wanted to prove to you that...I was smart enough.”

”Smart enough for what?”

”My dream...to work beside you. Be a detective, solve cases like my father. Help you...as L.”

“And how did you feel when you came on to help?”

”Confident. Excited to be nearer to you. I felt...” Light swallowed hard but went on, “...attracted to you.”

”You were...attracted to me?” L was surprised, his eyes going even wider than their usual huge circumference.

”Yes.”

”But wasn’t Amane Misa your girlfriend?”

”In name only.”

”You don’t love her?”

Light looked away, “No.”

”Then why pretend?”

”She can see...names.” Light whimpered as the words were yanked from him.

L whispered, ”My name?”

Light jerked against the restraints, then slumped into them. Despair dripped from his voice, “Yes, she told me some time ago.”

“Then why am I alive?” L leaned forward in his crouch, his thumb pressed hard to his bottom lip.

Light felt panicked, the question wasn’t incriminating per se, but his answer would destroy him nonetheless. A whisper, “Because...I’m in love with you.”

The questions L had meant to ask: ‘Are you Kira?’...‘How do you kill?’...these stuck in the back of L’s throat as Light raised his unfocused eyes to L’s. He’s suffering, scared. He’s trying to fight this but he can’t. He’s waiting for the big questions that will end him. And he’s right. It is cheating.

A drop of sweat dripped from Light’s bangs hanging down in his face, and he struggled to regain control of his mind and fight the cheat. L saw fear flicker in Light’s eyes as their battle shifted from his favor, and as Light strained to lift his head, and managed to do it, L had never respected him more.

Light shuddered against the bindings, his breathing somewhat shallow. “You must have dosed me good, Ryuzaki.” He smiled sadly, confidence stripped away. “Aren’t you going to—“

”You’re in love with me?”

Light squeezed his eyes shut, breathing harder, “You make me say it again? I don’t want to be, but...yes.” The affirmation came out in broken pants.

L stared at him. These are Light’s truths. He’s fighting it. Being honest for...once in his life? But wasn’t it too much to ask for truth, given what we both are, who we are? I’ve lied too, Light. Lied my whole life too.

Light balled his fists and screamed at him, “Come on! Don’t draw it out to torture me! Just get it over with!”

L knew he could ask Light anything. He’d succumbed to the serum completely. “Light...” He got up and moved his chair closer, uncurling Light’s clenched hand into his own. And instead of asking about Kira, he asked Light to talk about his life, his dreams, the things he finds beautiful or scary or have broken his heart or cheered him. His childhood. His accomplishments. His failures. What he likes about L. What he loves.

”The way you stir your teacup so it never clinks the sides...

The way you look at me in the morning, right when you wake up, before you remember...

The way we challenge each other, even when we don’t have to, just because we can...

The way you chase me but don’t catch me, and I let you...

The flush on your cheeks when I touch you by accident...

These things, L. So many things.”

L gets to know the real Light, the one behind the mask he wears daily, over the afternoon. Putting off the big bomb questions, even though he knows he shouldn’t. He’d finally gotten the chance to know anything about Light but the Kira questions fade away in his mind. But eventually, L sees the truth serum is starting to wear off and Light is less groggy now, more guarded. L gets less and less out of him until finally Light has his mask back up completely.

Light’s pupils were sharply focused now, and he raises his head confidently. His breathing was normalized, and a tiny smirk started to form again on his lips. “Is the session over? Did you get everything you wanted?” He pulled his hand back into a fist, away from L’s, not remembering much about what he had said under the serum’s influence. But Light’s confidence was such that he felt he’d never compromise himself. And would L still be sitting here if I had? I’d be halfway to jail by now.

L sighed, considering what to do. He knew what he should have done. What he should do now. Why do I fear it, put it off? It’s what I’ve been working towards this whole time! And there may be very little time left.

Light wiggled impatiently, “Ryuzaki, are we through?”

L stood up and walked over to the table, taking a new syringe and pulling another dose of serum. Light shook his head rapidly and protested but L plunged the needle into his vein, and pushed the serum in.

“L, no...please stop...” The smirk felt away and the fear returned, and a new expression. Betrayal. Tears streamed down Light’s face this time, and he yelled, “Cheater!”

L pulled one more dose and crouched beside Light, watching his pupils become unfocused wide blackness again. “We’re going to be honest with each other, Light.” He injected the serum into his own arm. “Both of us.”

L knew they probably wouldn’t remember anything the other said after the drug wore off. No one was voicing questions. But the voice in L’s head that kept him up at night posed one instead.

He took Light’s hand, and told the truth.

[ayanna-wild]

Because You're Beautiful

Word Count: 1264

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Plus size Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, possible trigger

A/N: Request from Wattpad, nearly all of my stories are made to fit pretty much anyone's body type and or ethnicity, as I try to keep the reader's description as vague as possible, however if you'd like to directly address a certain aspect, like this story, feel free to ask!

“Loving your body is about being comfortable in your body, and only you get to set the parameters of that. Only you get to decide what that looks like, and only you know where the finish line is. Never let anyone make you feel ashamed about what you decide, or don't decide, to put on your body.” — Brittany Gibbons

Summary: You hadn’t really wanted to go to Lux, to a crowded club, with so many people. But Lucifer had looked so hopeful when he asked you to come, and you never could say no to him. When the night quickly turns sour though, your loving devil is there to remind you just how much he truly loves you.

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

You stared at yourself in the mirror, dawned in the nicest dress you owed. Well truthfully the dress you had bought just for this occasion. You shifted nervously as you begun to second guess yourself the longer you stared.

Was this dress the right color for you?

Was it the right style? The right length?

So many doubts began to cloud your mind. You were thicker than most girls and although you were happy with yourself, your insecurities still reared their ugly head from time to time. The abrupt knocking on your door silenced your runaway thoughts. You took one last dissatisfied look before moving to answer it. The familiar smile of the handsome man on the other side quieted your insecurities just a little and you smiled back, albeit rather stiffly.

"My darling you look stunning! Is that a new dress? I haven't seen it before." He smiled approvingly as his eyes roamed over your figure.

You shifted from one foot to the other under his intense gaze.

"I just bought it actually, I figured I should look nice for tonight."

Tonight being the first night you'd agreed to accompany Lucifer to such a crowded place. The first night you allowed him to proudly show you off as his girlfriend. You were normally more reserved in your relationship with Lucifer. You'd seldom agree to go anywhere too many people would see. You had told him it was simply because you were shy but in truth you felt almost ashamed. The women Lucifer used to date were stunning, perfectly sculpted, and much, much different from you.

So, despite your anxiety, your insecurities, your fears, you'd agreed to come out with him tonight. Agreed because he'd asked you so sweetly, agreed because he'd been so eager to show you off.

You, his beautiful girlfriend, as he put it.

And him, the gorgeous man, far out of your league.

"Well I think it’s beautiful on you, shall we?"

Lucifer held his arm out and you wrapped your arm around his. His smile was almost blinding, and he led you to his car, beaming in pride.

The ride to Lux was mostly quiet, at least from your end, Lucifer however had no problem chatting away. Even if it was more of a one-sided conversation. You caught every other word he said, mostly trying to psych yourself up for the evening ahead.

When the two of you had finally arrived you were a puddle of anxiety and stress. He must have sensed your internal dismay and gently placed a hand on your thigh, his smile encouraging and his eyes filled with worry.

"You'll be fine my dear, and if it gets to be too much, we can always sneak out." He winked.

You let out a breathy laugh, a bit more at ease and you nodded. Lucifer leaned over, kissing your forehead.

"My beautiful love." He murmured.

~

The night although a bit stressful was going wonderfully, you were actually having fun. Lucifer was showing you off to anyone he could, a proud and somewhat smug look on his face the whole time. His introductions often started with 'my beautiful' or 'my lovely' and once even 'my goddess', you'd elbowed him for that one. Lucifer's affection for you made you feel like you were on cloud nine and your worries melted away.

Until he left you alone to refill your drinks.

You'd been standing at a table, glancing around at all the people when a woman approached you. She had silky black hair, and porcelain skin and her dress clung to her slim figure in the most flattering way. Her expression held no kindness and you frowned a little.

"You're Lucifer's girlfriend?"

It was a seemingly innocent question but the way she'd said it, with such distaste and disbelief, made it clear what she really thought.

"Yes..."

You really wished your voice hadn't come out so quiet.

"Why?"

She looked you up and down, a disapproving frown on her face.

"Look at you."

Her words stung and you visibly flinched as if she'd slapped you.

"He's just..."

"Is this a sort of pity date? Is he doing you a favor?"

Her questions made you feel small, so insignificant.

"I'm sorry but who are you?"

You tried to sound indifferent but your voice faded off.

"Lucifer and I used to hook up now and then, he broke off our arrangement whenever he started dating though. I just didn't know it was for someone like you. You're not nearly as skinny as the girl's he usually goes for."

She curled her lip in disgust and you cast your eyes downward, suddenly ashamed and fighting back tears.

"You don't belong with someone like him. Look at you! You'll only weigh him down." She smiled cruelly pushing past you.

You stumbled back when she intentionally bumped her shoulder into yours. A hand on your back steadied you and you watched as the woman took a step back. Her vicious smile gone.

"Lucifer... I-I didn't see you there..." She said.

You looked up at your boyfriend, whose expression was dark and furious. His hand moved from your back to your waist, and he pulled you close to his side.

"Clearly."

The tone of his voice sent chills down even your spine and you weren’t the one on the receiving end of his anger.

"I was just-"

"I heard what you were doing Molly. Now leave my club, you're no longer welcomed here." Lucifer snapped.

The woman, Molly, gaped at him in disbelief, and she stuttered out a protest.

"You're kicking me out! Over her!? How could you choose someone like that over me!"

Lucifer gave her a vindictive smile, and he held you closer.

"Because her beauty isn't skin deep, and quite frankly my dear, you're as shallow as a puddle, I prefer someone with a little more depth, which you lack entirely. You may have your looks, but you're a truly hideous human being."

Lucifer waved the bouncer over and led you away as you listened to Molly screech as she was escorted out.

~

Lucifer had taken you up to the penthouse, encouraged you to take off your heels and had gotten you a slightly stronger drink than you'd had before.

"I'm sorry I left you alone for so long darling, are you alright?"

You forced a smile, waving a hand dismissively.

"I'm alright Luc, it's nothing I didn't already know."

He frowned at your words, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" He questioned.

You averted your gaze from his.

"She wasn't wrong, sure her words hurt, but she had a point."

Lucifer felt his heart ache at your words.

"What did she say Y/N?"

You stilled refused to look at him, instead choosing to pick at the fabric of your dress.

"That you were out of my league, I would only weigh you down, that I'm... I'm well I'm thicker than most girls. Just reminding me of things I already knew." You mumbled.

Lucifer was quiet for a moment, and you couldn’t bare to look at him. But in the next second your drink was plucked from your hands and you were being pulled into a crushing embrace.

"Oh love, don't you know I think you're perfect how you are? You're a kind and wonderful person. You light up a room just by walking in, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

You blinked back tears, holding him tightly as he kissed the top of your head.

"Darling I wouldn't change a thing about you." Lucifer muttered.

"Even if I'm heavy?"

He chuckled pulling away to cup your face in his hands.

"Especially that, besides there's just more for me to love, and I do love you, very much."

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

Tag List: @sallyp-53 @mizzezm @adira-secrets @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @gingernarwal @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @measure-in-pain @emiwrites3reads @stubby-toe-589331 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @kelly-n-russell @krispyalpacaduck

[gofancyninjaworld]

watching ONE write women

One of the joys of following a writer for a while is that you get to follow how their ideas develop.   One of the things that ONE brought up in an interview (annoyingly I’ve lost the link) was that he didn’t think that he wrote women particularly well. 

I was thinking about that.  When ONE says that, what comes across to me is that he has no problem writing a female character as an individual rather than a role.  All the girls and women he’s written so far have their own voices, own their problems, and have something to do within the story that would be noticeable if they weren’t there.  Quite frankly, that alone is over and above what various tests of representation (such as the Bechdel test) ask for.  

What he’s not so good at is appreciating what being female brings to a character’s experiences and outlook.  But he’s not just left it at that.  More on what he’s been doing in a bit (and under the cut).

“...the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges...” -- Anatole France

With his sharp eye and talent for exploring the implications of whatever he posits, ONE has brought up some issues are not inherently gendered, but usually are. 

A: Childcare

Metal Bat appears to be the main, if not sole, carer for Zenko.  How it affects him is fascinating.  He’s one of the longest-serving heroes in the Hero Association, being there before Class S was formed, literally within the first six months of its establishment.  He’s been extremely loyal and is highly trusted by the HA -- they put Narinki’s life into his hands without fear.  His battle strength is literally praised to the heavens.

Metal Bat makes Zenko a priority, structuring his availability around her school schedule and being present in her life. He gets very angry if these times are threatened without overwhelmingly good cause.  His reward is to be perceived by the Hero Association as less committed and so they under-recognise him in terms of ranking, and since rank and pay are linked, under-pay him as well.  It’s a story all too many women can relate to.  But that’s not all.

Because ONE writes so simply yet conscientiously, something else comes up and has a peek: intersectionality. It’s the concept that we often have multiple social disadvantages that interact and compound our problems.  The first is sexism.  Regardless of whatever childcare policy the HA has, the sexist assumption that only women care (for the record: this is bullshit) makes it unlikely for them to ask Metal Bat.  Second, social capital. The fact that he’s Zenko’s sole carer means that he has low social capital, that informal network of people around you who can help out -- or tell you where to find help and what things to say in order to get that help. [Aside: this is why programmes to help people, unless they reach out aggressively, tend to disproportionately attract those who need it least.]  Metal Bat doesn’t have the knowledge.  The third is the challenge brought by his being a 17-year old boy.  He’s quick to perceive challenge as threat, and threat as something to be met by anger.  Witness him threatening to smash the HA headquarters if it turns out that he’s missed Zenko’s piano recital for nothing -- completely not useful to anything. [Another aside: the importance of learning to disambiguate emotions and do useful things with them even if it means being vulnerable as a part of growing up as a man is the whole point of Mob Psycho 100.]

What do the Neo Heroes do?  They ask Metal Bat if he wants help with childcare AND HE JUMPS SHIP PRONTO.  If that’s not an indictment of the Hero Association, I don’t know what is.

B: Emotional Labour

Saitama has been delegating more and more of the day-to-day work to Genos.  What started as an act of service to express his gratitude, respect and love for Saitama is increasingly turning into a second job for Genos.  It’s not just the cooking and cleaning and the shopping and the bailing Saitama out if he’s forgotten his wallet again, it’s also the worrying about Saitama, sometimes at inappropriate times.  Has he drunk enough water?  Has he clean clothes in good repair? What sales is he looking forward to? Have they been marked on the calendar?  It’s honestly not doing Genos any good, and it’s one of those things all too many frustrated wives and girlfriends can relate to.  This doing the practical and emotional work for another is not intrinsically gendered, but funny how often it breaks that way.

It’s not doing Saitama any good either.  He’s using this freed up time to fritter his life ever more aggressively away, playing games with King and finding pointless competitions to enter, all while complaining about feeling less and less connected to anything (if you don’t address the problem, it doesn’t get better, duh!).  Worse, he’s started to take that gift of service for granted, witness him airily telling King how he’ll just have Genos go clear up the mess of monsters he’s left outside the flat.  I was heartened to see what happened when Saitama went a little too far and asked Genos to go cook and instead of jumping up, Genos gave him the the evil eye and let the awkwardness hang there.  That was good -- there’s hope for this guy yet.

Speaking of Genos, he also over-functions for something else Saitama struggles with: advocating for himself.  He tends to have Genos be the ugly one so he doesn’t have to be.   You can see just how bad he is at self-advocacy when Forte and friends could invite themselves into Saitama’s house at will despite his protests -- and it stopped the instant Genos showed up.

In a sense, it’s not surprising that Genos can do that. When you’re differently-abled (and for once, this is not a euphemism) as he is, being able to clearly ask for what you want and need is life-and-death necessary. If Genos was shy about it, he’s long since had to discard that.  But!  Let me point to a nuance the story touches on.  How pushy you can be without being punished for it depends a lot on who you are, intersecting strongly with race, gender, social status, etc (remember my mentioning intersectionality before). What’s called assertive in a man is called bitchy or sharp-elbowed in a woman.  Even taking gender and race out of the equation, there’s still a noticeable difference in the way the world treats Saitama and Genos.  You don’t need to be Sigmund Freud to understand the way the short, ugly Dr. Kuseno sweats making sure that Genos positively radiates youth, beauty, wealth and power. That’s part of his right to ask and be taken seriously.  You can see how drastically different it is for Saitama, even from his middle school days.  Genos notices, and makes sure to leverage his social power for Saitama. 

What I love about these examples are that by not automatically heaving a woman into these characters’ roles, ONE’s brought a less frequently seen angle that illustrates the problems they deal with are not ‘womens’ issues per se but are rather inequities that disproportionately affect women -- which is at the heart of what feminists keep saying.  When you read Makai no Ossan, you can appreciate that ONE could have gone with female characters and done a great job, but his choosing not to has brought a very welcome dimension to the story.

Women proper

“I’m not like other girls”

Still, bit by bit, ONE has been working more women into his stories.  After his interview, the next thing he worked on was the single-volume sequel to Mob Psycho 100,  Reigen.  He took his challenge head-on by making the POV character Tome and putting her in an all-girls’ high school.

Throughout the story, we see Tome thinking of herself as special, better than her fellow classmates, whom she sees as vapid and shallow.  The denouement comes with Tome being humbled as she gets to know her classmates better and realises that  they pursue interests just as varied and weird as hers -- only they’re also practicing being socially adept on top of that.

It’s a gentle story, but it’s still a great side-swipe at self-internalised misogyny, the idea that it’s shameful to be like a ‘girl’ and it’s something to distance oneself from.   Fortunately, Tome can laugh at herself and grow up.

“Ha ha ha”

For a long time, the only (named) women we had in OPM were Tatsumaki and her younger sister Fubuki.   We’ve gotten more women both good and bad: in particular, it’s been very gratifying to find that one of the most dangerous, story-shaping villains in the story is Psykos.

In the webcomic, ONE’s pushed even further.  A recent Tweet featured him talking about how hard he finds it to draw women. And he’s added several.   No same-face for him!    I’ll talk about the new heroines he’s added, but first, let me draw your attentions to something most artists don’t realize they do: massively skew the gender distribution of crowds, even when it is incredibly illogical to do so.   With ONE, even drawing the crowds at the fair who gaggle at Amai Mask, he’s got a far more even balance of women and they’re not all young and pretty -- which is much more true-to-life.  He’s in the business of drawing people.

ONE has featured microaggressions before, particularly in the way Fubuki can have perfectly sound things to say and be totally ignored,  but he brings it properly to the fore with Suiko.  No one calls her incompetent, but the little put downs she gets when she puts herself forward for the hero test in lieu of her brother, oh they’re well-observed The look on her face just makes it.  I love the way she shut the recruiters up subsequently. 

  Let’s conclude this tour with a look at Webigaza’s lonely figure.  We have another mono-manically focused cyborg in the story.  Genos has been called a lot of things -- determined, obsessive even, but crazy? Never. Notice who it’s been reserved for instead.  It’s no slip of the tongue.

Wrapping Up

I’m of the impression that ONE really wants to try to capture as much of the human experience as he can in his stories, however whimsical or fantastical the stories themselves are.  I’m disarmed by his humility in accepting that he’ll never have the lived experience of half the world’s population but he sure as hell can put some effort into learning how to to writing well-realised, believable, female characters.  

I watch ONE’s continued development as a writer with interest.    

[consumedkings-archive]

“ i thought you only had eyes for me. ” serve us some unholy trinity queen xoxo

oh!!! hello dove!!! thank u for gracing my inbox i am SO unworthy but so happy to try and provide you some content!! i hope you don’t mind that i combined yours and @shallow-gravy’s requests.... they just felt like they fit so well together, i couldn’t resist  (ಥ﹏ಥ)

iii. vicious traditions ✤ the unholy trinity

john/elliot/diana + “i thought you only had eyes for me” and “i can’t stop picturing you with her” or: a dissertation on “Mine is a noun if you capitalize it” john seed struggling to reconcile sharing his wife and also having more of what he Wants. taken from this prompt list!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: language, sexual themes, but nothing explicit. as always, herald!elliot and john deserve their own warning. ✧･ﾟ also i only sort of proof read this so APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE

The first time Elliot kisses Diana, John thinks about it for three days after.

He’s known. Of course, he’s always known, because Elliot made it perfectly clear why she wanted the deputy from the get-go. I like her, she’d said, a phrase normally reserved for the most puzzling of obstacles. It’s not a game, isn’t fun if she doesn’t have to work for it, and on that front he and Elliot differ entirely—he would prefer Diana Baker’s complete and utter submission, in written and verbal form, handed over in a glass frame so that he can hang it on the wall in the bedroom to admire as he pleases.

In a way, he does. Each time there is a violent collision, each time their mouths and teeth meet, he holds onto it for a while—keeps it for himself, even though his wife is pacing herself, even though she reprimands him for rushing, for pushing Diana too far too fast.

Conversely, Elliot wants to work for it. She wants to get her hands dirty, elbows deep in the gore of Diana, the filthy fucking carnivore that she is, and normally John would love it; normally, it’s one of his favorite things about his wife, that she’s so willing to get the blood up to her elbows, no gloves required. Normally, he likes watching her sink her teeth in—but it’s different, now.

Diana is different. 

She has always been different. She is the exception to every one of their rules. They had taken lovers, before, to share—this was not new—but they had never taken someone permanently, not the way that Elliot wants Diana (and the way that John wants the deputy, too). They would have never tolerated this kind of blatant disrespect from anyone, not even a pretty little viper skittering through their garden.

But they do; whenever she takes something, Elliot will just go out and take it back. She’ll go out and build a new silo—it doesn’t replace the product, but what can you do—or she’ll pay the viciousness back, in turn, another way. Hit them somewhere else. They’re incapable, nearly, without Diana—so if she’s all the way in the Henbane, who’s going to pay attention to poor Fall’s End?

It goes like this, on and on, vicious cycles before Diana eventually finds herself back there. This evening, John expects no change of pace, but when Diana enters the room, Elliot’s eyes fix on her; he feels like the outside party, the interloper, because the blonde clicks her tongue and brings Diana, bloodied and bruised, to her with delicate fingers.

“Let me see,” Elliot says, the pads of her fingers tilting Diana’s chin up, smoothing along the pillar of her throat. John can only watch—memorizing the way Elliot touches her, different than the way Elliot touches him, both because he wants to covet the image in his mind for as long as possible and because, like watching a car crash in motion, he cannot look away.

And he cannot look away when his wife guides the deputy’s face to hers and kisses her, either. 

It’s not even a particularly enticing looking kiss, really. It’s nothing more than a chaste brush of lips, with all of the desexing of a kiss from the Pope, but the intent and the message behind it is clear, because Elliot’s eyes look to him pointedly.

See? The kiss says, his wife’s thumb coming up to drag on Diana’s lower lip, making the brunette’s breath hitch in her throat. See how good she is for us?

So yes, he can’t stop thinking about it. Not that night, and not the morning after, when Diana has left in their sleep—a shorter visit than usual, perhaps spooked by the physical intimacy, strange and alien in comparison to the way that John and her have locked lips before—and there is a whole conflict of emotions occurring in him for another two days after that.

I do like that she’s good for us, he thinks, watching Elliot at the vanity, pulling her hair back from her face. He does like it, he does like that Diana Baker comes back to them time and time again, but Elliot is their bridge—she’s the go-between, and this slow progress means that John has become the interloper.

“What is it?” Elliot asks, watching him through the mirror. She’s given up trying to put her hair up in a ponytail and instead now sits, cinched in a silk robe, chin in her hand as she gazes at him.

His mouth twists. He shifts back against the pillows. “I can’t stop picturing you with her.”

The blonde’s eyes don’t flicker, not even a little bit. Not a sliver of softness in her expression. She doesn’t move to comfort him—and she wouldn’t, but he wishes, sometimes, that she would come to him more readily; but any emotion, any feeling, makes her feel deranged, makes her feel seen, and one of those is worse than the other—but rather watches him.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Elliot smooths a strand of hair from her face. “For you to think about your girls? Together?”

John’s mouth plants itself in a frown. “I’m not being funny, hellcat.”

“What’s so different?” she says at last.

“What do you mean?”

“Well.” It’s her turn to shift carefully moving some items on the vanity out of the way—trinkets, kept from her childhood. “What’s so different this time?”

“It’s—she’s yours,” John posits.

“Noelle was mine,” Elliot says plainly. “You loved Noelle. You called us your little wolves.”

“Yes, well—” He sits up, swallowing. “It’s different.”

Elliot turns in her seat so that she’s looking at him now, and he can see it—the brows furrowing, the defiant tilt of her chin in his direction. “So I’ve gathered.”

“Elliot—”

“But I’m asking what makes it different.”

“It’s different because you picked her!” John snaps, finally, the hot spike of emotion flaring in his chest. “You singled her out. She’s your—”

“Our.”

“She’s not mine,” he manages out, voice bridging on strained. “She’s not, and you know that. And you want her for longer. It’s always just been a little while, and you want to keep her, don’t you?”

Elliot stares at him. “Don’t you?”

Yes, John thinks, furious, mouth dry. Yes, I do. I want her for-fucking-ever, the same way I want you, until the cold black fucking end. I want her forever, just like you, and she won’t fucking have me.

“I thought you only had eyes for me,” he says instead.

The blonde sighs, coming to a stand finally—at last—coming to him, crawling onto his lap.

“I have eyes,” she murmurs, draping her arms around his shoulders, “for us.”

John exhales through his nose. It’s more complicated than that. It’s more complicated because Elliot so easily fits with Diana—even in the beginning. Elliot’s strange juxtaposition between Diana and John afforded her a comfortable advantage on both playing fields, as it does now; and maybe he’s jealous of that, too, that his wife, beautiful and charming and deadly in equal parts, is somehow reeling Diana in better than he could. With less carnage.

It should be him. He should be the one winning Diana over, drawing her to them, presenting her to Elliot as his conquest, his gift, for them to both enjoy. And no matter which way, she always bucks against him.

“Honey,” Elliot says, her voice soft. “I’m your wife. And she’ll be our wife. Don’t you want that?”

Dropping his head against her shoulder, he lets her card her fingers through his hair. “Yes,” he manages out. “I do.”

“Then let me get her for us, baby.” The blonde’s words are light. “What’s mine is yours, so if I get what I want, then we get what we want.” Her lips brush against his temple as his arms wind around her. “You’re always doing everything for me. Trust me to do this for you.” Another pause, and then: “For us.”

His chest feels tight. He thinks, no, I have to do it, you asked me, and he thinks, I don’t like sharing my wife, and he thinks, I want her too, I want Diana too.

And he thinks, yes, please, do this for me.

“I do,” he says, into the crook of her neck. “I trust you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s late; the sky is speckled with stars and dark clouds, promising a storm on the way even amidst the humid summer heat, and John is exceptionally tired.

This isn’t the first time he’s stayed late at the compound, listening to Joseph’s furious whispers, and it certainly won’t be the last. But now he’s home, and his shoulders ache and burn with the tension of having driven himself home, and the last thing that he wants to do is think about anything.

However, as he enters the bedroom, he’s surprised to find not one viper in his bed, but two.

“You’re home,” Elliot says, her voice sweet; thick and syrupy and laden with what he can only assume are the remnants of red wine from the empty glass on the bedside table. “We missed you.”

He looks at Diana. She seems less pleased at his presence, but there is a tenuous curiosity; Elliot’s said something to her, done something, but there’s no reeking floral scent of Bliss, and there’s clarity in both of their eyes. No games here, he thinks, even as he tentatively crosses the distance between the doorway and the foot of the bed.

“Did you, now?” John asks, shrugging out of his jacket.

“One of us, anyway,” Diana says, the bite in her voice not at all lessened by the humidity of the room.

His wife smiles at him, and she tilts Diana’s face towards hers and kisses her—long and languid and open-mouthed, and he watches her pearly teeth dig into the deputy’s lower lip. A rebuke. She’s done it to him plenty of times; seeing her do it to Diana spikes something wretched and desirous in him.

Against the brunette’s mouth, Elliot says, “Don’t be cruel, honey. John’s been working hard.”

She beckons John with a crook of her fingers, and of course, he obeys, slides onto the bed and lets Elliot hook her fingers into the front of his shirt so that she can undo the first few buttons.

“Diana’s been working hard, too,” Elliot murmurs. “But we’re going to take care of her, aren’t we?” She looks at Diana, lips kiss-reddened and gaze hungry—and he can tell that the deputy’s in a mood, like maybe she can’t quite get the taste of blood out of her mouth, and he likes it. “Do you want that, baby?”

The brunette’s eyes flutter. She swallows thickly, hesitating. “I—” Diana begins, and she looks like she wants to say yes but that stubborn, obstinate nature of hers, purposefully obtuse for the sake of raking up his ire, is rearing its head.

“John.” His wife’s voice is saccharine. She moves lithely, sitting behind Diana, letting the brunette lean back against her a little. “Are you going to show the deputy how nice we can be?”

His chest is pleasantly tight, at the vision of them—his vipers, perfectly entangled, eyes fixed on him. Not so much an interloper, anymore.

John leans in, tilting Diana’s chin up; there’s a second of hesitation where he thinks maybe she’s going to balk, throw nails and teeth to get out from between them, but Elliot grazes her mouth along the brunette’s neck and purrs, “Let us take care of you,” and the brunette’s body relaxes, just a little, just that much where he can lean in and kiss her.

And kiss her, and kiss her, in a way that he’s never been able to before. Luxuriating in it. Tasting the ash and blood and red wine in her mouth, and liking it.

“So good,” he hears Elliot praise silkily, when their kiss breaks. “We have the loveliest little viper, baby.”

“Yes,” John agrees, and his voice is rough as it comes out of him, the electricity palpable. “We certainly do.”

Diana watches him for a moment, her fingers knotted in Elliot’s hair, before she leans forward and captures his mouth in a kiss more punishing than the last, with more teeth and heat; he can hear his wife sighing delightedly into the brunette’s skin, and for the first time, it feels most apt to say we have and not you have.

Ours, John thinks, mind fuzzing pleasantly in the static aftershock of Diana’s kiss.

Our little viper.

[amynchan]

“i said i love you.” Deku/Ochako

I hope you’re proud of what you’ve begun.  XD  This behemoth decided it wanted to be 3823 words long and who was I to deny it?  X’D

I’ll also post to AO3

.../.../.../.../.../.../.../.../

The two of them did this a lot.  It was part of their routine; kinda theirthing.  It was something they’d chosen todo together, and they both relished and enjoyed it.

“Get back here!” laughed Ochako between breaths.  She kept herself light on her feet as shewent forward with another jab.  “Youcan’t run away from this forever!”

“Who says I’m running?” returned Deku-kun as he slipped pasther fist and towards her exposed face. He propelled his body towards hers and she jumped out of his space,careful of the headbutt he had been about to dish out.  His grin was competitive.  “I’m just getting warmed up!”

Ochako couldn’t help her answering grin even as she dartedjust a hair’s breadth out of his reach. “Oh, so you were just playing before now?  I’m wounded. Truly.  And here I thought youwere gonna fight me seriously.”

She couldn’t tell if Deku-kun scoffed or laughed with whatlittle breath he had.  Either way, heshook his head in disbelief while keeping his eyes on her.  She had to give him props for that;Aizawa-sensei always said to never take your eyes off your opponent.  “You didn’t even try to hit me withyour last jab!”

“Only because your kick was weak!”

“You’re just used to me using my quirk all the time!  That’s my normal kick without it!”

“What do you say we make things interesting, then?” askedOchako, an idea slipping into her mind. It was half-formed and reckless and if her guard were even halfway upagainst such thoughts, she would have shut it down immediately.

But he was giving her that look of his that lit a fire inher and told her anything was possible.  Whilethey had their sparring sessions, just the two of them, it did always feelas though anything were possible.  Asthough this—just the two of them working together, pushing each other, helpingeach other forward in life—was just right.

Like they were always meant to be on this equal playingfield.

Deku-kun raised an eyebrow, a grin on his face despite hisearlier petulance.  As shy as she knew hecould be, she also knew he couldn’t really back down from a challenge.  Especially not one thrown in the middle of asparring session.

“Interesting how?”

Bingo.

“We can use our quirks. First one to throw the other halfway across the gym gets a prize.”  She smiled and tilted her head innocentlydespite knowing that he wouldn’t even try to back down from a challenge.  She knew he enjoyed it when they mixed uptheir hand-to-hand combat training sessions a little bit.  Sometimes they used quirks, sometimes they addedtime limits, sometimes they even tried to fight without a certain limb.  Those were interesting sessions.  However…

“What’s the prize?” asked Deku-kun.  Ochako smiled, her almost fully-formed ideamaking her equal parts nervous and excited. That was the new element. The fun.  The surprise.

“I’ll tell you my wish when I win, okay?”

A strange look passed over his face briefly before the farmore familiar expression of a challenge accepted took hold.  He immediately held out his hand, his eyesset.  “I want to hear it even if youdon’t.”

Ochako pursed her lips and looked down at his hand.  Would she tell him if she lost?  She didn’t know.  She hadn’t exactly thought that far…

Still, she thought as she turned herattention back to his face before her. His eyes were tight and she could tell he was waiting on her answer.  She grinned and slapped her hand in his,being sure not to activate her quirk.

“It’s not like I’m going out to lose,” laughed the girl asshe shook his hand, being sure to make her expression as free and lightheartedas possible to avoid suspicion.

If she had kept her eyes open, she might have noticed theexpression that passed over his face at her evasive action.  But by the time she met his gaze head-on, itwas almost gone.

Warmed up from their earlier set, the two released oneanother and backed up, each settling into a stance where they could breathe andobserve the other.  The plan began tofade into the obscurity of her mind, her nerves slowly being steeled by her now-years’worth of training.  Like the steadytrickle of a creek, the fundamentals of fighting eased to the forefront of hermind.

‘Wait,’ she could remember Gunhead say duringher first internship.  ‘Let youropponent make the first move, but never let them make the last.’

So she did.  And sheknew he knew she would.  It was part ofhow these matches began.  She knew thatwhenever she made the first move, he almost always won.  So she would wait.  For as long as she needed to.  She would let Deku-kun’s own training kickin.  Let him make the first move.

And, after a few moments more, he didn’t disappoint.

A crackle of green energy ran through his legs, and she knewshe only had a moment to gauge and react. While her friend had almost too many strategies to count, she had a fewof his moves down to a science.

Sometimes he went straight for the kick.  He often did this when he was overconfident,cocky, stressed, or tired.  It happenedless often than one would think, especially as the years went along and hebecame a more balanced person and hero.

Sometimes he would go for a feint and duck around her toslip past her guard.  This was usuallypart of some bigger strategy that involved too many steps for her to decentlyplan for and reserved for fights he intended to draw out for as long aspossible.

This time, he jumped. Her brow furrowed as she ran to thespot he had just occupied, knowing that he almost never came down to exactlywhere he’d jumped from.  Sure enough, histrajectory had him zipping all over the place, just like he’d learned during hisfirst internship.  His first true movewith Full Cowling.

And the most predictable.

Deku often went for his opponent’s back with this move, soher own personal counter was to expose it for a moment.  Oftentimes he caught onto her ruse, leavingher to try it a couple times more in a few different ways before he tried adifferent strategy or, seldomly, took the bait.

The instant her shoulders were squared against his position,however, he leapt at her.

Ochako had but a moment to pivot on her foot, her fingerspoised and at the ready.  She grabbed ontohis outstretched arms and activated her quirk instantly.  Leaving no time for him to gain his bearings,she continued her swing until she had enough momentum to throw him into therafters of the gym.  The sound of hiscrash would have sounded like victory in her ears on any other day.  Any other day, she would have released herquirk’s effects as soon as she’d confirmed her win.

But not today.  Todayshe was confused.

She rested on her haunches for a moment before jumping ashigh as she could, resting her five fingers on her stomach to help her reachthe ceiling where he lay midair, waiting for her to let him down.  She saw his eyes widen for a moment beforeunderstanding and then reaching out to grab one of the nearby rafters.  Once he had it, he reached his other arm outfor her to take.  She clasped onto itwith ease and he pulled her to the wooden beam in the air, where she releasedthe both of them, and they both landed squarely on the rafter.

“I have to say, Deku-kun,” stated Ochako, stubbornly facingaway from him.  “I did not expectyou to throw that match so quickly.  Orat all.”

She could feel her friend wince beside her, and she knewthat she’d hit the mark on the head.  He’dthrown the fight.  It happened too quickly,and his moves had been too obvious to her when he usually planned for herfamiliarity with his tactics.  

The real question, though, was why.

She sighed.  Herresolve not to look at him and his big eyes was crumbling.  She needed to know what he was thinking—becauseshe knew that he wouldn’t ever disrespect her like that onpurpose—and one of the best ways to know anything that was going on in thatmind of his was to look at him.

She just…also didn’t want to see if those eyes were holdingany sadness or guilt.  He sometimes gotlike that when he got caught trying to do something nice in the wrong way.  And if this were like any of those othertimes, then his mind was already going at a kilometer a moment trying to thinkof how to make everything better.

And that…that was something he’d struggle with if he didn’tget a helping hand.

She gently swayed to the side, her shoulder knocking againsthis bicep. Where the height difference came from, she had no idea, but it wastempting her to just lean over that much further and rest her head on his arm.

Instead, she took a deep breath and focused on the matter athand.  “Talk to me,” she whispered, stillforcing herself to not look at his eyes lest she be trapped there for a while.  “What happened?”

It took him a moment to catch up to her words, but theinstant he did was obvious.  His armunderneath hers stiffened and then relaxed. He began to fidget, but the words followed pretty soon after.

“I’m sorry, Uraraka-san, I didn’t mean to even though thatdoesn’t excuse the fact that I did.  Igot distracted and the next thing I knew I wasn’t thinking even though I shouldhave been because one moment of distraction and I end up in the rafters andhonestly that could have ended up a lot worse if you didn’t realize that I wasout of it—but I really should have been paying attention anyways because you’rehard to beat even when I do pay attention.  I just didn’t know there was anything you’dwant bad enough to actually say that you wanted it because you don’treally say that you want anything very often even though I kind of wishyou did because it’s really hard to get you anything when I want to and thathappens a lot and I guess I just got carried away by thinking of what you couldpossibly wish for and now I think I ruined it because I didn’t give it my allso it might feel a bit shallow to you to get a prize that you didn’t earnbecause you can be stubborn that way, not that it’s a bad thing! I mean, we canprobably have a rematch if you want and I promise I’ll be serious this timeand—”

“Deku-kun.  Breathe.”

The boy beside her stuttered to a stop, and while she felt alittle bad for interrupting him, she felt like he’d said enough for her to getthe picture.  “You got distracted becauseI said I had a wish?”

“Um, yes?”

She chanced a look at him and—oh crap, the boy was trying tokill her.  Actively trying to killher.

Mom, dad, you raised a good daughter.  A strong daughter.  A daughter that has lasted eighteen years ofher life as a strong, independent individual with wonderful prospects ofbecoming a successful hero!  Alas, shehas been slain by the far-too-earnest, heartfelt, and guilty look of MidoriyaIzuku.  I love you very much, remember meas I was.

Ochako allowed herself a brief moment of dramatics before anchoringherself back to the present.  When theplan had first entered her mind in its half-formed glory, she hadn’t imagined thisto be the result.  Still, everythingabout his reaction was just so sweet and unexpected that she couldn’t help butsmile and shake her head.

“I didn’t think anything could distract you from achallenge, Deku-kun,” she admitted freely. From their place up in the rafters, she could see the empty gym beforethem.  The floor looked so far away, yetshe felt safe.  She felt a burden liftfrom her chest knowing that her best friend hadn’t intentionally thrown thefight, and she began to swing her legs back and forth, suddenly feeling playful.  “You’re usually so focused.  Maybe I should tell you more of my wishes ifit’ll mean more wins.  Or what if we gotthe whole class to talk about what they wished for?  How distracted would you be then?”

She grinned in his direction, a signal from her to him thatshe was only joking.  Against villains,she would use whatever weapon she had in her arsenal to take them down.  Brawling, underhanded techniques, quirks,distractions, you name it.  Against herbest friend, though, there were boundaries. Limits.  A code of honor.  She would never use that kind of weaknessagainst him in battle.

Deku-kun’s answering chuckle was an analytical one.  That had started coming out of him intheir second year.  She always thought itwas such an interesting sound, and she liked hearing it whenever he soundedthat particular laugh.  She hadn’tever thought that it was possible to be both amused and honestly analytical,but he always seemed to surprise her in the best of ways.

“I don’t think that would work as well as you’re thinking,”admitted he.

“Why not?” asked Ochako, painting a mental picture beforeher eyes.  She could already see thebanner and their classmates talking, laughing, and arguing beneath it about allthe things they could possibly wish for. “‘The Wishes of Class 3-A!’  Has anice ring to it, right?  Tsu-chan wouldprobably wish for a waterside agency, Momo-chan might want a more practicalhero outfit, oh-what do you think Iida-kun would want?  I can’t tell with him sometimes…”

Their best friend really was an enigma at times.  He was very honest and gave great respect to therules, but she wondered if he had any wishes for himself.  Upgraded rockets, he could take care of.  Well, being the class mom he was, she figuredhe might just wish for everyone to settle—

A soft, feather-light touch brushed the top of herhand.  Blinking, Ochako looked down tosee that Deku-kun had moved his calloused pinkie to the top of her hand, noteven putting any pressure behind the digit. The rest of his hand hovered hesitantly, looking as though it couldn’tdecide whether to move away or lay atop her own.

The gesture, simple as it was and subtle as it was, pinkedher cheeks.  She didn’t know why.  It wasn’t like they hadn’t touchedbefore.  Heck, her arm was against his atthat moment!  But…  but he reached out to her.

Despite herself, the gesture made her feel special.  Warm.

It’s probably nothing, she attempted to tell herselfin an effort to keep her heart rate level. It’s probably nothing.  Don’tmake it weird.

“I can understand if you don’t want to tell me since Ididn’t give you a proper fight,” said Deku-kun, unintentionally slicingstraight through her momentary lapse of rationality.  “But I really do want to hear what you werewishing for as a prize.”

Ah.

The crux of the issue.

There it was.

The impromptu, half-baked, completely reckless,wholeheartedly foolhardy plan of all plans to confess to Deku-kun if she couldbeat him in a match.  To put her nose tothe grindstone and work even harder to become a Pro-Hero if she couldn’t.  A coin flip of fate that would have taken thehard part of actually deciding to tell him out of her hands that hadsomehow landed on both heads and tails at once.

A half-and-half decision?

An all-and-nothing-at-once result?

Schrödinger’s coin?

Ah.

She was stalling.

And he was sitting beside her, waiting.  Politely and patiently giving her back theopportunity to decide on her own.

She looked upwards at his face and just knew that ifshe decided to demand a real fight, he would respect it by fighting her witheverything he had.  She would fight backwith all her strength.  The decision wouldreturn to the hands of fate.  She knewthat if she made up a wish right then and there, he would respect whateverflimsy excuse of a wish she came up with. He wouldn’t pressure her at all to tell him what was on her heart; itwas well and truly her decision.

And… looking at his face, knowing how good he was andhow kind he was… made her decision much easier.

“I wished to have the courage to tell you that I loveyou.”  

Ochako didn’t look away from him as her words washed overhim, turning him stiff as a board.  Coldtendrils of fear slowly crept up the back of her neck, whispering stingingthoughts of icy rejection in her ear. “Y-you don’t have to answer r-ight away, I just wanted the chance totell you—you don’t have to like me back romantically, I just—”

“Wh—at?”

“I mean, like I said, you don’t have to feel pressured oneway or the other—I mean, I’d like an answer before we graduate, but youdon’t have to give one right now I just wanted to tell you and—Deku-kun!”

Ochako slapped her hand across her friend’s leg, activatingher quirk before gravity could claim him. Her stomach lurched, but she could contain the queasy feeling.  Especially when she knew her friend was safeon the rafter once more.  She releasedhim swiftly and turned away to take a few steadying breaths.

Who knew confessing could be so stressful?

“S-sorry!”

Ochako shook her head as she continued to just breathe,attempting to get her nerves and her quirk’s reaction back under control.  She had built up a tolerance to herquirk’s effects on her body over the years, but apparently emotional stresshelped knock her threshold back down to what she might have been able toaccomplish when she was five.

Who knew?

She felt his approach a moment before she felt hishand.  He hesitated only a moment beforehe rested his calloused fingers on top of her back and began rubbing circlesinto it.  He always did this for her whenhe thought she was overworked or overstressed or had used her quirk toomuch.  She’d told him once that it helpedher and reminded her of home.  Shesmiled.  Even though he was probablyfeeling really embarrassed right now, he was still reaching out to help her.

He really was a wonderful person.

“I’m not sorry for telling you, but I am sorry it almostknocked you out of the rafters.”  Ochakoshot a weak grin at him, trying to assure him that all was well despite theunease in her gut.  But…she did feellighter.  Like she hadn’t been aware of aburden that she’d been carrying for a while before now.  She couldn’t bring herself to regret finallysaying it.  Still…  “Probably should have waited until we wereboth safely on the ground to say anything.”

“I…” Deku-kun seemed, for once, to flounder for words.  His face was red—and why wouldn’t it be?  He’d just been confessed to, forcrying out loud!—but his eyes wouldn’t leave her.  As though she were some sort of figment ofhis imagination that would be spirited away should he even blink.  He gulped. Made a cute squeaking sound.  “Idon’t mind.”

Her thoughts froze. He…didn’t?  But…  “You nearly fell off the rafters in shock!”

“You surprised me!”

“You almost died!”

“I could have caught myself!”

“You looked like a deer in the headlights!”

“I would have!”

“I don’t think so!”

“Say it again, I’ll prove it!”

“B-but—” Ochako floundered for an excuse to not have to sayit again.  The tendrils of rejection had loosenedtheir hold, but she didn’t want to give them any room to come back.  “You wouldn’t be surprised this time!”

“Pretty sure I would be.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming,” stated Deku-kunconfidently.  Ochako’s eyebrows rose andshe lost her breath.  “And I’m alwayssurprised every time when I’m dreaming.”

Always surprised…

Every time…

Dreaming…

The pieces floated before Ochako’s eyes, but her shockedmind couldn’t fit the pieces together.  Desperately,she grabbed onto the pieces that did make sense.

“I just threw you into the rafters.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got splinters from it.”

“Not really.”

“Bruises?”

Deku-kun shrugged in a way that seemed almost toowhat-can-you-do for the topic at hand, in Ochako’s opinion.  “I almost always have bruises.”

“Even when you dream?”

“Probably.”

“What do you mean ‘probably’?”

“I mean, I usually don’t remember the parts of my dreamsthat hurt.”

“Oh, so you’ll just forget this entire thing ever happened,then?”

“Nope.  I just tend toforget the parts that hurt,” said Deku-kun, his confidence somehow neverwavering.  His eyes held that convictionthat she knew so well, and she could feel herself beginning to believe thatmaybe this wasn’t the worst idea she’d ever had after all.  Somehow, her heart fluttered with hope.  “I love hearing you say that.  I love being able to tell you that I loveyou, too.  Even if it makes it a littlehard to say hello to you in the morning.”

Nope.  Her heartwasn’t just fluttering anymore.  It was thundering.  It was a loud, vibrant, jig in herchest that beat the black tendrils away from her neck and ears.  She was sure he could somehow feel the sheer strengthof her joyful heart through the fingers he had replaced on her back after hisnear-fall.

“C-can you say that again?” she asked.

Bemused and yet somehow so affectionate that she thought shemight be able to actually internally combust and die right thereon the spot, he obliged her.

“I said I love you, Ochako.”

Eventually, she would have to convince him that he wasn’t dreaming.  Eventually, they would both be blushing,stuttering messes filled with apologies and reassurances from both sides aboutoverstepping boundaries and seeking permission for names and telling each otherthose three beautiful words.  Eventually,they would both decide together that they could date each other while preparingfor their respective futures.  Eventually,life would move forward for the two of them.

However, in that moment, all Ochako could do was enjoy thewarmth that blossomed in her chest and express the overwhelming feeling in asmile that she might later recall as completely dopey and yet one hundredpercent worth it.

So, so worth it.

[itsakpopalypse]

Lou/Kim Hosung Astrology: How He Loves

OML he’s so precious i wanna squish his cheekies

As always 18+ under the cut

“omg i loved your astrology ask - romantic breakdown with Ayno so much! Can I get one for Lou, please?😊” - @randomkpopfiction

A/N I'm so happy to hear you’ve been enjoying my posts ! Here you go , I hope that you like it !!

Let’s talk tall boi

okay so his big 3 by our best estimation is Aries Rising, Sagittarius sun and Taurus moon, 2 fire and an earth

His chart lean is pretty evenly split between fire and earth, with one more earth and one air. no water whatsoever

that’s notable because water is the emotional element, so that suggests he isn’t prone to big emotional driven actions

we will get into that more as we go 

it’s just something that sets the tone of his chart

also his perfect split between mutable and cardinal suggests he can take the lead or be incredibly adaptable

so he actually seems very chill just looking at those facts 

for the romance-y stuff lessgo

Aries are confident go-getters, so he will seem pretty sure of himself in all situations

whatever he does he puts his WHOLE DAMN ASS INTO IT

we do not half ass anything in this house we whole ass it

can be a little brash, but his moon will help stop that from being too prominent since Taurus is basically the slowest moving most careful earth sign. 

since Aries is a cardinal sign though, he may seem a little intense and take charge in situations where others don’t seem to have their stuff together

Sun in Sagittarius, he is adventurous, lacks fear, and longs for intellectual insights, like he will ask you so many questions and fire back anything he thinks fits his own life

is really interesting to converse with

probably really laid back but still willing to talk to anyone

the kind of person who could make friends anywhere and with anyone

probably super curious and less cautious than he should be 

Taurus moon is affectionate but a bit shy and likes things to be very familiar

they are generally uncomfortable with change so his sun is a great balance to push him into more outgoing settings and to try new things

even if his moon will be a little filled with butterflies 

aw im soft

since your moons is the depth of your feelings he is steadfast and intentional

slow moving but once he has chosen for himself it is his focus

he will be a steady and reliable partner, but still be fun and spontaneous since his sun is so fiery. 

honestly looking through this chart I’m like he would be anyone's coolest best friend and just vibe in the most interesting way what a neat person?? where do i get one ???

let’s translate these and his other signs into a relationship starting with 

FLUFF

listen Sagittarius is the peter pan right? 

he doesn't WANNA grow up 

he wants to experience life and DO THINGS

but his Taurus moon will probably make him shy away even though his heart is BURSTING OKAY

Taurus is also one of the more artistic minded and sensual signs 

so he is creative and romantic and probably loves a cheesy rom com with cuddles

you may have to encourage his courageous side when emotions hit but you may have to chill him out where danger is involved

since his Mercury is Capricorn which is the cardinal of earth he will be really smart about his communication

so he will think things out well and be incredibly clever and quick witted

it suggests his humor is a bit sarcastic and savage and honestly 

like i consider Cap the most ‘millennial’ humor 

as in sarcasm and self deprecation 

but since that Aries stands proud he will probably still simultaneously know he’s pretty fantastic

like he knows he is awesome but also judges himself really hard probably

Venus in Sagittarius so this is interesting

of the fire signs it’s kind of more reserved romantically

Has REALLY high standards when it comes to what he wants in a relationship and intends for them to be met

not like how you look or sound or whatever

but will not tolerate disrespect of degradation on either side

has a lot of pride in keeping his relationships solid and communicative

an enthusiastic speaker, once he has set you as a comfortable person to communicate with he will lean into that and probably has a zillion incredibly interesting things he has pondered over about life and love that he wants to have deep conversations about

he would be the coolest to have talks about really relative things

might need some pushing if you want to discuss emotions 

that Taurus moon will win out only if you nourish and validate his feelings

so if you meet and he likes you somewhere a long the line, it will be a push and pull between Sagittarius wanting to love everyone and Taurus wanting to be sure of someone

the philosopher mind of a Sagittarius will draw him to you platonically and if you are affectionate, steady and warm his Taurus will basically flop down like a huge dog and beg for pats-metaphorically

His venus suggests that he would love to entice you with his wit, his spontaneity and his laughs,

He knows he is charming and full of life and he will use it against you 

and probably tease the ever living shit out of you for it

say he is cracking jokes or being adorable and you stare at him fondly, or giggle at a joke

he will be playful back

expect him to call you out

he is going to say something like “Oh I know I am beautiful but you’ll wear my face out staring like that.” with a wink

honestly a little shit sometimes wtf

doesn’t get jealous and doesn’t tolerate jealousy

so if you start as friends it will be this seamless fit into his friend group and he won’t even care if Ziu lays all over you or whatever

it won’t even seem abnormal to him even if he likes you

in fact he will probably just join the cuddle huddle or make sarcastic jokes about it

Sagittarius venus love fun and new experiences but they are not about to enjoy a shallow relationship

expect him to solidify boundaries and ask you out officially pretty quickly 

They are not a flighty sign even though they are a bit in the clouds sometimes 

the love an intense and passionate love and will not settle for less

Get you those healthy boundaries Lou

so i imagine as adventurous but thoughtful as his blend of signs is, especially with a Virgo Mars

he is going to think of the most interesting and sincere way to ask you out

maybe plan a day trip somewhere special

idk a hike or the beach or something 

and after he’s spent the entire day building memories with you 

he will ask you if you want to keep making these memories

maybe show you a little album on his phone of the selfies he’s taken with you for the last few months

wow soft and cute i love it 

and if you say yes he is going to start by being like oh yeah okay cool

then he will walk a few steps away and turn his back and start freaking out about how happy he is

a bouncy giggle mess over there and you’re like.... are you okay

he’s like.... *cough* yes I am FINE

sure you are

his north nodes is Libra so he is likely to need you around as he accomplishes goals

basically he wants to experience life with you and not separate from you and will work to make sure those goals align with each other

probably neither against nor particularly for public displays of affection

it will matter most to him that you are there with him, and if you want to add affection into it he won’t be opposed

but expect snark

“If you need to hold on to me you can.”

I also see him as the type to fall asleep on you during movies and really relish if he wakes up still in your arms

really low key affection is his thing

probably writes i love you on your leg with his finger when you are in the car or around people but he doesn’t wanna shout it out

likes to put his chin on your head and kiss the top of your head so gently

gently cups the side of your face and stares into your eyes all dreamy 

HAND KISSES

so cute I’m soft 

soft hours are closing

18+  below the cut

must he do this I’m scared

WOOOP 

spicy talk 

INTENSE

playful but intesnse

Sagittarius are exploratory signs  so that will probably make it into the bedroom ngl

like they like new experiences

so he is going to be learning things and sitting you down to talk about hard yes’s and no’s

we stan healthy communcation

maybe a little switchy?

I think he prefers to be in charge of your pleasure but I think he would be down to try laying back and letting you take the reins

to be honest he seems like he would really be into blindfolding ?

like blindfold him and tell him he has to make you cum but he has to do it with just his hands

jfc those hands i think you’ll be okay

lives for excitement and trust in a relationship

it has to go both ways, the Taurus moon demands it

he wants you to trust him with your whole being and he will give that in return

he wants you to be greedy with your own pleasure

“Touch yourself for me baby, I wanna see you”

looks at you like a work of art he wants to paint with his hands and tongue and cum

probably nasty but in the absolute most intimate way

hey you know what he sounds like saying give me more already I expect that’s what you hear after your third orgasm sorry I don’t make the rules

with a Virgo mars (his actions) mixed with so much Sagittarius expect him to treat you like his own personal experiment

really wants you to be as vocal about it as he is 

communicate what you like and don’t

wants you to ride him so he can watch you and comment on how beautiful you are

“you want me to fuck you hard you have to earn it.”

teasing little shit i stg

the Taurus makes me think he is kind of really intimate about it all

the kind of guy who might spank you , but will massage it gently after, 

holds onto the back of your neck and pulls you into his thrusts 

probably furrows his brow in concentration

and he has this like.. excitable side with all this fire energy that makes me feel like he gets really energetic about the whole ordeal

like he is SO AMAZED you are letting him touch you that he just kinda 

implodes

probably makes the softest little groans when you run your nails down his chest

wants to be marked in places no one else can see

doesn’t think of it as ownership or “marking” in  a traditional way

thinks of it as little reminders on his skin for only you two to know about 

that’s kinda beautiful tbh 

aftercare is probably haphazard but it will involve a lot of touching,

like none of his signs are particularly care-taker-ey 

but he will be sure you get lots of affection after more intense sessions so  you feel loved and protected

probably kisses your face all over and pulls you into an embrace

mumbles about your future together as you fall asleep 

it’s really cute aw

TWO MORE MEMBERS and both have been requested, expect them soon!

thank you for requesting and while I have a few more astrology posts and one request for a short story coming down the pipeline, I also have a oneshot I wrote on my own and am currently editing coming. Expect some stuff!!

Requests are open !

[pcygoldenchild]

Mr. and Mrs. Park

✨summary: You and your husband were both agents. Madly in love with each other and your jobs. But what would happen if you needed to face each other?

✨warnings: NSFW, violence, sexual intercourse, dirty talk (Nsfw in part two)

✨A/N: I’ve worked on this for sooo long. I restarted maybe 10 times because I just really wasn’t going my favorite movie justice. Based off of ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith’. ( Anon: chanyeol spy au? like him and reader are like mr and mrs. smith????) *not my gif*

You walked into the building. Your heels clicked on the marble floor as you walked through the lobby. It was half past 11pm and most the security and staff were just waiting to switch shifts. No one was really paying attention to the woman entering the elevator. You went up to the penthouse floor and entered. This building was Matt’s office. This penthouse was reserved for when he stayed here instead of going home to his annoying ass wife and kids. He hated his family; even went as far as to hire Chanyeol to kill them. He’s an evil little man.

“Are you in?” you jump as you hear Chanyeol’s voice through your earpiece.

“God, Yeol a warning next time.” you whisper back. You were entering the passcode to the main entrance making sure to stay quiet.

“Next time I’ll knock. Now, are you in?” he replied snarkly. You rolled your eyes and let out a deep breath.

“I’m entering now. Are you ready?” you said. Your hand pushed the door open a bit to look in before you entered. You just had to wait on his confirmation.

“Ready when you are.” he confirmed. And with that you walked in. You made sure not to slam the door or make too much noise. You knew he was up in his study but still wanted as much of an element of surprise as possible. Your heels were loud but you learned to walk on the base of your feet to avoid making so much noise. You walked directly to his study; you knew where it was since you’ve been here plenty of times.

“He’s talking to someone.” Chanyeol said in your earpiece. You could hear voices of another man with a much deeper tone than Matt’s high pitch.

“Any idea who it is?” you whispered.

“I have just as much of an idea as you. I’d say a body guard. There is no way the security let you just walk in there and not alert him. You are banned goods sweetheart.” he replied back. You rolled your eyes again and straightened up.

“Thanks for nothing Chanyeol.” you say before silently walking into the office. There was a sort of short hallway made by a bookshelf before it entered the main office. You stood there for a minute to try to see who Matt was talking to and what about. But all you could tell was that he was twice his size and not listening to a single thing Matt was saying. You took this time to step out into the main office.

“Matthew Barnes.” you said. He smiled without looking at you and shoo’d his hand at the man you are now sure is a guard. He turned to you and looked you up and down. You did the same to him and cocked and eyebrow at him.

“How should we do this young lady.” he said. You squinted your eyes at him as he stood up cracking his knuckles. He was the least intimidating person you’d ever seen and Matt was someone you knew. That said a lot.

“I don’t care. I’m not here for you.” you replied. You walked over to the side a bit giving him a chance to just leave before he did anything stupid. But the big tough guy just had to mock you.

“I know you think you’re a big shot, but you’re really nothing without your husband.” he laughed walking towards you. Asshole.

“You hear that? To think people don’t know I’m the one who made you as intolerable as you are. Marriage changes people. I get no credit.” you said to Chanyeol who was listening in the earpiece. You heard his sigh and the guard looked confused. But he didn’t have enough time to think on who you were talking to or what you were saying before you jabbed him in the throat directly on his adam’s apple. His loss of focus due to the sharp pain rendered him defenseless. He bent over and you kneed him in the head knocking him out rather easily.

“My husband taught me that move.” you smirked dusting your hands of the metaphorical dust he was. You were brought back to the matter of Matt when you were startled by his clapping.

“You two are the perfect pair. Ideally, I have not done you two justice. You two deserve to be much higher somewhere on an Island in Havana or something.” he laughed.

“I completely agree. But instead you want one of us dead. Seems odd, but then again you are one strange man.” you said walking past the unconscious guard. You noticed Matt move back a bit to beside the front of his desk.

“He’s armed. A pistol under his first draw in his desk. Cliche.” Chanyeol said in your ear. You looked at Matt’s hand reach for the edge of the desk then back up at him as he smiled at you.

“Hello Chanyeol. Nice to know you are still informed on all my hiding spots.” Matt said taking his hand away and folding his arms. He was caught but there was no way he was giving up that easy.

“You know, I know his hiding spots too. He was never very good at hiding to be honest. And I’m surprised he didn’t know of the alarm for intruders under my desk. Ask him now if he knows.” Matt said and right after you heard a lot of commotion on the other end. Static and groans came through as you waited for Chanyeol.

“Smart move Matt. Really suits you.” Chanyeol said before a loud groan came through. He was captured? Of all his years, that’s a first.

“What they do with him is up to you Mrs. Park. And you should think fast, time is of the essence.” Matt said sitting on his desk.

“What are my options?” you asked walking to the side to be a couple feet away but directly in front of him.

“Well, you could put a bullet through your pretty head. But they’d kill him anyway. Or you could let him get a very painfully slow death but I’d kill you here. Or you could try to kill me and give me a good exercise but we both know how that will end. Even if you do kill me, Mr. Park is as good as dead.” he smirked. But he was highly underestimating you and your husband.

You walked closer to him slowly, placing your hands in your pockets. You stood in front of him and leaned forward so your face was right in front of his.

“I never thought someone who worked so close to us would underestimate the most powerful people he knows.” you whispered. He didn’t look scared but you knew your words struck fear in his heart, because you were right.

“The most power resides in me, Mrs. Park.” he said before kicking your leg making you stumble. He took that distraction to pull you into a headlock ripping your earpiece out. Your struggle was mostly for show. Sure he could strangle you to death but if you were being honest, you’ve been prepared for it. Late nights with an angry Chanyeol meant frustration sex. Choking wasn’t something you were new to and you’ve had plenty of practice.

“You know, if I were a lucky guy and got to you first, I’d be a much better husband. I mean he sent you in here all alone to take me on. You may be a killer, but you’re weak. You did all this for what? Love? Well you two will die as star crossed lovers.” he said tightening his arm around your neck.

“Over my dead body or yours?” Chanyeol said as he stood in the doorway. Catching you both by surprise but mostly Matt. Because instead of ducking from the gun aimed at him or using you as a sheild he stood there and took a bullet to the arm. He fell after screaming out in pain letting you go. You stood up straight and brushed yourself off. You looked up and saw Chanyeol smirking at you.

“I think I go too easy on you. Although you’ve always been one to take a good choking.” he said coming up to you and rather aggressively kissing you. You grabbed his arms and felt the warmth of his blood stained shirt seep into your hands.

“I always say harder, but you get too scared you’ll hurt your little angel.” you smirk wiping your hands off on the front of his shirt. It wasn’t his blood, he was perfectly fine as expected. There wasn’t much he couldn’t escape from.

“What the fuck.” Matt groans out on the floor. He’s been scooting away towards the back door of his office.

“You’re not shot in the legs Matt. Quit being dramatic and get up.” you said taking the gun from Chanyeol and walking over to a crawling Matt. He heard the gun cock and stilled before turning around to face you.

“You’d kill me while I’m down? That’s very shallow.” he said. Shallow.

“I don’t recall caring.” you said as you shot him in the leg. He let out such a sad shriek. It made you feel a little bad but that lasted only a second before another shot went through his chest. Not from you.

“He was talking way too much.” Chanyeol said before he pulled you back into him ripping your shirt off your body. You did the same to him as you two attacked each other’s lips. Next to go were the pants as you two walked back to the couch against the window. By the time you reached the couch, you two were naked and nearly at each other’s skin.

“Near death and all I could think about was fucking you again.” Chanyeol said pulling your legs to straddle him. You hovered over his hard cock as his fingers went to your core. He rubbed up and down your folds and massaged your clit vigorously.

“If I can’t have this pussy, no one can.” he said as you shook over him and his fingers. You yanked his hand away. He was making you get too close to cumming and you needed more than his fingers.

“So territorial for someone who almost just died.” you groaned out as you lined him up to your hole. Your breath hitches when his hands went to your hips and smacked your ass.

“What’s mine is mine no matter where I am. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part.” he said before thrusting up into you. He literally fucked you off balance and made you lean to the side pushing the lamp off the side table and crashing on to the floor. His thrust were fast and needy. You were grabbing everywhere to try and balance yourself so you could gain control but he wasn’t letting up.

“Fuck Chanyeol!” you screamed out as he once again slapped your ass as his cock hit the deepest pit inside you.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” he said grabbing your hips tighter. You started to ride him more once the feeling made you chase your own high. His mouth found place along your stomach and chest as you bounced up and down.

“What would you do without me Mr. Park?” you breathed out. Your hands grabbed his hair and made him look up at you. He smirked and brought one hand to rub your clit fast and hard. His breathing was matched with yours. Your grips on each other enough to puncture your skin. You were both cumming. You shook on top of him as he slowed his thrusts down but not his fingers. You screamed out leaning back as your visions started to black. Then it stopped.

He pulled you flush against his chest as he was still inside you.

“I wouldn’t have anyone to fuck in front of two dead people Mrs. Park.” he whispered. You laughed breathlessly.

“He’s not dead Mr. Park. So I suggest we get going before he comes to his senses and see his dead boss and us fucking.” you said sitting up. He smiled and looked over at the guard.

“That’s sounds like fun.” he said.

[aeris-blue]

Requests, you say? How about Gaster teaching Grillby how to ice skate? That'd be cute ^^ (Whether drabble or drawing, up to you)

Oh my, this is just adorable! Thanks!

“This is a terrible idea,” his glow danced along the blade of the skate he was attempting to tie. His fingers fumbled with the laces as his nerves got the best of him. Gaster sat on the slightly wet cushioned mat and tugged the strings tight enough he could feel the rivets. Of all the odd places Gaster had drug him over the last several months he didn’t think the monster could surprise him anymore but an ice skating rink was not anything he had anticipated.

As odd as it was for the gangly, moderately uncoordinated, skeleton to be so enthusiastic for an activity like this he found it hard to latch onto his energy. The way the humans had stared at him as he’d paid for entry, the way they were still staring, was putting hints of green in his flame that tainted the purity of the white skate.

‘It will be fine,’ Gaster assured him with that cockeyed way of his. At least he was a little on edge too: his good eyelight would flick to someone whispering before focusing on him again. ‘You’re a very talented swordsman and an elegant dancer, this is just combining those things.’

Grillby stared dumbly at his partner the swooshing sound of those already in the rink helped punctuate his deadpan: “Gaster, they are nothing at all the same.”

‘You haven’t even tried it yet,’ he braced his hand against Grillby’s knee and rose with a tremendous wobble to his feet. ‘And at least here there isn’t a giant body of water underneath us.’

Grillby swallowed in fear of the thought, the sound of ice cracking splintered through his mind settling underneath the top layer of his flames. Gaster stepped heavy footed over to the entrance, an eager expression painted on his face.

His breath coiled hot from his mouth only to fog up his glasses in the strange mismatched temperature that air conditioning and heaters in the same area created. With another hefty sigh he pulled his glasses away to clean them against the light jacket he wore over his usual attire. Once they were secured properly he rocked forward off of the wooden bench. His ankles gave a dangerous wobble but he realized that’s why the laces needed to be so tight.

If walking was this difficult he was increasingly nervous what skating was going to be like.

Gaster stepped onto the ice then turned a tight circle to face him, ‘Now the first thing--’ His skates clicked together and he was suddenly jerked to the ground landing on the top of his femur with a wince.

Grillby’s soul stuttered, “Are you okay?” He reached down ready to take the skeleton away from this ridiculous idea and do something in normal shoes, on normal ground but his assistance was batted away.

‘That’s normal.’

“Well excuse me if I wanna skip the first step then,” he crackled despite himself.

A puff of warm air hovered lazily around Gaster’s teeth in a haughty huff, ‘This is good though. I can show you how to get up! Watch closely.’ He curled his knees up to his chest then lifted his shoulders before the rest of him followed suit, his skates threatened to betray him but he righted himself fully.

Gaster stuck his hands out in a sarcastic jazz hands before he tucked them in his pockets to warm them back up. It didn’t seem to take long as next thing Grillby knew the hands were around his and gently pressing him towards the ice. With a crooked step Grillby found his dominant foot against the ice and a mere second later so was his other foot.

Alright, he did it. Good. His grip on Gaster’s hands was way more intense then he had intended and the poor monster was trying very hard to disguise his discomfort.

That was his cue to let go. Unfurl his fingers. Maybe awkwardly apologize? But no. He was still clinging to Gaster’s hands as if they were the only thing keeping him upright. Luckily Gaster didn’t seem to mind.

A pair of hand bullets appeared between them, ‘Now the trick to this is keeping your wait on the pads of your feet and your knees bent.’

“Like dodging,” he muttered repositioning himself.

‘Sort of,’ Gaster hummed while the bullets signed.

Grillby did his best to follow instructions, but he didn’t exactly feel graceful as he stomped his feet behind Gaster as they moved hand in hand around the rink. Each step was uncertain but he was growing less paranoid as they made their laps taking comfort in the other monster’s presence.

Eventually he built up the confidence to bend his knees the way Gaster did, to gently push of the ice and move forward. It wasn’t pretty by any means but he was able to loosen his death grip on the boney fingers he held.

The sound of the blades against the ice was soft, precise, timed in a way that could be its’ own music. Swish. Swish. His flames began to in an imitation of the song stoking into their usual oranges. He could almost--

He shut his eyes lightly, only focusing on the sound of shredding ice: back and forth. Maybe, maybe this was fun, well, enjoyable at least. Gaster repositioned his grip on Grillby’s hand and squeezed lightly as a display of comfort. The cool of the ice rushing to greet him wasn’t enough to put a chill in his core or make him feel stiff, the awkward feeling of the skates was almost completely gone when you were hovering inches from the ice, it was all so different but not in a bad way.

He opened his eyes confused not to meet the thin black clad figure that had been leading him. That didn’t make sense he was holding-- Grillby watched as the hand bullet dissipated upon being released. His flames snapped as he slid into the wall to stop. A few of the children around the rink chuckled at the sight but he didn’t know how else to do it.

With his features fixed in a playful scowl he turned around to glare daggers at Gaster who was waving with a mischievous grin. “Gaster!” He bellowed across the rink.

The skeleton’s shoulders jerked up in a display of shock before he took off in the opposite direction. Grillby’s grip on the wall tightened indecisively, he was enjoying himself more than he thought he would but he still lacked anything resembling skill or grace.

Gaster mocked him from across the room actually managing some simple leaps and spins as he swayed lazily from side to side making a point to yawn as wide as he could muster. Fine. Fine. He let go of the wall and charged like a bullet fired from a pistol.

The other monster had been so shocked, so completely dumbfounded by the sudden movement, that he’d nearly forgotten he needed to get out of the way. At the last moment he hopped to the side leaving Grillby to smack once again into the barricade around the rink. ‘Goodness you can be fast if you want to,’ Gaster mused before he skirted teasingly away.

Grillby took a breath and, in much more of a controlled manner, skated after him. They danced an awkward dance that left Gaster always out of his reach, just enough to give him hope before the fabric would sway away from his fingertips.

He’d reach further and further out trying desperately to grab anything he could only to just barely miss. It would be frustrating if it wasn’t for that skeletal smile, that soft hiccup of grinding mechanical noises that came with his laughter, or even just the sight of him moving in such a fluid movement.

Gaster was usually so shallow and reserved in his steps; allowing only his hands to flutter about however they desired. Here he was extending his arms in crisp clean movements, his legs were making strong lines as he suddenly changed direction. It was so different than his usual self that always stepped on his toes when they danced or cursed at his limbs when he had to get in the truck. Gaster always glowed so bright, he was smart, and cunning, but graceful wasn’t a word he thought of until seeing him like this.

Finally, Grillby reached out and snagged the monster’s hand as he attempted to perform a tight spiral to dodge. Somewhere between Grillby’s over extended arm and Gaster’s already started momentum he found himself nearly tossed to the ground in good company sliding on his back across the ice still firmly grasping Gaster’s hand.

They laid there on the ice a bit dazed as they wondered how they got there before Gaster started to laugh, and without any attempt to hold back. The people that skated around them gave them odd looks as Gaster tried, and failed, to contain his laugh but they didn’t matter. Grillby squeezed his hand tight and laughed right along with him until the skater in charge of safety informed them they needed to get up.

‘Do you remember how?’ Gaster asked with shaky hands as he breathed out the last of his laugh.

“It’s the first thing right?”

[o-dasaku]

i was wondering if you could explain the descriptions on your fgc posts and how they relate to the characters? i'm v interested

oooo for sure

don’t you (forget about me) > don’t you try and pretend, it’s my feeling we’ll win in the end. 

this one’s kind of obvious, the back half of the lyric is my brot3 tag for blamtina - they’re altogether hopeful kids that go through some (a lot of) shitty times. they’ll come out on top in the end, they’re sure of it.

here comes the sun >  here comes the sun and i say, it’s all right.

it’s a metaphor!!!!!!!! dani’s the sun, you fools!!!!!!!!!!! i don’t want to say that santana spent all of s4 hung up on brittany, but santana spent all of s4 hung up on brittany. i have no doubt she hooked up with her fair share of beautiful ladies, but she definitely didn’t date - i don’t think it’s because she was waiting for brittany to dump sam (okay she was, but not so they could be together again), i think she genuinely just didn’t feel super comfortable with it - she never really dated brittany, they were best friends and then they were girlfriends too and santana doesn’t want to leap into that minefield for the first time with just anybody.

enter: daniella perea, struggling musician who picks up a job at spotlight to help pay the bills and gets along with everybody, which is fucking rare because 90% of that diner’s staff are broadway divas in waiting (and santana) so people take notice and santana doesn’t want to like her, but she does. she really does.

so moving on from britt is hard and it’s scary, but it’s alright. she has dani. they’ll figure it out.

creep > i want a perfect body, i want a perfect soul.

i almost picked like twenty different lyrics here because it’s a Very Them song, but i feel like this speaks very well to their characters: this lyric is rachel in a nutshell, she doesn’t just want to the best, she wants to be perfect. it speaks to brody because it’s the antithesis to him: he doesn’t care to be perfect, he just wants to be himself (who, lucky him, happens to be very talented).

sidenote: i think brochel really work on that level, rachel challenges brody to want to be better while brody can remind rachel that being less than perfect is perfectly okay. i’m still sad about how they treated him.

never can say goodbye > though i try and try to hide my feelings, they always seem to show.

listen, i hate to draw riverdale/glee comparisons, but quinn’s veronica lodge. you want fire, cheryl bombshell? sorry, but my speciality’s ice. quinn wants to be cold, wants to be this untouchable ice queen but-

she just isn’t (just like veronica, funnily enough). quinn fabray feels so much and isn’t that just the worst? i don’t think quinn wears her heart on her sleeve the way so many characters on this show do, but she feels things very strongly, much to her own annoyance. whether or not the world sees isn’t really up to her either, as much as she wishes it was.

(on the riverglee comparisons: santana is cheryl, puck is reggie and sam is archie. i know people cast finn as archie but ehhhh. i don’t have anything super solid on anyone else, but rachel is probably betty and kurt is probably kevin (i’m not saying that because they’re both gay, more “i exist solely to prop up betty/rachel when needed”). jbi is evelyn from the farm and i will hear No Arguments on that.)

being alive > i’ll always be there as frightened as you to help us survive being alive.

i’ll be honest, there is an infinitely more kurt line in this song (someone to crowd you with love/someone to force you to care/someone to make you come through) but um, this is literally one of my top 3 musical theatre songs and that lyric is one of my absolute favorite lyrics ever, musicals or otherwise. 

but this line does relate to kurt (and blaine, i guess- this song is clearly meant to implicate him- for the first time, i really know what it means) well enough. i know there’s a fuckton of kurt and death meta but i don’t claim to know him well enough to make sense of any of it so we’ll look at this very shallowly - i think kurt experiences life quite differently to the normal person, and we can owe that to his mother’s death or the long term bullying or whatever tickles your pickle, but he does seem a little... removed, i think. i don’t think he’s afraid to be alive, but i do think he has a long list of reservations about being alive. i think that’s where blaine generally works for him, because blaine is so alive - even if he’s scared to death about it (see: sadie hawkins, the slushie incident, literal depression), sometimes. 

i’m not here to shit on any ships, but i do wish i shipped klaine more. oh well. i’ll always have s2.

i feel pretty/unpretty > i was told i was beautiful, what does that mean to you?

i know this is a quinn line (and a very good one at that), but i find it interesting when i apply it to both of the girls. quinn and rachel are both very beautiful, though in clearly different ways - and they both have trouble believing that. or more accurately, quinn finds herself beautiful but not her self. 

anyway. i wonder if quinn’s parents ever called her beautiful, before she was quinn. they seem incredibly shallow, even if judy develops away from that - i have a headcanon that lucy was very close with their pastor (not...in a creepy way jdsdlaks) and he was pretty much the only positive interaction she had with any elders until after quinn was a thing but ANYWAY he always told lucy that she was a beautiful person but only tells quinn that she looks lovely. that informs a lot of this performance (especially this line) for me. anyway. whatever.

so to rachel: her brief interactions with her fathers make me think that she grew up being told she was beautiful quite often, but then her peers are always telling her differently - i have no doubt that places more esteem in her father’s opinions, but i’m sure that being told two different things would confuse the fuck out of a kid. quinn was likely spearheading the “crazy berry is ugly” craze in their freshman year, so. i don’t know. the what does that mean to you? is an interesting question for that line of thought.

being good won’t be good enough > i’ll be the best or i’ll be nothing at all.

please, she said emphatically.

everytime > every time i try to fly, i fall; without my wings, i feel so small.

listen. what a marley mood.

it’s all coming back to me now > there were things i’d never do again, but then they’d always seemed right.

rachel Fucks Up A Lot. we been knew. i do think she learns from a lot of her fuck-ups (not all, see: leaving nd for cabaret and then leaving funny girl for that’s so rachel), but she did genuinely think she was doing the right thing a lot of the time (see: telling finn about drizzle’s true paternity and robbing puck and quinn of that opportunity) and i don’t think she’d change much, if she had another chance - she just wouldn’t go repeating the bare majority of fuck ups.

hand in my pocket/i feel the earth move > and what it comes down to, my friends, is that everything’s just fine, fine, fine.

listen, considering this is their proposal song, i would’ve hoped for something a bit more meaningful. but i do think that there is something to the simplicity of this song, - brittany and santana are happy. they have no issues this season (outside of britt’s bridezilla tendencies) and as much as they’ve always been the type to get their feelings out via song (see: landslide, songbird, mine), they’re definitely at a point where they can just. talk about their feelings.

their song is simple because they are too, finally. what it all comes down to? they’re fine, fine, fine. :P

human nature > see that girl? she knows i’m watching, she likes the way i stare.

another song i almost picked like, five different lyrics for lmao. while the others spoke nicely to characters, this lyric is quite indicative of their mid-s3 relationship (mercy is still w shane, sam’s trying to push in on that) and uh, i think this is an unpopular opinion. so. hang tight, kids.

while mercedes and sam were certainly attracted to one another, i think there’s a few more things at play here: sam likes being in a relationship, knows that he and mercedes could be good together and he’s trying to recapture being sixteen again, so dating the girl he’d been embarking on something with is a pretty great way to do that. mercedes? i think she likes the attention, likes actually being noticed. she likes the way he stares, basically. (i’m dropping lyrics into explanations now, sue me.)

crazy/u drive me crazy (you guys are all on notice for letting this flop, btw) > tell me i’m not in the blue, that i’m not wasting my feelings on you.

marley’s spent all episode being warned against jake, but i think it’s interesting that she’s basically seeking him out here and asking are they right? his response leaves something to be desired (tell me i’m the only one you’ll see) but at least it’s a conversation they’re having? it does speak well to marley for the rest of the time she’s on the show - she’s best when talking her issues/concerns out (see: her eating disorder v her wanting to stay abstinent, neither end well for her but she seems more at peace with the latter) while jake is. jake.

(i love jake always!!!!!!!!!!)

and finally, need you now > guess i’d rather hurt than feel nothing at all.

i changed this like, twenty times. the alternative was their ship tag (and i wonder if i ever cross your mind/for me it happens all the time), but i think this speaks a lot more strongly for their characters than that does to their relationship. puck and rachel are both very all-or-nothing characters, but 99% of the time they’re going to pick all. it fucks them over a lot of the time, but i don’t think they regret it much.

[lilboppaloola]

The Discussion, before Colorado

"Why can't you just accept that I have to do this?!" Valkyrie yelled at him.

"Because I love you!" he shouted back at her, infuriated.

He saw her draw in a breath, and the flash of hurt almost imperceptible in her eyes. Emotions under control, as ever. It was only his years spent beside her that allowed him to see the truth, carefully concealed behind her veil of complete composure, because Valkyrie sure didn't let him.

"Then let me go," she stated flatly, staring him down.

He met her eyes unflinchingly and strode towards her, covering the short distance between them quickly.

Skulduggery never dropped his gaze from hers as he trailed his hand down from her shoulder to rest on her jacketed forearm. He could feel the gentle pressure of her fingertips through his suit sleeve but refused to look down, to look away from her, and that blank stare that almost betrayed her by cracking.

"You know I can't do that any more than you could walk away from me."

His tone was hard. Too hard. Cocksure.

She didn't move. She didn't say a word. She just glared at him with fire in her eyes, façade shattered.

He stood, anticipating a punch that he most definitely deserved for throwing that in her face.

A punch that didn't land.

After a long silence, he continued.

"I can't let you go, Valkyrie." His voice was more gentle, but firm.

She looked like she was about to contest him but he refused to stop to let her cut in.

"Because I had to do it once and look how well that worked out for the both of us!" he argued.

His hand slid further down her arm to twine her fingers with his bony grip. Valkyrie didn't stop him, both of them knowing full well that she should have done.

They silently acknowledged that she was the only person who could have, at that point.

Still, she stayed silent and squeezed his hand lightly for him to continue.

"You walking away - me watching you go - would destroy us both."

He raised his chin slightly. She daren't look away, because this needed to be addressed now or she was going to run again and get hurt in the process.

When she didn't respond, he ran the back of one finger across her cheekbone slowly, and she shivered, determined not to cry again. Valkyrie Cain was sick of crying.

Too late, she thought, as the first tears slipped out and he caught them before they even fell.

"How did we end up like this, huh?" she laughed shakily, definitively shattering the overbearing quiet that had grown between them as Skulduggery tugged her by the hand he held to wrap her arms around his waist.

He pulled her to his chest and gently rested his chin on the top of her head.

"We are a grand disaster, Miss Cain," he whispered after a small moment, sighing as he stroked along her shoulders.

Her grip tightened on the back of his suit jacket and she buried her face in his shoulder with a long breathy sigh.

"We are indeed, Mr Pleasant."

He heard her voice muffled by his shirt and chuckled to himself.

"You know, I think we were always going to end up like this," she said abruptly.

His voice was tight when he replied, rapidly, humour evaporating.

"That's not a good thing, Valkyrie."

She attempted to shake her head without moving from his embrace.

"And that's not what I meant. I didn't plan on falling in love with you right from the start, idiot. There was endearment in her tone.

"Although I will admit that there may have been a slight infatuation at like 12 or whatever, but I was pretty stupid back then".

Valkyrie trailed off, hesitating.

"Aaand, you didn't need to know that, ever." She banged her head lightly against his sternum.

He stayed silent.

She regained her train of thought and continued, "But what I'm trying to say is that this, right here, was an inevitability," she said, pulling back to look at his expressionless face.

"Before you get angry about it just listen, okay?"

He nodded, jaw fixed, arms slipping down to loop around her waist and give them some distance. His expression was unreadable.

"You saved me from normality, and a world I was adamant I didn't belong in."

She paused, debating if she wanted to go there with the next few words.

"I helped save you from yourself."

Valkyrie ran her thumb across the line of his jaw, staring openly for a reaction of any kind. He nodded again, carefully.

Her voice became more animated, as if reassured by his lack of overt resistance.

"And then, we took on a bit of role reversal." She gave him a crooked half smile that he didn't allow himself to return just yet.

"You helped me beat up my inner demons and we found too much in common to ever go back."

A second passed. She shrugged like she'd won the argument, which was what this conversation was always going to feel like: A battle they needed to fight.

"We were destined to become best friends with that history."

He reluctantly pulled her back against him, speaking to the empty space behind her shoulder blade.

"Normal best friends don't act like we do, Valkyrie," he responded tiredly.

She scoffed. "Whoever said you were normal? Because no one mentioned it to me."

The laughter that followed was shaky, and just a little hollow, until she felt him shift away from her.

She swallowed, falling silent in expectation of the worst, but lips pressed softly against her forehead; once was enough.

It was Skulduggery's turn to sigh, louder; a sigh which swiftly became a shallow chuckle, which faded to a soft silence that Valkyrie settled into.

"I liked your audacity back there by the way," he murmured, quietly reveling in just holding her.

Valkyrie laughed into his chest, "Of course that's what you'd comment on."

Her nose brushed the underside of his chin as she tilted her head up to look at him. What was meant to be a withering stare immediately became a contented smile that filled her whole gaze.

He stared back - not quite smiling, but with most of the warmth he usually reserved just for Valkyrie.

Skulduggery tilted his head and with that small movement Valkyrie knew he'd be biting his lip, if he'd had them. Her expression solemnised as she willed him onwards.

"I know you want to leave..." he began softly, like he was afraid to scare her away, "But I also understand the reasons why, and I don't honestly believe that it's the right way to approach all of this grief, Valkyrie."

He brushed a strand of hair off her face, and when he stared at her she could see completely the depth of his love for her, for the first time. He was as vulnerable as she'd ever seen him, Valkyrie realised, letting her see just how much she meant to him: how much they meant to each other, really.

Their moment of calm, the first time she'd had peace of mind since murdering her baby sister, allowed her to both see that Skulduggery could be right and that she would be better off staying to work everything through - and to stagger in the full acknowledgement of everything she was responsible for that she deserved to suffer for the rest of her life, however long that may be.

His grip tightened around her as if he knew what was happening inside her head, snapping her out of her thoughts, and Valkyrie felt the comfort she was no longer entitled to before she dragged everything back inside herself.

She slowly pushed away from him until he couldn't reach her any more. He couldn't pull her back to him.

She took another step back, forcing down the bubble of hurt that arose when he reached for her instinctively and stopped himself.

"I-" She started and immediately stopped trying to explain her reasons when guilt constricted her throat and made it hard to even breathe.