#not proofread will fix later

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

cookie, cookie !!

baking cookies with suki :3

katsuki’s been hovering around you for about 6 minutes now.

you had decides on a whim you wanted to bake some cookies, and since the holidays were coming up, now was the perfect excuse to. you were soon joined in the dorm kitchen by your grouchy boyfriend, who had just come back from his morning run.

you explained you were in the mood for cookies and he responds with a grunt. but then he proceeds to stay in the kitchen, awkwardly standing around looking at the cupboards and utensils like this is the first time he stepped foot in a kitchen before.

he then proceeds to just hover around behind you, staring over your shoulder like a child waiting to see if the cookies were done yet. you found it cute at first, but that constant scowl and scrutinizing look on his face makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong, and frankly it’s making you a little nervous and baking cookies should not be nerve racking !

“would you stop doing that ? i know what i’m doing” you snap your head to squint at him and he stiffens like he’s been caught, like he was being even remotely close to sneaky to begin with, which he wasn’t.

“m’not doin’ anything” he mutters defensively, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “just lookin’ atcha. m’i not allowed to ?” he leans in so his nose is almost touching yours, that stupid little handsome smirk on his lips as his eyes fixate themselves on your lips before looking back up. you gulp, then you place your hand on his face and push him away lightly “you’re distracting me” you mutter, feeling your face grow hotter. he chuckles to himself before turning on his heels and leaning again the countertop.

it’s quiet for a second before you feel like calling him out as payback for teasing you “ is there a reason you’re still here ? you wanna lick the batter or something?” you quip teasingly and you snort when his face morphs into one of disgust “hell no.” he scoffs, looking at you before looking down at the batter you’re currently mixing the shit out of, screw whoever broke the mixer. “how long are ya gonna keep mixing that ?” his eyebrow raises in question

“until it’s good” you huff, taking a break from mixing to keep your fingers from cramping up. then you suddenly get an idea

“oh, suki~” you sing turning to look at him. he eyes you suspiciously, crossing his bulky arms across his chest and grunting out a suspicious “what do you want ?”

“well~” you start walking towards him, proceeding to wrap your arms around his middle and give him your best puppy eyes. his doesn’t budge but he squints at you even harder and you can basically feel him cave already “what?” he urged again.

“since you’re oh, so strong and handsome, could you please do me a favor and mix the batter for me, my handsome boyfriend?” you give him your sweetest smile and he scoffs, “what the fuck does being handsome even have to do with it ?”he mumbles. pink dusts his cheeks and he looks away from you, already feeling his resolve crumbling at your shallow praise. he hates how easily he gives in to you sometimes. you squeeze at his waist, he grunts “thought you said i was distracting you.”

you’re pouting at him, he sees it from the corner of his eye and he’s this close to blowing up. “that was before. you’d be helping me out lots now if you did this for me” you’re relentless, standing on your tippy toes to lean in close to his face cus he won’t stop leaning further away from you.

he could very easily just shove you off if he wanted to, but you have a feeling he doesn’t want to. you know he doesn’t want to when he closes his eyes shut and his eyebrows furrow and then he groans, letting his hands fall at his sides limply before glaring at you. “gimme the damn bowl.” he growls. you squeal, pressing kisses all over his face and a finisher one right on the tip of his red scrunched up nose, he grunts at you but gives you a light pat to the back, rubbing his warm hands up and down your spine. then he pinches you, you giggle. “thank you ‘suki.” he responds with a “yeah, yeah whatever.”

he grabs the bowl from your hands starts mixing..hard. letting off his aggression on the bowl like it was at fault for his weak will to deny you. you smile to yourself and turn to the cupboard so you could grab the decorations and of course, the chocolate chips.

you watch for a bit as your boyfriend mixes away, you’re watching how his toned arms flex and how the muscle of his arms tightens and tenses up, more specifically. one thing’s for sure, you’ll never get tired of his arms. you quickly turn away before he can catch you staring and teases you again.

you jump when he calls for you not even a second later “s’this good?” he asks gruffly, leaning forwards to show you his work. you feel your face warm as you squeak out a curt “yeah, looks good !” before taking the bowl back from him and turning right back around to reach for the baking sheet you had prepped. he’s none the wiser for a moment before a knowing grin crosses his face, he shakes his head.

you place everything down on the counter and sigh happily to yourself, feeling accomplished. you walk over to your grumpy boyfriend and place a sweet kiss to his cheek “you’re the best.” he clicks his tongue, muttering out a “tell me something i don’t know.” while the pink on his cheeks grows darker, you let out a giggle.

“you done with this ?” he asks lifting the spatula in the air for you to see, you offer him a simple “mhm” and a smile before turning back to the task at hand and watch from the corner of your eye as he places the spatula in the sink.

not before taking a lick of the excess batter still on it.

your head shoots up and you stare, he stares back. then you let out a loud belly laugh and clutch your stomach “so you were just here to lick the batter !” katsuki only grunts. there’s a light smirk on his face as he licks away a speck of cookie dough batter off his lips. he shrugs, walks up to you and places his head on your shoulder.

“figured i deserve a little somethin’ for my hard work.” you roll your eyes. his hold on you tightens and he huffs, trying to get as comfortable as he can while still standing up as he simply watches work.

“hmm..” you decided to humor him “ you did help a lot, i think i can give you a little more" you look at him from your shoulder just in time to catch his eyebrow raise as he registers what you said, a smirk playing on his lips when he does. he readjusts his head to look you in the eyes.

“yeah ?”

“mhm..” you hum. his grip tightens, his hands feel warmer.

“whaddya have in mind then, huh ?” he whispers. he’s so close and you can smell your body wash, probably because he keeps stealing it but you keep quiet about that for now.

“i dunno..” you trail off shyly, your confidence melting away under his smoldering gaze. “would…a smooch suffice ?” you giggle. he chuckles to himself at your choice of words. he grabs the back of your head softly, pulling you in closer until your noses brush against each other and he gives you a half hearted little nose kiss, you giggle and he smiles a little wider.

“s’a good start” he concludes before pressing his lips to yours.

[cornerstoreclown]

So happy to see you’re back, we missed you!🫶

How about reader cleaning those nasty teeth for him? Given he’d allowed it-😉

Consider it done. Gender neutral reader x Art, trying to brush this man's teeth.

---------------------------

This is the third time he’s shoved you off his lap. For the past five minutes, you’ve been fighting the Miles County Clown with sheer determination, spite, and a toothbrush. Who was winning at this point, you weren’t sure. What started off as a simple ambush when he was sitting on the couch watching your TV became a failed plan within seconds the very instant he caught wind of what you were trying to accomplish. 

There were three truths that could coexist peacefully: 

The first one was that you loved this stupid clown. The second truth was that he was fucking disgusting and often smelled like he came out of the goddamn city sewers, and god have mercy on your soul if you caught a whiff of his breath after he finished eating something–or someone. And the third truth follows on the tails of the second one…

Which is that your standards are absolute dogshit. The bar is in hell! Literally in this case, considering WHO you’re dealing with.

Absolutely no way in hell that anyone else in the entire world would be able to get away with this. No one. They’d get a free lobotomy with how far that toothbrush would be jammed up their nose. You’re actually surprised that he’s not yet gotten up out of his seat, but you did catch him at a time where one of his favorite shows was on. That was all a part of your grand scheme. 

You’re back in his lap again, toothbrush with a little bit of toothpaste still somehow miraculously attached to the bristles.

He moves his head away from you again, like a defiant child, and he’s starting to wear down your patience and piss you off. 

“Art.” You firmly tell him, trying to get this brush near his face, and so far, the closest you’ve gotten is within a few inches of his mouth. You use your free hand to try and tilt his head back to keep him from moving, leaving him to respond in turn with a scowl, baring his teeth in the form of a threat. 

Which was fine for you. 

With enough dexterity, you manage to get a few brushes in on the top row of his teeth, feeling a bit of satisfaction until he elbows you in the face and then pushes your head away so you can’t see.

“Fucker!” You say through grit teeth. “Art, come ON! Let me HELP you!” 

You don’t feel the pain when he hits you in the face. Anger and frustration run deep in your veins now, guided by nothing but pure adrenaline as you’re both locked in battle with each other, pushing at the other. You both look like siblings at this point. That’s about how it fucking felt. 

You fight against him pushing your head away, and catch a glimpse of a horrid sight–

His gums are bleeding.

His teeth are coated in blood. 

You knew that his oral hygiene was bad, but you didn’t know how bad, and it becomes apparent to you that everything was way worse than you thought. 

Then he stuns you, zigging when you were expecting him to zag as he switches it up, grabbing your wrists and staring you right in the face, his snarl twisting into a smile. You don’t get a chance to react.

Well, you sort of did.

“Art–” 

You’re cut off as he presses his lips to yours, forcefully kissing you and sloppily giving you the nastiest fucking makeout ever. His tongue pushes past your mouth and goes in, shamelessly sharing whatever taste he had leftover from the mystery dinner he ate the night before, but not without the sharp taste of iron from his bleeding gums first. You gag, the pungent taste hitting your tongue, leaving you to immediately try to back up off of him, and he helps you further by once again shoving you off, this time flinging you to the floor at the foot of the couch.

The toothbrush, your so-called weapon of the day, has been dropped and rolled away from where you landed flat on your back. 

Art wasn’t having it. The show he had been hoping to watch tonight? Ruined, as he gets up off the couch and leaves you on the ground. He had half a mind to kick you in the side on the way out. 

You’ll just have to try again some other time. Maybe.

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part ten

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none (im pretty sure)

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5.8k

The melodic chirping of birds in time with the gentle beat of Alexia’s heart roused you, your back delightfully warm, and for what seemed to be a long time you felt well-rested–felt as if the leaded weight that made its home in your bones finally melted away because, truly, you’d forgotten the lightness of being one felt upon waking from a night’s sleep or, even more so, the lightness one felt when waking in the sheltering arms of a lover. So you sighed, content and at peace, as you breathed Alexia in when you nestled further into the safety of her neck where faint wintergreen and her delicate, earthly scent lived, familiar and evermore comforting. 

When you finally drew your eyes open, the world came to focus and revealed, in its center, Alexia already awake, her head propped on her arm with her honey eyes, just like molten gold in the resplendent glow of the morning sun, lidded as she gazed at you with a lazy smile, soft and relaxed but it ignited you with a gentle flame all the same, whose radiance only intensified upon meeting your eyes. 

“Good morning.” Alexia greeted you and it struck you just how much you missed the sound of her voice in the morning, low and soft with just the right amount of rasp that never failed to incite the desire to kiss her right then.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone, cheeks warming to a gentle simmer in the face of your lover’s tender demeanour. She brushed the back of her fingers on your cheek while a silence filled the space between your eyes, intimate, as you soaked each other in. But when you could no longer sustain the weight from her gaze–when you chest had filled twice over that it felt in danger of bursting from the sheer joy of being looked upon by such earnest affection–you whispered, “you’re staring.”

Alexia tucked your hair behind your ear before she countered in a voice so tender your heart ached.

“And you’re beautiful.”

No words could translate the gravity of what you felt in that moment, so you spoke the only language that could ever come close to conveying it: you cupped her jaw and caught her lips between yours, seared the missed ‘good morning’s’ and the lost ‘hello, how are you’s’ into the kiss, the pace languid but sweet, savouring the way her lips parted in this silent conversation–relishing the way Alexia tasted like summer on your tongue.

Alexia tugged you closer, and closer still but still not close enough, with a gentle pressure from her hand against the small of your back, the other now over the nape of your neck.

But the conversation was cut short, too short, when a small gasp reached your ear, electrifying you in an unpleasant way your eyes flung wide open, darting immediately to the direction of the sound to find Elisa standing at the last step of the stairs, her hair ruffled from sleep, her loose shirt creased and draped slightly to the side, mouth wide open in disbelief as she gawked at the sight of the two of you.

And what a sight the two of you must have been. 

In your haste to extricate yourself from Alexia, you ended up flopping down against the tiled floor, the carpet doing little to cushion your fall, but you recovered quickly and now you stood there not quite knowing what to do with your arms or what to even say. Alexia, on the other hand, remained half on her back and half sitting up, her weight against an elbow, the other arm frozen outstretched towards you, a clear attempt to save you from when you fell down. If the situation had been different, you probably would’ve laughed especially at Alexia’s expression: her face contorted in part mortification and part worry, brows upturned, eyes agape, and lips partially opened–if only you weren’t too flustered yourself to do so. 

Alexia got her bearing faster than you, though–damn her and her athletic condition–because she, too, now stood from the couch (and did so with a lot more grace than you did). She cleared her throat, fumbled with her hands as it looked like she tried to stick her hands in her jacket pockets before it dawned on her that it remained still on the coffee table, so she resorted in putting them in her jean pockets instead. 

“Good morning, Elisa. How are you?” Alexia said in English and her voice wavered at the end, the question infused with a guilty inflection. 

With bated breath, you waited for your daughter’s reaction as trepidation filled you, which only worsened when Elisa’s eyes darted at you, then to Alexia, then back to you again. Numerous scenarios fleeted through your mind and out of all the images your mind conjured, what happened next was not one them: you didn’t expect the way with which Elisa’s surprise morphed into smug delight, her once opened mouth now curved into a coy smile, not dissimilar to a cat’s, that only served to accentuate the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Are you guys dating?” Each word deliberately drawled out as Elisa posed them, punctuated by a teasing cadence that set your ears and cheeks aflame. The question, thankfully, brought you back to yourself because only you could save you and Alexia from this situation. 

“Okay, I think I need to have a conversation with you so up you go, young lady, back to your room for now.” You said as you approached Elisa who you guided towards the stairs with a gentle hand on her back but not before you placed a good morning kiss on the crown of her head. Elisa whined, but she heeded your words nonetheless, although she did sneak a wave and a cheeky thumbs up to Alexia on the way up, leaving you with an amused smile on your lips at her antics as you thought fondly, shaking your head, ‘Oh my god, this child.’ 

When Elisa was finally out of sight and you heard her bedroom door shut, you let out the breath you were holding. That really could have been a disaster, and when you looked over your shoulder, you found the same thought written in Alexia’s face. You dragged your feet back to where Alexia stood who, as soon as you got close enough, was quick to pull you back into her gentle arms. With your cheek pressed against her collarbone, her arms loose around your waist, and her chin resting on your head, you were grounded back to the moment, your muscles relaxing as apprehension began to leave you. 

“That was mortifying.”

Alexia let out an airy laugh, the remnant of her nervousness still apparent. “I know. At least we didn’t do it last night.”

“Alexia,” you groaned as your cheeks burnt anew, “please, don’t–I don’t even want to imagine that right now.”

Melodic laughter filled your ears again before it tapered off which, once again, left you two blanketed in the subtle refrain of the waking world and the warmth of the sunlight that streamed through the window. You didn’t know which of you moved first but in the next moment, you found the both of you swaying to a gentle rhythm as you held each other. 

“So, what now?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence.

“I… I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sure, the both of you agreed to take everything slow, but where to even start? When intimacy and familiarity were already there, strong and incessant in their pull, how could torn lovers begin to mend the fragments–to keep everything tentative and slow? Where should the lines be drawn, the boundaries set, when a profound desire that transcended physical affection already made its home in your heart, a yearning that constantly craved for not only Alexia’s company but also her thoughts? Because with Alexia, you wanted–and would always–want more.

“I think, for now, I need to talk to Elisa about this–about us.” Sighing, you continued, “what do I even tell her?”

“Well, she seems to approve.” At that, the both of you chuckled, then Alexia spoke again, serious but her tone remained light when she did. “Tell her whatever you’re comfortable with. Slow, remember? No labels for now, it’s just you and me.”

She placed a kiss against your ear and you hummed, nuzzling her neck in gratitude.

Another pause. 

“I think I should go.” 

Hard as you tried, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at what Alexia just said even though it was probably the best thing to do right now. There were much you needed to talk to Elisa about alone: her nightmares and her therapy, and now this. The only thing that eased your heart was the fact that Alexia seemed as reluctant to go, too, with the way her hold on you tightened and you responded to her touch by falling further into her, clutching the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to let her know you’d rather she stayed.

“I know. Me, too,” Alexia sighed seeming to understand what you were feeling as she kissed your temple. “How about this? If you and Elisa are feeling up for it, I could take you some place tomorrow? I did tell you before that I’d show you around.”

At the reminder, the memory fleeted through your mind and a sense of melancholy filled you but you swallowed it down before it could take root. Then you hummed in agreement, “I’ll ask Elisa about it. What’s on for you today?”

“Apart from waiting until tomorrow comes?” Alexia joked which made you giggle. “I’ll probably visit La Masia, check with Josep for next week’s schedule, then head home or visit Mamá and the family.”  

“That sounds fun.” You said as you began to kiss her, knowing that your time together for the day would end any second now. As you punctuated each word with a kiss, you continued, “alright, I should let you go now, then.”

The rumble from Alexia’s chuckle radiated beneath your palm on her chest as she whined, “you’re making it really difficult to leave.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop now,” you giggled and just as you began to pull away, Alexia cradled the nape of your neck and sealed your lips together again for a deeper kiss. Then she pulled away but not before dragging down your lower lip with her thumb as she untwined herself from you and gave you a look that made you burn all over.

“Call me later?”

You nodded.

Alexia grabbed her leather jacket, gave you a smile and one last peck on your cheek, before she strode out of the door. 

The feeling of loss that arrived upon her departure did not go unnoticed by you but before it could settle in your heart, you made your way to Elisa’s bedroom. As soon as you entered though, Elisa shot you a question without any preamble, practically buzzing in her excitement. 

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Alexia?” 

Your cheeks burnt at Elisa’s bluntness.

“Before we get to that, ladybug, I need to talk with you about something first.” You said as you set yourself down next to her on the bed. Elisa regarded you with a look that said she already knew what you were going to talk with her about. You wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m worried about your nightmares and your therapy. Do you think we need to switch to a different therapist?”

Elisa gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke in a soft voice. “I like my current one. She’s cool and she makes it easy for me to talk about what happened. But I can take more sessions if you want me to.”

“Do you think you need more sessions?” You looked at Elisa pointedly, emphasising the fact that the choice was hers to make. “All I want is what’s best for you and your wellbeing, Elisa. I’m not trying to make you do anything, especially if you know yourself you don’t need them, but I also can’t just stand by and watch so I’m just here to tell you that there are options. If you need more sessions, we can do it. If you want to change therapists, we’ll both find you a new one. As long as it’s going to help you get through this, we can do it.” 

“I’m not sure… Can I–” You caught her eye again and you raised your brows at her chosen word, and you watched as Elisa nodded, understanding what you meant, before she began again, “I will talk to my therapist about it and see if I do.” 

You beamed at her, proud as you squeezed her shoulder again. She smiled back.

“So, what do you think is causing this spike in nightmares?” 

“I… I don’t know. I think I’m just nervous? Also, maybe too excited?” Then Elisa added with a small laugh, “or both? I don’t really know.”

“About what, ladybug?”

“Going back to the Academy.”

At this information, you couldn’t help but frown, confused. “Is something happening in the Academy?”

Concern must have been too apparent in your tone because Elisa quickly looked at you and said as she waved her hands in reassurance, “it’s nothing bad, Mom, don’t worry! It’s just, Coach told us there are scouts coming some time around the end of the year and I’m… I really want to play for Barça, Mom.”

You understood her apprehension but her answer didn’t tell you why her shoulders looked like they’d taken on an invisible weight again with the way her spine curved inwards, almost dejected. 

“That’s a really big opportunity, ladybug, so I understand that pressure is there for you to perform your best. Is it the pressure that’s making you think about what happened?”

Elisa shrugged, quirking her lips to the side in an unsure manner. A moment later though, she nodded and admitted in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”

“Elisa,” you took her hand in yours.  “Never, never. If your parents were here, they would tell you how proud they are of how far you’ve come already. You’re so strong, ladybug, and you don’t even know how much. And if you happen to fall down, we’ll be here to support you until you’re ready to stand back up again. Just know that whatever happens, you will always be enough. Always, Elisa. ”

Elisa leant her head against your shoulder then she turned her head and gazed at you with wide eyes. “You really think I can make it?” 

“I believe in you, ladybug. Do you?” You pinched her arm playfully which earned you a giggle from her. When she looked back up at you and you saw the determined gleam in her eye, the worry in you was put to rest. 

“Yes.” 

At that, you couldn’t help the warmth that surged through you and you hugged her. “There you go. I’m so proud of you, ladybug.” 

After a moment of silence, Elisa asked in a teasing tone, “so… Alexia, huh, Mom?” 

Your cheeks warmed. “What about her?” 

“Are you together?”

“It’s… complicated right now, ladybug. We’re working on it.”

“Was that why you always looked sad whenever we talked about her? Before now?” You raised your brows in surprise. You’d always tried your hardest to school your features whenever Alexia was brought up because you didn’t want Elisa to worry but you didn’t think that you were that transparent. 

“Did I really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever you tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.”

“Oh.” Pause. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Elisa shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. And it’s different now. Now you look happy.”

“I am.” You admitted with a small smile. “How… how do you feel about us, though?”

“I’m happy that you’re happy, Mom. It’s going to take awhile to get used to the Alexia Putellas being around but I’ll be fine. And as long as she treats you well, I’m alright.”

Your chest expanded at her words. “Thank you, ladybug, that… that means a lot.”

Elisa hugged you then and you hugged her back. 

“Speaking of, Alexia offered to take us around the city tomorrow. What do you say?”

At that, Elisa practically jumped up, unable to control her excitement and you laughed. 

True to her words, Alexia pulled up in her car the next day a couple of hours before noon. Alexia looked comfy in her white sneakers, ankle length socks, shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and a baseball cap, and upon opening the door for her, she took you in her arms and kissed you. Her eagerness amused you and you laughed against her lips but you tangled your fingers in her hair to deepen the kiss anyway. 

“I missed you.” Alexia spoke between kisses.

“It’s only been a day,” you smiled into the kiss, charmed. “And I missed you, too.”

Time slipped you as you lost yourself in Alexia’s arms and lips, and you didn’t know how long the both of you were there by the open door, but it was apparently long enough that Elisa needed to interrupt you two. A terse cough made you pull away and, turning to look at Elisa who was standing just beneath the archway that lead to the living room, offered your daughter an apologetic smile. Elisa only stood there with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with the way her brows were creased. 

“Hola, Elisa.” Alexia said with a shy wave which drew your attention back to her and you bit your lip at the state of her face. You reached out to wipe away the faint smudge of your lipstick on the corner of her lips and, upon realising what you’d done, Alexia quirked her brows up as she smiled at you, sheepish. 

“Hi, Alexia.” A pause. “Wait, should I be calling you Aunt Alexia now?” 

Alexia opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to be completely disarmed by the question. And when she looked at you with plea in her wide eyes asking you silently how she should answer it, you knew just how much the question definitely caught her off guard.

“Uh, if you want to.” Her words lilted with so much uncertainty it sounded more like a question than a statement. 

Then Elisa grinned at the both of you, practically beaming. “I’m just messing with you, Alexia.” 

She then continued to skip between you two, bounding through the door and down the porch stairs, and you held your laughter in as Alexia looked after her with a bewildered gaze, mouth agape. Once Elisa got to where Alexia’s car was parked, she started to wave the two of you over. 

“She’s… she’s very funny.” Alexia laughed nervously, eyes still fixed at Elisa. Then she whispered conspiratorially, pointing to Elisa for good measure. “Are you sure she’s the same kid I met at the Olympics?”

“Yes.” You chuckled as you locked the door and began descending down the stairs. “She’s only like this when she feels comfortable around people. So, do you know what that means?”

Alexia shook her head.

You smiled at her, cupping her cheek before you pressed a light kiss on the other. “It means she likes you.” 

At that, Alexia smiled back at you with lightness in her eyes before she grabbed your hand, intertwined her fingers with yours, and kissed the back of it. And the gesture warmed you more than Barcelona’s summer sun ever could.

Then, once the three of you were in Alexia’s car, you asked, “so, what do you have planned for us today?”

Alexia adjusted her rearview mirror to look at Elisa at the back seat, smiling. “First of, who’s hungry?”

After a delicious–and a quite scenic–brunch at a restaurant located by one of Barcelona’s waterfronts, the three of you took a short walk down a nearby landing connected to the port. By this time, the sun had already reached its peak, and with the vacant sky and the high tide, the view was one someone would expect to have come out of a film; the blue tinge of both the heavens and the sea was so vivid that you knew your camera would have trouble capturing the essence of it. Image after image, you captured your surroundings and as the three of you walked on, rolls of film were exposed to the light of Elisa and Alexia, and these images, you knew, you would cherish forever. 

At one point during the walk, Alexia asked you to teach her how to work your camera, and so you did. With Elisa between you looking over at the sea, you guided Alexia’s fingers over the camera and taught her how to hold it properly, before you told her about the rest. As soon as she got it, she slung your camera around her neck and immediately started taking photos of you and Elisa. You laughed when she held the camera at arm’s length in an attempt to take a selfie of the three of you, adjusting it as best as she could to get the right angle before she set the timer. You told her as all of you returned to her car that you’d send her the fruit of her labour the moment you developed the negatives. 

About half an hour later after hitting the road again, the three of you ended up at the second stop for the day: Camp Nou’s Barça store–much to Elisa’s delight. When Alexia parked the car at a less crowded spot and began to take her seatbelt off, you fixed Alexia with a reluctant gaze, speaking in Spanish so Elisa wouldn’t understand.

“Is it really wise for you to just march in the store? You’re the Alexia Putellas, after all, there’s no way no one would notice.” 

In response, Alexia held a finger up to indicate you should wait and shifted so she could grab the hoodie that was hanging over the back of her seat. She put it on, zipped it up and pulled the hood down over her cap, then she put on a face mask and her sunglasses, her light brown hair spilling out to frame her face.

“Voila!” Alexia waved her open hands. “What do you think?” 

You looked her up and down. All of her tattoos were covered but even with her attire and her face concealed, you could still recognise her–maybe you could chalk that up to you intimate familiarity with Alexia’s being but still. So you said as you schooled your features, your voice monotonous. “Wow. You really look like a whole new person.”  

Alexia threw her head back, laughing. Then, “we’ll treat it as an experiment and see if they will.”

“That’s very modest of you,” you countered, tone still dry. 

“Thank you,” she retorted in a saccharine tone while she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that, in turn, made you laugh. 

So then it was decided that you and Elisa would also wear face masks as all of you went on ahead in your quest to infiltrate–as per Alexia’s words–the store. Much to your surprise, Alexia’s disguise worked although she did draw some unwarranted glances, ranging from suspicion to pure amusement, due to the nature of her getup. And to your chagrin, once the three of you got back to the car with your bags of merch, Alexia smirked at you, smugness all too evident in the curve of her lips. 

After that, Alexia took all of you for a drive up a mountainside with the windows rolled down that let the fresh, summer breeze rush inside. With the wind in her hair, she began to sing along with you and Elisa to the music playing on the radio, nodding her head to the beat of the music. At the end of the ascent, Alexia parked the car at your third stop, which turned out to be the Tibidabo Amusement Park.

You knew this place was pretty high up, but the moment you stepped out of the car, even from the parking lot, the view hit you: it was incredible. The city of Barcelona stretched out far into the distance, expansive and seemingly never-ending, and you could just see the strip of blue that bordered the ports, and the colours of the city’s structures were made ever-vibrant by the radiance of the sun. The view pulled you towards the edge of the parking lot, where you put the viewfinder to your eye to capture it.

“The view is stunning, isn’t it?” Came Alexia’s voice from beside you.

“Yeah…” you said, breathless, dragging you eyes from the cityscape to Alexia and as you did the remainder of your breath was completely taken away, cheeks warming when you found Alexia gazing at you, her smile as tender as her eyes, while her loose brown hair fluttered to the breeze which added to the softness of her demeanour. The urge to kiss her then became too much so before you fall into temptation, you closed the distance and simply rested your head against her strong shoulder, an arm around Elisa’s shoulder when she stepped into the space beside you.

Soon, you began a short trek upwards to get to the entrance, and if the view from the parking lot took your breath away, it was nothing compared to what you found at the top: from the regal immensity of the structure of the Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that greeted you, to the Torre de las Aguas de Dos Ríos that stood proud just behind the Temple, to the perspective that overlooked the other side of Barcelona. After another round of picture-taking, the three of you finally entered the park.

The day went by as the three of you amused yourselves with the park's attractions. And since you'd all forgone wearing masks, Alexia was, as expected, recognised by people and was stopped more than a handful of times for photos and signatures during different points of your excursion. And you watched with Elisa on the sidelines, appreciating the way Alexia interacted with her supporters, and smiled at her with encouragement and reassurance whenever she looked at you two with an apologetic gleam in her eyes.

By the time the three of you left the park, the sun had begun to set.

It was another drive around the mountain side that lead you to the last stop for the day: Mirador d’Horta. Alexia parked the car in such a way that the trunk faced the cliffside before she urged the two of you to step out and you gasped. 

You’d seen some magnificent scenes today, but this one was definitely your favorite.

There you stood, taking in the way the lights of the city burned like embers embedded in the earth. There was something about witnessing the city at night that never failed to make you feel connected, elevated, when you see the million tangible proofs of existence: under each light was a person, a family—lovers—all in their own worlds at their corner of this world you shared with them. And in your corner, in the opened trunk of Alexia’s car, was your world right beside you, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The three of you sat there in silence, Elisa in the middle of you and Alexia gazing over the city lights.

It wasn’t long until the day finally took its toll on Elisa, and she ended up settling her head on your lap and dozing off into slumber. You smiled down at her, brushing back her hair behind her ear as you watched her breathe deeply, feeling relieved when you noticed the peaceful smile on her lips.

“So her battery does run out. Sometimes, I forget just how much energy kids have.” The pure awe in Alexia’s voice made you let out a quiet laugh.

“It has its way of catching you off guard.” You shook your head fondly before you met Alexia’s eyes and teased, “I can’t believe she tired you out; aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one?”

“Hey! I’m only human; thank you very much. And what’s a thirty-year-old compared to a twelve-year-old?" Alexia raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Touché. Ah, to feel young and full of energy again.”

Alexia cringed before she laughed out. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel old.”

“I’m making us feel old.”

The both of you chuckled, then took a momentary pause. You turned to Alexia and asked, "Did you run your parents ragged as a kid?”

The inner corners of her brows lifted—it was subtle, but you were familiar enough with the intricacies of her demeanour that you caught it—exposing more of her eyes, which looked pensive in the dim light, her lips pressed in a melancholic line before she smiled, wistful.

“Oh, yeah, but I’d like to think I wasn’t a menace. It’s just—you know, when you get so focused on something that you forget the time?"

You nodded. She continued.

“When I was much younger, there were times I was so intent on winning that I’d forget about dinner. So, one of them would look for me around the streets or the square. But after I got into Sabadell, my energy finally found the right outlet, and most days I’d gone home tired. Papá–” Alexia bit her lip, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she receded somewhere—a tender memory—then she shook her head. You watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed before she continued, voice raspy and quiet, “He, uh, he’d always exclaim, ‘She’s finally tamed!’ whenever I’d slump down on the couch after a practice. It was ridiculous, but it never failed to cheer me up.”

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, expressing silent gratitude for the memory she imparted, as you smiled at the image of young Alexia with red cheeks in a sweat-soaked shirt, hair matted to her face, being chased and dragged back home to have dinner.

“No, I can’t imagine you being a menace. Mischievous, yes, and probably hot-headed, but never a menace.”

She laughed, winking at you. “Yeah, hot-headed is probably what people who knew me then would say about me. And I can’t imagine you being a menace, either.”

You raised your brow at her, smiling slyly. “Are you sure about that?”

Alexia opened her mouth as if to reassert her claim, but you saw the way her confidence wavered as she regarded you. Then she closed her mouth, now looking more unsure.

“Wait, are you being serious right now?”

You allowed her confusion to linger for another moment before you finally broke your character. “No, I wasn’t a menace, but you really should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Alexia squinted at you and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her tone dry. “Are you sure about that?”

“Hey!” You yelled quietly, giving her shoulder a playful nudge but being careful not to accidentally jostle Elisa awake before you took her hand again. You intertwined your fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, meeting her eyes. Then you took a moment to soak her in.

“Thank you, Alexia, for today. You don’t know how much this means to Elisa... how it means to me.”

Alexia squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed it.” Alexia squeezed your hand as she regarded Elisa with a soft eye. Then a sincere smile lingered on her lips as she caught your gaze and said, “I think I needed something like today more than I realised. It feels good to be spending time with you again.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, clearly understanding what Alexia meant.

“I know the feeling,” you whispered. And I missed you, too.”

With her other hand, Alexia reached out over the space between you and brushed her thumb over your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as she smiled at you with her eyes and her lips. With the city lights behind her, the soft glow of the car light bathing her features in its golden glow, and the summer breeze playing with the soft strands of her hair, Alexia looked so tenderly human, the embodiment of warmth and all that the word entailed, gentle and, oh, so soft.

The two of you sat in silence, just soaking each other in, until a ping from Alexia’s phone interrupted the moment. Alexia looked down, read it, and then locked the screen with a sigh. When she met your eyes, hers were apologetic. You smiled in understanding.

“Time to go?”

“Yes.” Alexia sighed as she stood up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “It was Josep. He reminded me I have a full day tomorrow.”

You nodded. You gently roused Elisa, watched her drag her feet to the back seat, and nearly chuckled when she fell right back to sleep after putting her seatbelt on and closing the door. You turned to Alexia, and as soon as she closed the trunk, you cradled her jaws in your hands and pulled her down for a kiss. Immediately, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

“I wanted to do that all day.” You whispered against her lips.

Alexia gasped when you nipped at her lower lip before she buried her fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. “You have no idea.”

On the way back to Derek's house, Alexia kept one hand on your thigh. And with the radio playing softly as the car passed under a tunnel with lights overhead, it felt like you were in a movie.

After Elisa had gone back inside the house after thanking Alexia for the day and bidding her farewell for the night, you kissed Alexia’s cheek in gratitude. Then her lips.

With her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yeah.” You brushed your nose against hers before you kissed her again. You began to pull away. “Have fun tomorrow.”

“I will. I–” Alexia’s cheeks flushed before she smiled. “Bye, for now.”

Later, when you were in bed about to go to sleep, you received a message from Alexia. She sent you a link to a tweet containing a photoset that contained pictures of the three of you but mostly pictures of a hooded Alexia taken from a distance by the photos’ grainy quality, captioned, 'Alexia, what are you doing????’ followed by a string of laughing emojis.

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. Her disguise was ridiculous in person, but captured like this, you thought it was a work of pure comedy. 

You messaged her back, 'I guess you do have reason to be modest after all.’

[goldentigerfestival]

Genealogy of the Condemned/Convicted novel manga first chapter is done and ready to go!

You can read it here and here (second link is recommended for the notes page specifically).

Things to be aware of with this manga:

This is a short manga of six chapters. It doesn't cover even the entire childhood arc, let alone the whole novel.

Some lines are taken directly from the novel, while others were similar but not identical, and others were changed to fit manga style dialogue bubbles.

Not everything in the manga is 1:1 with the novel, but it's all pretty close.

I hope you enjoy!

Translation by me.

Scans by @suguelya.

Cleaning by Jenners and myself.

Typesetting by me.

[applestorms]

where is the justice full lyrical analysis GO GO GO

TL;DR i'm of the opinion that many people give light a Lot more credit for being a Paragon of The People than he really deserves in this song, so i'd like to take a closer look at the (english) lyrics here-- not only to understand some of the deeper (highly questionable) ideas light is establishing/implying, but also why it may be especially easy to skip over those more dubious implications, unlike in other DN adaptations. see full analysis below the cut, this is Long.

[Light] Where is the justice When the guilty all go free? Why don’t we lock them up And throw away the key?

direct meaning: light begins this song questioning the effectiveness of the justice system. from these lines, it is clear he is questioning the fact that "the guilty" have the ability to "all go free," though it is unclear if he is criticizing the fact that some guilty parties are able to get away with their crimes or the simple fact that prisoners are free to return to society after serving their sentence.

while the first meaning seems potentially easier to assume, the next two lines perhaps point towards the second, implying that "the guilty," should be locked up forever-- typically, you don't throw away a key just to get it back later.

questionable implications: a couple things here. first, light has an underlying claim here that the meaning of "justice" is purely to punish the guilty, to quarantine them away from the rest of Good society. note that he is making this assumption without any clarification about who these "guilty" parties are, what crimes they have committed or otherwise. second, he is also setting up a kind of false dichotomy, saying that the guilty currently are free but the correct course of action is that they are instead locked away. again, no rehabilitation is possible under this view, and no nuance either.

[Light's Teacher] I see a young man’s anger Burning in your eyes;

direct meaning: light's teacher is pointing out light's naïveté ("young man"), though this criticism is softened somewhat by the fact that he also points out his passion for the subject. note that the light in light's eyes here is "anger," and the connotations associated with that emotion-- action, violence, a lack of clear logical thinking. light burns, quick and powerful, but with little discretion for the details.

implications: by describing light in this way, he is establishing light as a very emotionally-driven character, but also as one who has perhaps not had the time nor experience to fully think through his ideals. light's justice is a naïve retribution.

[Light] What you see is my impatience With your noble compromise;

direct meaning: light pushes back against his teacher's criticism, clarifying that his "anger" is more like "impatience," an annoyance with "your noble compromise." light is not stupid, according to himself, he understands the ways in which the legal system (which he sees his teacher as fully ascribing to) is supposed to work, but questions its effectiveness regardless.

to light, this legal system as it currents stands is a "noble compromise," something that people feel they Must stick to for the sake of upholding their noble character, but ends up leading to a questionable execution of justice, which compromises final judgements. i'm assuming this connects back to this page:

questionable implications: light's primary push in this song is towards a fully black and white justice system, wherein The Guilty are Punished and The Good receive Justice (the ability to see the guilty get punished). he is not willing to concede any gray morality here, no "compromise" ever. he is also very quick to write off the idea that he might be getting too caught up in his own emotions about injustice, ironically a bit of an emotional move.

[Light] Show me what’s right about the wrongs that we allow Real people need to feel protected here and now; This whole damn system’s broken way beyond repair It’s just law Not law and order; Not much good and seldom fair;

direct meaning: light continues to question why the legal system allows for what he sees to be compromises in the execution of justice, arguing that "real people," The Good, have the right to feel protected by such a system. he states his points overtly here: the legal system is broken, it is unordered, it is unfair. nothing good comes of it.

questionable implications: a few points. first, light is once again Very vague about what exactly these "wrongs," are that the legal system is allowing, which guilty are actually going free under which circumstances. second, light is assuming that "real people," which is itself quite frankly an incredibly loaded term when it comes to how dehumanized his view of The Guilty is, do not feel protected by the legal system, that The Good live in fear under a system that fails to guard them against evil.

i think people often get stuck on the line, "This whole damn system's broken way beyond repair," since it has the potential to greatly emotionally resonate, what with its underlying pessimism and cynical view about the world. even in my own views, there are plenty of systems that i think are plenty broken. where this line becomes questionable is again in how vague it is, allowing for many interpretations of exactly how the (legal) system is broken. take note of this not only in the context of how people interpret this song, but also for the next few lines in-context.

[Light's Classmate #1] Laws were made for everyone We’re treated all the same;

direct meaning: a classmate enters the conversation, stating a somewhat basic fact-- that the laws were created for everybody, and that everybody is all treated the same.

EDIT: actually, listening to this again, i genuinely can't tell if this is a classmate or light's teacher again?? regardless, i think my points still stand, just push the part about the other students being convinced by light to a bit later in the song.

(questionable) implications: a third party is now introduced with light's classmate here. this conversation between light and his teacher is not one-to-one-- there are other parties listening in the room who may be convinced one way or another depending on how the arguments go. thus, while this is a somewhat obvious statement on the surface, it is being stated in response to light to get him to expand on his claims.

i'd also like to bring up one point that i think may be relevant moving forward: the difference between normative and descriptive claims. in ethics, we typically use this to describe the difference between claims about how things should be versus how things already are.

light makes a lot of claims in this song that are presented as descriptive, implying that this is simply How The World/Legal System Already Is, that we are approaching a system that is already broken. he also makes a lot of claims about how the world should be, that justice should be this kind of starkly black and white Passing of Judgement-- these are the ones that he is less direct about, and that should be more closely questioned imo. don't mix em' up. anyways,

[Light] Till a lawyer’s tricks can fix the blame; What about the victims Waiting for some justice? How can we turn away And say that's just the way things are? What about the families Hiding in their houses All of them afraid to walk the street at night With all their doors locked tight Tell me where is the justice If there's any justice

direct meaning: light responds to his classmate's previous comment, arguing that the system is equal, but that stops once a lawyer can trick the system into allowing their client to go free. he continues, asking-- "What about the victims / Waiting for some justice?" once again painting The Good as pure, innocent victims, afraid to even walk along at night or leave their houses, living in Fear of evil that the legal system has so cruelly allowed to go free.

a very good couple lines in this section: "How can we turn away / And say that's just the way things are?" light wants change. he sees the system as "broken beyond repair," something that must be fully taken down and rebuilt into something better, to help people.

questionable implications: again, light is making the assumption that people already live in fear of Evil that lurks the streets, Good Families that need to be protected by the justice system. there is a non-zero number of universes where light fails to get the death note and ends up being a vigilante superhero, istg. he is also making the (descriptive) claim that victims do not receive the justice they deserve, presumably since The Guilty are Freed.

an interesting point there, actually-- justice for light is about the victims of crimes, not the perpetrators of them (who, as we already established, he doesn't actually see as "real people," not the "families" that need to be protected).

the one sympathetic point in all this that i find myself drifting back to is that big about actually wanting to change. he makes quite a good point about not assuming that this is how the world Must be-- i just find it unfortunate that his Ideal World is so horrendously flat.

[Light's Teacher] Your simple arguments have all been made before The world's not black and white The choice not either, or

direct meaning: light's teacher once again criticizes light's arguments for being surface level and overly black and white. i also think his point about light's arguments having, "all been made before," can connect to his previous point about light being naïve, that he simply hasn't had the experience to recognize that his supposedly New, Improved ideas for how the system can be fixed have already been presented and argued against.

[Light] Perhaps it's time we drain the color from within Till we're back to seeing black and white And wrong and right again

direct meaning: light argues back, saying that his teacher's push to see the nuance is pushing the compromise too far, that we are losing sight of some kind of true morality, "wrong and right," by taking such an approach.

questionable implications: not just questionable tbh, these lines are the most terrifying thing light says in the entire song. it's not even an implication either, really, he just says it outright here-- light wants a black and white justice system. he thinks the only way in which true law and order can be established is by giving up on nuance entirely.

i'm reminded a bit of han feizi's approach to crafting ideal legal systems a bit here, like the extremes of Two Options: Punishment (Death) or Reward (Everything You Could Possibly Dream Of/Desire). wonder if light's a fan...

[Light's Teacher] Overwrought pronouncements won't improve the paradigm [Light] Till lawyers cutting deals becomes a crime;

direct meaning: another back and forth between light and his teacher, with light's teacher once again calling light out on his "overwrought pronouncements," his strong, but overly emotionally-driven claims while light points again back to his strawman of the Corrupt Lawyer cutting deals to let The Evil Guilty go free.

implications: it interests me that light's teacher doesn't really argue against light's claims here by saying this image of this Lawyer doesn't exist, but instead keeps pointing to light's emotional state, how he's pushing for this so passionately but not really thinking through any of the greater implications of his claims. you could maybe see this as what makes the teacher's rebuttals less strong, that he doesn't seem to be matching light's passion with the same Excitement to meaningfully combat any of his underlying points, but i actually think this is quite a measured and good response. light isn't thinking very deeply about this, he's pushing from anger and trying to get the class on his side. it's a bit reminiscent of far right strategies-- hitting emotional buttons, getting the Crowd on your side, giving people hard hitting lines with little substance but no time to think it through. light really would benefit from trying to understand his emotions but but, i mean. what else is new LOL

[Light and Ensemble] Let the corporations make the regulations And all go unaccountable when everything goes wrong; Let the rich and famous get away with murder; Every time a high-priced mouth piece starts to talk His client gets to walk; Tell me where is the justice? If there’s any justice;

direct meaning: the ensemble is officially on light's side now, singing behind him as he throws out his criticisms of "the corporations," of, "the rich and famous," who can apparently get away with murder. notably, light is making a Money point here-- it's the rich, the corporate, who are able to get away with crimes.

questionable implications: uhh source?? is light trying to say that O.J. getting away with it means that the legal system has to kill all criminals for justice to be served? (#joke, i know, i know, he's japanese.)

this is where the normative vs. descriptive claims thing becomes really relevant to me. light, on the surface, is making descriptive claims about how the world Is-- that corporations decide what is and isn't justice, that anybody rich enough can do whatever they want, so long as they have enough to pay off a lawyer. and he may not be entirely off about all of these claims!! the problem here is instead to be found in his underlying normative claims, that the way to fix this is through a purely black and white legal system.

light presents this argument like he only has to sell you on the first part, on the fact that the System Is Broken and people can get away with horrible acts if they have enough money. at least in this section, he does not clarify What his justice is, or any of the horrible implications his ideal system to "fix" all of this might have, though he bounds those two points up in such a way that it feels natural to accept both.

this is where i think some people get the idea that light is a Comrade fighting Capitalism or some shit. it's quite easy to see and get on board with his descriptive claims about how broken the world is (feels), but lose sight of his underlying normative claims about how this Should be fixed. light doesn't think the problem is capitalism here, that's something You have to bring to the table-- but he keeps his arguments vague enough here that it's really easy to do so.

[Light] Where is the justice [Students] Tell me where? [Light] For all the victims? [Students] Tell me where? [Light] Where is the justice? What good is law that can’t punish those who break it?

direct meaning: similar points from before. again, light describes justice as something that must be found and given to "the victims" (of what?), calling the law useless for its inability to enact (his view) of justice (or what light thinks justice should be).

[Light's Classmate #2] Politicians make their speeches all day long; While judges pushing pencils mostly get it wrong; [Ensemble] Mostly get it wrong!

direct meaning: same thing, but he adds politicians to the list of those corrupt. the only thing i wanna add here is that the bit about "pushing pencils," is quite a nice bit of foreshadowing. anyway,

[Light's Classmate #3] Instead of loopholes for the laws to fall between; Let some good old fashioned payback Grease the wheels of the machine; [Ensemble] Grease the wheels of the machine

direct meaning: another classmate again arguing in favor of light's ideas, saying that we should drop the loopholes and morally gray areas to get some "good old fashioned payback," instead.

questionable implications: the class is really getting on board with light by this point in the song. note the shift also in the ideas they're presenting-- while classmates #1 and #2 were still mostly focusing on descriptive claims earlier, here classmate #3 points more towards light's normative claims about how the legal system should be. "good old fashioned payback," indeed.

also interesting that the claim they reiterate here is light's point about how the Only way a "victim" of [crime] could ever be fully satisfied or happy again is through this kind of state-mandated Revenge, that The Guilty must suffer/die/be locked away forever in order for The Good to live well. there's a lot of arguments against capital punishment to bring up against this point, but considering the length of this post as is, i don't think i really have the space for that =3=" regardless, i think this says a lot about light's worldview as is.

ANYWAYS. the rest of the song is basically just reiterations of the exact same lines light said before, notably including the lines about "families in their houses," and lots and lots of questioning about where that goddamn justice is. so, to end this off, i suppose i'll interrogate those more general points just a little-- both the title of the song itself, and its core themes in the context of the full story.

"Where Is The Justice?" is such a fascinating way of kicking off this musical, particularly in how it characterizes Justice itself as this lost thing that must be Found, setting up the idea that light himself playing the role of KIRA manages to Become Justice (or, his view of it, anyway). it is also interesting in how it show's light's relationship with the people around him, not only in terms of how he gets the rest of the class on his side by the end of the song, but also how his teacher critiques him earlier on. it's kind of a minor point, but i think that back-and-forth alone really does a lot to set up the space that L's character will inevitably fill later in the story, how he matches light's underlying Passion and Temperament (and lack of any care for deeper morals) in such a way that would lead to their mutual demise.

for all my frustrations with how this song is often interpreted, i actually think this is a pretty decent depiction of pre-KIRA light, at least within this format. my main critique is that i think it may perhaps be truer to believe that light never really comes to these kinds of conclusions until after he gets the notebook, but, hey. you can only have so many songs, and you've gotta start somewhere.

that being said... why do so many people so easily accept this song as a Real and Good critique of the justice system, even going so far as to say that musical light is somehow more morally good or righteous than any other depiction? (a point that i certainly Do Not agree with, if this post has somehow not already made that clear).

i suppose, to me, it all comes back to that normative vs. descriptive claims distinction. people emotionally resonate with the problems that light brings up, the evil that he sees in the world, and in particular his pessimism about the structures around us and questions about whether or not they actually do what they should.

what they fail to see, and what he somehow manages to get away through how carefully his arguments are crafted here, is the deeper implications of his solution-- the dehumanization of The Guilty, his dubious claims about the necessity of such a violent and stark Revenge to make the Good, Pure Victims feel truly safe or satiated, and all the many greater harms that come from such a complete lack of any nuance.

i believe it was @moonlarked who also brought up the fact that, unlike most other adaptations, we don't hear light's internal monologue here, meaning that we're not privy to the same kinds of snark or casual cruelty that light has the sense not to say out loud. in that sense, perhaps this song is actually one of the better depictions to show how light Can actually be quite a charismatic and convincing speaker, so long as you don't think too hard about what he's not saying out loud. (maybe that's why L got so insane about him? lol)

[hoshiina]

pairing: akatsuki hyoga x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: hyoga thinks very poorly of being in love, but he's in love with you

warnings: hyoga is a little sweet at the end

Hyoga did not like the idea of love— it was only natural for someone who thought like he did. It was illogical and people acted irrationally because of it. If anything, he looked down on those in love because he genuinely thought they were losing their minds to some silly feelings. To him, love was always something for the weak, not for the strong who had things to be doing. Important things.

Which is why he thought you were so horribly stupid to be confessing to him. If one thing wasn't going to work, it was that. Yet, no matter how many times he told you that you were being silly and he wouldn't return your feelings, you just wouldn't back down. Almost daily, you'd find a way to tell him your feelings again.

He hated it so much, everything about it upset him, but somehow he wasn't able to push you away. Your daily greetings and conversations made him far happier than he would like to admit, and that annoyed him greatly. He was not supposed to be feeling joy from someone else, and definitely not supposed to be looking forward to seeing you. Illogical, irrational, thoughts.

These thoughts alone already annoyed him— he hadn't even dared to think he was in love. Never would he be in love, and definitely not with you. Yet, deep inside he knew. He knew that if you were to stop one day he'd probably give in and blurt out these emotions he's been hiding from even himself. He wasn't ready for that, but more importantly, he wasn't ready to see you give up on him. He knew he was being illogical and annoying, not wanting to admit his feelings to return yours, but also not wanting you to move on to someone else. He knew he was being hopelessly selfish, but he just didn't know what to do. He had never been in love before.

The next day when you confessed your love for him all over again, like it was the first and this hadn't been going on for weeks now, the thought alone that he might harbour feelings for you flustered him to no extent. He didn't mean to act so cold and push you away, but he just didn't know how to act. He had no idea what to do, but he knew he'd rather die than show it on his face.

"Hey, Hyoga?" you asked, voice serious.

He stopped to listen and turned his head your way.

"I know you're not fond of me doing this every day, but is it really a nuisance to you? If it is, I'll stop..." you said carefully.

You were trying not to cry, he could tell. He's heard you every day so he knew you well enough to know that much. But this was exactly what he was dreading and he brought it upon himself. Why couldn't he act like he normally did? Why were you affecting the way he acted? Everything irritated him until it made so much sense.

He was in love with you, and there was no denying it anymore.

"Please be blunt about it, I'll feel better that way," you said, but then smiled immediately after. "I guess I don't have to worry about that with you, though. You don't know how to sugarcoat your words anyway."

He didn't know what to say and how to tell you how he felt, so it came out blunt and honest, just like you had asked for it to be. It wasn't the kind that he liked— it came out far too uncollected and in a fluster, but it was his genuine thoughts.

"I think I'm in love with you, and that scares me to death," he said.

"What?" you ask, not believing your ears.

"I will not be repeating that," Hyoga said and turned away. He genuinely believed you were going to run after him and squeal like you always do, but you didn't.

"You won't take it back, though?" You said quietly and he immediately turned around. He knew you were crying. He didn't mean to make you cry— that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"You just said to be blunt, so I was," he said. "Please don't cry."

"I am so in love with you," you said, looking straight into his eyes.

"Even after I made you cry?"

"These are the happiest tears I will ever cry."

[kadajsbitch]

Fresh Air

Pinocchio x Fem!Reader

Warning: Smoking a cigarette, other than that none for the most part.

I kind of want to turn this into a series, idk yet. This may be a bit OOC but for the most part, the character is nameless as for the little mentions of her family and things, I still for the most part kept it a clean slate for the readers to make that themselves. If I do make this a series, I’ll probably give them a last name or something but as of now, it’s pretty much a blank slate so enjoy. 😅

•*•*•*•*•*•

It was late. Way too late for a lady of her status to be outside even if it was just to stand in front of the building she resided at.

But then again, those things didn’t matter anymore… not with the rogue mechanoids patrolling the streets of Krat looking for any potential human or even puppet that hadn’t been affected with whatever was turning them haywire, to ultimately slaughter. It also didn’t matter anymore considering she no longer lived under her families rule anymore. For all they knew, she was dead and despite that being a cause for concern to most, it was one of the things that felt like a grand weight being lifted off her shoulders… therefore, her status didn’t matter anymore.

She pulled her robe around herself a little more tightly for the sake of keeping warmth. Due to the fires that were beginning to spread around the already apocalyptic city, the winds had picked up, causing for it all to appear slightly foggy, and in all honesty hard to breath… which made for what she was about to do seem stupid.

But one thing was for certain and that was that Krat was now in an apocalyptic state and even if the puppets were to one day just stop their tumultuous assault against everything within their line of vison, it would take years before Krat could be in a state of repair… and years before it would be fully repaired.

She reached into her robe pocket, keeping her head up and alert as she looked around once more, wearily taking a few hesitant steps away from the door. While it had only been a few days since her arrival to the hotel, she felt as if she was trapped which to her was slightly ironic because before she had arrived, she had told herself if there were people there who could help her, she’d never leave the building for the sake of her life.

To get to the hotel had been a challenging and a perilous journey itself. She had been on her way back to the station, not willing that was or sure but having only been in Krat because she thought she’d be able to hide out there until her family got bored with looking for her…

She let out a frustrated huff, as she quickly moved to check her other pocket, and to both her satisfaction and annoyance, she finally grasped the thing she had been looking for… the box of cigarettes.

Straightening herself as she hesitantly glanced down the bridge and around her once more, making sure she was indeed alone. Her attention fell back to the little box. She had grabbed it off a corpse when she had been running towards the hotel… she guessed it had been a simple cream white color before it had been splattered with blood.

It felt wrong to grab it off a dead man’s body, but then again it wasn’t like he would be using them. She for one, definitely did not them nor have any true need for them considering she had never smoked before in her life. Yet she did it… and she despite the overwhelming feeling of regret having to do with her actions, she felt a peculiar sense of excitement by it due to the fact if her family could see her, they’d surely throw a fit at catching her smoking.

She carefully slid the little box from the bloodied sleeve that held its contents, before pulling one of the carefully hand rolled pieces out. Quickly, she placed it between her lips before pocketing the box and shoving it back in her robe pocket and finding her matches.

Speaking of her family….

She came from a wealthy one. One with lots of influence on those within in London and neighboring countries, yet no one would’ve guessed considering she never had her debut into society the proper way due to the fact she had ran away. She knew what would come of the day… Her mother had wanted to throw a debutante ball and hold it at their manor, like they had done for her sister and cousins, and so on.

While from the outside, it seemed like a grand affair, some girls who were the stars of their balls and those they attended, loved it and looked forward to them, she knew it was just an excuse for her parents to go window shopping for a husband for her. The very thing she did not want.

So, she waited a week before the event, the night of her escape she had changed into one of the puppet servants clothing and promptly ran away. She had been fifteen then… and she had been very ill-prepared for how the world outside of first class society really was and yet, she wouldn’t trade it for nothing in the world because at least she had one thing her parents seemed to have not wanted her to have at all, and that was free will to live her life according.

Of course, her family wasn’t just going to allow her to leave on her own terms. Over the years she had narrowly escaped men who had chased after her, no doubt privately hired by her father who promised them wealth and money to find her. Three men in which, continued their pursuit of finding and bringing her back to her father alive and in one piece for the award they were no doubt expecting from the man.

And they would’ve succeeded this time too, if not for the puppets at the station going haywire and attacking the men who were all but trying to drag her in the train and those around her…

Feeling her hand grasp the small box of matches, she quickly pulled it out, her head whipping around to ensure her safety once more before she looked down, bringing the now lit match that she had repeatedly hit against the striker until it was ignited.

Quickly she brought the end of her cigarette to it before shaking the match out, and taking a shaky inhale. While she had never smoked before, she had been told if she ever tried, to inhale with her mouth first before fully inhaling with her lungs to avoid the embarrassment of hacking up said lungs. She pushed the smoke out through her nose, making an audible “Oh.” Sound before, she brought the cigarette away from her mouth as she hesitantly looked across the bridge, her face fixing on the figure she hadn’t noticed before.

She froze for what felt like minutes before she slowly made her way to the hotel door. However, she got the need to look back once more, in which she did, and luckily it wasn’t a puppet like she had assumed… it was him.

He was halfway across the bridge now, his eyes fixed on her. He wore a simple chemise top that had a loose frill collar, and simple black breeches with his flat shoes and socks. A stark contrast from the uniform she was use to seeing him in…She suddenly became aware of what she had on, as the skirt of her chemise night dress and train of her robe blew slightly in the harsh wind, again reminding her that she shouldn’t have been out. If not for the fact that by societal standards, she was a woman, it was the fact that she was dressed indecently especially considering she was alone.

She pulled the silk robe a little bit tighter around her chest area, looking down to make sure it was still secured in place by the silk belt of the robe before she hesitantly stepped away from the door as he got closer.

“It’s late. You could’ve smoked through the window.” His voice was surprisingly deep yet it wasn’t so guttural, and held a softness to it. It was both pleasing yet odd coming from him considering his features were somewhat soft. Despite this, he didn’t sound particularly upset or worried about what she was doing. More so stating the situation, and a solution that would’ve been better than her coming outside.

She sighed softly, exhaling the smoke as she turned to look behind him and towards her right. “Yes, it is and I could’ve but I needed some time outside of the hotel… I know the air isn’t particularly fresh out here, but it’s nice to be outside.” She said, her eyes finding his to search his expression.

He tilted his chin down slightly keeping his eyes on her as his eyebrows furrowed in an expression that seemed to be questioning her reasons.

“Nice to be outside… in these conditions.” He turned his body slightly to look at the scene beyond the destroyed building that stood closer to the hotel as his eyes shifted from one collapsing building to the few giant clouds of black smoke rising in the air from fires that brewed.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly as she took another drag of the cigarette, now feeling a little more comfortable to inhale it. “As thankful as I am for Antonia’s benevolence and allowing me to stay under her roof for the time being, staying inside for too long can be a bit stuffy. No matter how many windows you open.” She said, watching as he turned to look back at her, his eyebrow raised slightly in a questioning matter while his gaze seemed to hold a look of doubt.

“Besides, it’s not like we can really have many windows open… while it does seem like the puppets tend to ignore the inside of the buildings, if they catch wind of seeing anything within, they’ll do what they usually do.” She says frowning. When she had arrived to the hotel, she had felt safe enough to relax and be as loud as she wanted due to the fact she was staying in the highest part of the hotel… that’s until Antonia informed her that some of the puppets were climbing.

“How attentive. You’re observant enough to know that if they think they can sense humans within the building, they’ll tear it down in a means to get to us. Yet it’s alright to stand outside and smoke because you’re in need of fresh air?” At this, she narrowed her eyes at him slightly before rolling them watching as a gentle grin found it’s way on his lips.

“We haven’t been formally introduced. My name’s Pinocchio.” At this, her exspression shifted to one of curiosity. “Like the fairytale?” He nodded before holding his hand out for her to shake, an action in which she carefully repeated as they became familiar with one another.

“(Y/n).” She said, a little to stiffly for her liking but hoping it was believable. She had been using the false name for years after she had ran away, yet it never felt right coming from her lips.

She didn’t miss how the corner of his mouth slowly withdrew, his eyebrow raising more as a smirk found its way to his face. “Lovely name. I haven’t met anyone with a name like yet.” She smiled, withdrawing her hand from his as he did as well.

She had seen the man walking around the hotel every now and then, but she had never interacted with him due to the fact he seemed to only really come inside the hotel to maybe get supplies and talk to Eugenia, Antonia, and the man who resided in the study.

And almost immediately, he’d leave afterwards. She had never seen him eat or drink anything, which in turn made her believe he ate when she was either in her room considering the fact it’s where she mainly stayed now unless she was speaking with Eugenia, the girl who ran the weapons shop she had became friendly with.

After a moment of silence and looking at one another, he turned to face the bridge to look at the scene in-front of them.

“You shouldn’t stay out too long. They rarely come up here, but every now and then there’s two or three that are sauntering infront of the door when I come or am exiting.” At this, her face fell from the relaxed, almost pleasant look to one of shock. Not really by the fact that they would come close to the hotel, that much she assumed but she hadn’t even bothered to check the windows before she so much as opened the doors.

He glanced at her from the side before smiling gently, turning back towards the doors as he opened one. Before he entered however, he looked over to her, clearing sensing her sudden unease. “Are you coming inside too or, do you wish to enjoy the outside air more?” He asked. Again, his tone was gentle yet you could see an almost teasing look in his eye as she stood there waiting for his response.

She didn’t hesitate however. Quickly, she knelt down, quickly stubbing the cigarette out as her other hand held her robe together tightly to keep modest before she stood up, and quickly went inside. Nodding at Pinocchio who averted his eyes to the ground to watch his step, once she was inside as he moved to follow, closing the door behind him.

[leighsartworks216]

Why didn't anybody tell me i used gendered terms in The Raven 😭

[contrastparadoxx]

Fleeing was easy when you could take to the skies, even with hunters closing in and a desperate need to stay low and keep them off of the trail. She had a duty to perform and she was going to perform it.

Vrayan had been the first to split off, her white fur and strong legs making it easy to draw away a massive hunting party, off in a direction none of them knew, protecting the two left behind. She had been different, ever since getting away, but in the way that a butterfly is not the same as a caterpillar, or a knife is different from a lump of steel.

The other two had gotten close to a city, one on the shore, before hunters had found them again. And this time, this time, it was her turn to play a game of chase, and hope Mimi found somewhere to hide. No time to worry about that she needed to keep moving.

Things had been going so well, at first, but it turns out a trio of mutants killing their highblood owner and then running away was worth putting a lot of money out for their capture, who would have thought. The bat winged troll pushed the sunglasses she wore further up her nose, glad it was as dark as it was but wishing the twin moons would stop making everything so bright, or that she had one of the others to guide her. Maybe this is why she didn’t see it coming, or maybe she was just unprepared in general, as crack rang out and suddenly fire lanced through her.

Like some sort of cartoon she seemed to hang in the air for a moment before she, and gravity, both came to the realization that someone had just shot a massive hole in one of her wings, and she started to plummet. Not straight down, thankfully, she was able to use her body and one good wing to turn it into a slightly more gradual dive. The landing was… not graceful, legs over wings over head before she ended up in a tangled heap on the ground. Everything hurt, most of it dull, but sharp fire spiked through her side every time she breathed. She may not be Vrayan, but even she could hear her hunters closing in.

The fall badly damaged her sunglasses, leaving the bat more disoriented than before due to the ambient light of the approaching dawn. Dawn? Had she been flying that long already? She didn’t have time to figure that out, if she didn’t get up and start moving soon the sun would get her, or worse, the hunters.

She was only half way to her knees before feeling the ground shifting under her. A quick burst of noise from her mouth left her more confused than before, but also panicked as she tried to lunge. Her body would not respond properly, far too beat up and hungry for that, and she couldn’t get anywhere before the ground simply opened up and swallowed her whole.

The landing down here was leagues more graceful, and softer, than the last, but once the red faded from her vision she noticed two things. One, she could see, it was incredibly dark down here. And two, she was looking at the largest troll she had ever seen. She wasn’t just looking at him either, he had caught her, effortlessly even. This, of course, was alarming for the not exactly massive mutant, and she responded in what she personally thought was a totally valid way-

Doing her best to scramble backwards while hissing.

This didn’t exactly turn out well, and she wasn’t even able to catch what he said before her vision started going black, and not in the comforting manner of darkness. She could tell the tone was kind, or at least not cruel, as everything caught up to her, and reality slipped away for the next chunk of time.

[kerbxros-spined]

Thinking about

Combat

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

what do you think katsuki would be like if you were sick??

i got this ask three times ! it seems yall really wanna know what katsuki is like when you get sick lolol !!! i hope yall enjoy this and tysm for being patient !!

you might as well be dying.

you’re head is absolutely pounding, like someone was knocking a huge hammer against your head. your nose burns, it stings from the amount of times you blew it raw. your eyes feel bleary and watery and you feel so stuffy. stuffed full of cotton in every single one of you limbs.

you figure dying probably feels better than this.

there’s a knock at your door. you want to groan, but can barely manage a weak little whine. “‘s open..!” you croak out, already feeling drained.

your door creaks open and the noise makes your ears hurt. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly.

“fuck, you look like shit.” you hear your boyfriend say. expected, but definitely not appreciated. your your eyes relax despite themselves at his voice but eyebrows furrow.

“thanks, dick.” you mumble, sighing. you shove your head into your pillow. katsuki grunts, you feel the bed dip near your stomach then feel his hand press against your forehead. you’re sensitive and it hurts despite how gentle he’s being. he clicks his tongue when you shake your head to nudge him off.

“stop squirmin’..” he whispers, voice a fragment of what it usually is and lacking the usual bite it has when he scolds you. you squeeze an eye open and see the pinched look of concentration on his face, that or he’s irritated but with katsuki it could very well be both.

“yer burning up..” he utters, the warmth of his hand leaves you and the crinkling of bags catches your attention. katsuki quickly comes back, slowly turning you to face him. “sit up for me.” he instructs, you whine. you see the medicine in his hand and it looks like the kind that tastes bad. plus, the thought of moving right now sounds even less appealing.

“you’ll feel even worse if you don’t.” he scolds. he pats your leg twice “c’mon, up.” you know he’s right, like he unfortunately is very often. managing to gather your strength, you pull yourself to lean against your headboard with a sigh. he slowly brings the little lid to your lips, fixing you with a harsh warning glare. huffing, you grab it and scowl at the clear liquid before chucking it back in one go. you immediately groan, sticking your tongue out. katsuki’s chuckle beats in your ears.

“there. wasn’t so bad, huh.” he teases. you squint at your boyfriend, his smile widens. asshat.

“it was gross.”

“yeah well, ya wouldn’t have to drink it you didn’t go running around outside with dumb and dumber when you knew it was gonna rain.” he sasses, you gasp.

“don’t be mean, we had a lot of fun.” you defend weakly, defending your friends’ honor as well. “not like you’d know what that’s like.”

“haah ?!” he exclaims. you snort, but manage to hold back your laugh and even cross your arms for extra effect. “you heard me.”

“fuck off, ‘m plenty fuckin’ fun !” he spits the word out like they’re poisonous. he scoffs, pinching your thigh before crouching back down to shuffle around in his plastic bag. “why’re you even defending those idiots, huh ?”

“those idiots are our friends, katsuki.” you chortle, he scoffs again.

“your friends.” he corrects, obviously ignoring how much time he spends with kaminari and kirishima daily, how much he complains about them but keeps tutoring them when they ask. albeit rather aggressively..but it’s the thought that counts !

“i don’t see them over here taking care of your sorry ass.” he mutters to himself bitterly, just loud enough for you to hear how jealous he sounds. it’s cute, and you giggle. but it’s shortly interrupted by a cough. katsuki’s eyes shoot back to look at you, worry clouding his features faintly. you lean back and shuffle into your blankets.

“ughh, this is it for me. tell my family i love them.” you say sarcastically. you hope it makes him laugh again, but it clearly doesn’t if the light scolding smack at your leg is any sign of it, it makes you chuckle though.

“don’t talk like that.” he chides, scowling harshly at you.

you smile, “ ‘m sorry..” you say weakly “won’t talk like that ‘ny more.”

“better not.” he leans back down, continuing to dig through his grocery bag, fishing out a cooling gel patch. your heart warms at how thoughtful your boyfriend could be. that or you’re slowly melting and by the end of the day you’ll end up a mixture of goop and nickelodeon slime in your bed. katsuki places the pad against your forehead gently, it stings and you hiss, but the pain subsides soon after, maybe you will live another day.

“you’re not goin’ anywhere, not while i’m here.” he maintains. your forehead cools but your face heats at the determination in his voice, you think you’ll be just fine. katsuki avoids the smile you send him, sighing to cover up the blush staining his cheeks.

after a moment, he scratches at his scalp and gives you a quick once over, then he speaks. “you hungry ?”

you’re starving. but you hadn’t managed to find the strength to get out of bed. “mhm,” you nod “a little.”

“you look it.” katsuki quips, barking out a mean laugh when your eyebrows shoot up and you gasp. it doesn’t take you long to groan, shoving your nose into your blankets and turning on your side away from him.

“could you be any more of a dick ? don’t you feel pity for me ?! you’re horrible.” you huff exasperated by his behavior. katsuki is undeterred by the small effort you make to get away from him. leaning over you to get you to look at him.

“big baby..” he says affectionately. your heart beats but you won’t give him the grace of knowing that, sticking your tongue out at him. it only makes him chuckle again. you turn away again, because he makes you mad of course, but even still you don’t want him getting sick with how close he is.

“i’ll whip up something for you real quick, since i’m so nice.” he jests sarcastically, the nasty medicine works well because your eyes don’t sting anymore and you manage to roll your eyes. katsuki presses two hard wet kisses on your temple and your cheek. he shoves his head in your neck to make you laugh. you try to squirm away from him with a laugh, missing the softness in his gaze.

“ if you get me sick, i’ll kill you.” he warns, then his warmth leaves and he’s leaning away. “i’ll be back, don’t go anywhere.” you know he knows damn well you couldn’t possibly leave, the sound of his jab melting and prominent in your ear, you manage to wiggle your hand out of your blanket and flip him off, which gets you another laugh, then the door clicks shut. asshat.

you flip back over with a light groan, staring at your ceiling.

your boyfriend is a huge jerk, but thinking back on his words and his actions have you hiding your smile in your sheets.

katsuki is always trying to make you mad, but he’d make sure you’d get back to health. because you weren’t going anywhere, not if he was here.

your stomach rumbles for the umpteenth time today. but you’ll be fine, you pat it in reassurance. katsuki will be back soon with something you know will be good if you knew him. because he always wanted to be the best, but also because he vowed to himself he’d make you better, and you can’t wait to taste what he made.

taglist ! :

@napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1 @nicollyyii

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

[unknownspecies]

[Mysterious Cat]

[Geto x f!reader]

tw cursing, gojo being future target practice

Before Geto and Gojo walked into one of the rooms in JJT, they sensed energy from within. Thinking that it was perhaps a guest, the two boys still walked in saw two sofas facing each other.

What they didn't expect, however, was to see a cat sleeping soundly on one of said sofas. A cat that was radiating jujutsu energy.

... "Should we touch it?" Of course it was Gojo who spoke first.

"I don't know. Its radiating energy but its clearly not human..." Geto looked at the cat suspiciously, "maybe it's a curse." He mumbled, trying to figure out why its energy was so different compared to that of regular curses.

Gojo rolled his eyes and sat on the sofa across the cat. Geto followed him, thinking that if his six eyes didn't detect anything malicious from the "cat", then there was no need for himself to be so cautious.

Geto's downfall was not noticing the growing grin on Gojo's face.

The burly man gently sat down on the sofa the cat was on, careful not to wake it up. He leaned back and laid an arm on the back of the sofa and looked at Gojo, ready to continue the conversation they were having before the mysterious cat popped up.

But his plans were cut short when he noticed a frown (fake) on his best friend's face.

"What if it is a curse? Can you try eating it?" Gojo was staring at the cat now. "Try picking it up and turning it into one of those little curse-y balls you eat."

Geto rolled his eyes. "Stop saying it like that. It's not a 'curse-y ball'." He backfired.

This entire time the cat was still sleeping, oblivious to the natural-born idiot and recently-turned idiot discussing its fate.

After a moment's hesitation, Geto dared to do the unthinkable: he picked up the cat.

He didn't notice Gojo cracking the widest smile ever.

As soon as the cat was lifted up, its eyes opened groggily, staring in the direction of why its nap ended.

"It's not turning into a ball." Geto murmured warily.

"Oh really? Maybe try licking it. Maybe the contact with your tongue will make it easier." If Geto hadn't been focused on why this jujutsu/cursed cat was refusing to be consumed by him, he would've noticed the amused tone of his friend.

"Oh. Uh. Ok." Geto stupidly stuck his tongue out and licked its snout.

What.

A.

Mistake.

This will be a moment Geto will never forget.

The cat suddenly woke up and yowled loudly. It scratched his face before it suddenly... became extremely heavy?

Geto flinched his head back and closed his eyes in pain, but nothing could hide the unmistakable sound of a loud THUNK, THUMP, and a

"MOTHER FU-"

Geto's eyes snapped open.

There you were in all your glory, curled into a ball on the ground groaning in pain, both hands pressing into the back of your skull that you hit on the coffee table between the two sofas.

Your head whipped towards him, eyes blazing in shock and anger. "Why the absolute fuck would you lick me?!"

Geto was dumbfounded.

Gojo was cackling.

You were ready to kill.

"I- Uh. What? I thought- You're human?!"

"What kind of fucking question is that?! Are you a fucking freak?!"

Gojo was cackling even louder. (shut him up for me guys pls)

You groaned loudly and stomped out of the room. You slammed the door shut, but not before angrily yelling about how people can't properly take naps in this world and glaring at him one last time.

It's safe to say Geto was embarrassed. He'll be even more embarrassed to find that you'll be his classmate for the rest of high school. And Gojo will be even more elated to spectate those interactions between you.

What a wonderful start to a beautiful friendship.

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part six

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit descriptions of violence, blood, and death

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 3.3k

You had to get out of there.

Tremors shook the ground as another shell made impact somewhere far to your right but it was close enough that the explosion left your ears ringing. You flattened your back further against the fallen wall behind you when you heard the unmistakeable sound of gunfire, the rubble that cut into your skin barely registered in your mind from the adrenaline that rushed through you. But the cacophony of noise amalgamated into something continuous, something malevolent and cruel; something that promised death in its wake. 

Bullets embedded themselves in a column, a wall, a body–everywhere–and fine pieces of debris flew and pelted against the exposed skin of your cheeks and against your helmet. Your eyes watered from the fine powder of pulverised cement and the oppressive heat, while your lungs were smothered by smoke and a choking stench–something like freshly-laid asphalt mixed with the distinct, rancid smell of burnt human flesh, sulphuric and sharp. 

Through lidded eyes you witnessed the depravity; the extent of humanity’s appetite for senseless destruction and anarchy. It was total chaos–no, it was worse than that: it was butchery and brutality at its finest; a type of hell on earth.

All around you were bodies upon bodies, men and women alike–children. Their faces, frozen and pallid, permanently bore imprints of terror and agony; their crooked fingers and still eyes fixated to the sky imploring in violent judgment–resentful and anguished in their silence–the unspoken question: 

Why?

Why? 

Why?

Everything overwhelmed you all at once: the sight and the smell made your stomach churn to no end. Even when you heaved the remnants of your stomach to the ground, the nausea remained, pulsing and gnawing.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you brought your camera to your eye and you willed the shaking in your bones to still. 

You took a shot. 

Another round of bullets splattered to a nearby wall and this time, you threw yourself front-first to the ground and you felt the rhythm of your heart reverberating against the mud. And a sinking feeling hit you. You’d bore witness to many conflicts, faced mortal peril, and was familiar to death like it was an old friend. Each time you were in such a situation, hopelessness never got the better of you–it was like you’d always known you were going to make it out each time. 

This time it was different, you could feel it in your bones. You were going to die here and it wasn’t a matter of if, just when and how. 

But you had a job. If you were going to die, you would die being the mouthpiece for the ones who’d already been silenced–from their premature deaths or from the hand of the power meant to protect them or both–to show the world what they’d suffered, what they’d sacrificed.

With that in mind, you steeled yourself. You loaded your camera with another ring of film, fingers stiff from the cold and marred by blood and mud, and you captured the scene.

Repeat.

There were people screaming, running, clamouring for survival. As you moved with them, you kept an eye out for other survivors who needed help to get out of there. You scanned the faces for the familiar ones of Jones and Gilda but they were nowhere to be seen. You’d lost track of them after the initial explosion and the chaos that followed so the only thing you could do now was to look for them as you went and hope for their safety. 

Meter by meter, inch by inch, you moved slowly away from the direction of gunfire. You were farther ahead now but the gunners were still dangerously close, still close enough to be able to catch up to where you were if they continued their pursuit, so you remained crouched and cautious for any sound that could indicate danger. 

When you came across the rubble of a fallen building–freshly destroyed by artillery from the smoke that came from it–you heard a whimper. It startled you; the softness of the sound barely pierced through the ringing in your ear but when you peered under a slab of concrete braced by a rugged beam, you caught sight of a scene that shattered what was left of your heart.

In the shadows, big eyes that you could not mistaken belonged to a child shone with terror, a little girl that looked no more than ten years of age, her mouth partly open in fear. You could discern another person next to the child but they weren’t moving at all and from the blood smeared on the girl’s cheek, you had a sinking feeling that the other person was dead. 

Gunfire echoed somewhere behind you and you flinched at its closeness. How did they get so close so fast? You needed to get the both of you out of there. If you could save this child’s life then maybe, just maybe, your life was worth something after all. 

You raised both of your hands up and spoke gently, hoping the little girl would be able to understand that you were there to help as you stooped to fit through the gap. The child hesitated and receded further back into the rubble so you tried again as you inched closer to where the other person laid unresponsive, patient despite the ever-closing sound of shots being fired. 

You reached the other person–a woman–and when you placed two fingers against her pulsepoint and found no rhythm, you bit your quivering lip and looked at the child, chest heavy. And as if the little girl finally understood that you meant no harm, she inched towards you and placed her small hand in your open one. With a firm yet gentle grip on the girl, you guided the both of you out of the rubble.

Once outside, you carried the little girl behind a wall, heart breaking when you felt her shiver and at the fact that it took little effort carry to her for she weighed so little. And now with light and cover, you inspected the little girl.

To your relief, other than the trail of flaking blood that originated from the crown of her head and on her cheeks, the little girl looked like she didn’t sustain any other physical injuries. Satisfied for the time being you began to tend to her, gave her water and what little food you had on you, and then wiped away the blood.

After she finished, you detached the velcro of your bulletproof vest and unbuckled your helmet before you put them on the little girl. Then you hoisted the girl up on your back, leaving your camera dangling heavily on your chest.

You managed to sneak across the district without being noticed but you knew the danger was never far away. A little farther on, you began to recognise key landmarks that let you know you were close to the base you came from. So even when the muscles in your legs protested for you to rest, you pushed on.  

Not a moment later though did loud shots fill the air and immediately, you fell to the ground, feeling fine rubble and shrapnels cut into the side you landed on as you manoeuvred your body so that the child wouldn’t get hurt. The little girl cried out and adrenaline coursed through your veins, instinct driving you to keep the child safe so you pushed the two of you against a nearby wall, your back to the open space while you shielded the child with your body, her head safely caged between your arms and chest.

You craned your head over your shoulders to figure out where the shots were fired but then a feeling of lightness passed through you followed by a growing thickness at the back of your throat. You coughed, the force of it made you keel forward, and as you looked down you saw fresh blood splattered on the face of the girl, her eyes wide with horror as she looked up at you.

Then you felt it, a burning sensation that enveloped the entirety of your right side which left you cold. When you looked to your side your shirt clung to your skin, soaked with blood.

No. 

You sputtered again and you tried to breathe but the pain only intensified and instead of feeling relief, the act smothered you–it felt like you were drowning. Then everything began to blend together: the shapes lost their edges and some images doubled, but the light seemed to intensify on its own, swallowing all in its wake. Then you sagged forward and the ringing in you ears, too, blared unceasingly.

No.

You must… 

The child… 

Wait. 

Alexia–

“–are you okay?”

You started as Derek’s voice brought you from your reverie, your mind someplace else that you’d already forgotten but the feeling that you were missing something important lingered behind in the back of your mind.

“Huh?” 

“Honey, your brother’s been trying to get your attention for the past minute. Are you alright?” The familiar voice of your mom brought your focus to her. She sat at the head of the long table while Derek opposite you, and you found twin pairs of blue eyes looking at you with concern. Your mom stood, chair scraping against the tiled floor as she did and she made her way towards you. She put a palm over your forehead once she was close enough before she asked, “do you have a fever?”

“Mom, I’m fine. I’m just–” You began but suddenly, a wave of exhaustion came over you which left you cold. It was as if a sheet of ice was put over you and you felt the coldness cling to your bones, weighing you down as your body slowly began to freeze over. “I’m–I’m just tired. I think I’ll rest up now.” 

When you moved to stand, staggering slightly due to the weakness in your knees, Derek snatched your hands and clung to them, and you looked at him in alarm, eyes wide.

“Please, don’t. Don’t.” He said through gritted teeth, the corners of his mouth drooped low in a pained grimace, blue eyes glazed over and brows furrowed in a silent plea. 

His obsecration confused you and you were about to ask him why you shouldn’t rest if you felt tired when your mother placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip gentle yet firm. You turned to her and when you found her gaze, she wore the same expression as your brother. 

“You’re brother’s right, honey. Just–please, just stay with us for a bit more.” 

What was going on? Why weren’t they letting you go?

Another wave of fatigue doused over you but this time, pain erupted from your chest. So intense was it that it nearly made you keel over the table, nails digging into its hard surface as you tried to catch your breath but with each inhale the more it felt like you were running out of air.

“I’ll–I’ll join you in a bit. I just… I just need a nap.” You staggered to your feet, pulling your hands away from Derek’s grip with the remaining strength you had and brushed off your mom’s protest.

As you passed the full-body mirror just beside your bedroom door, you saw your reflection, haggard and pale, and with her were the familiar silhouettes of the people that haunted you… your mother and father. They stood there behind you–your mother to your right and your father to the left–but you only found an empty space where they stood when you whipped your head back to look for them.

So there you stood, rooted in front of the mirror as you soaked their images in but for some reason, your couldn’t quite discern their faces. They were blurred; it was as if someone had swiped their thumb over the freshly laid ink of their image and made their features indecipherable. 

Longing prompted you to reach out a hand to try and trace the lost edges of their faces but instead of meeting the mirror’s smooth surface like you expected, your fingers sank into the mirror like it was made of water. Quickly, in fear that it would hurt you, you retracted your hand and you watched in awe as the mirror image went still again, back to the reflection of yourself and your parents.

Then out of curiosity you plunged your hand again into the mirror and instead of feeling pain, you felt… nothing. The sensations in your hand in the mirror stopped as if it had ceased to exist completely. 

Would it soothe then the pain in your body if you stepped into it?

The thought tempted you and you stepped forward, ready to sink into this silver miracle, but something stopped you–a weight on your shoulder pulled you back from the mirror. You staggered backwards, caught off guard from the force of it, but when you looked back you found nobody however this time, when you returned your attention to the mirror, the reflection of your parents was gone. 

Emotions bubbled in your throat, bitter grief and burning confusion a familiar taste on your tongue. Where did they go? Why did they leave you? And as these questions filtered through your mind, another wave of exhaustion doused over you, its weight was unbearable. You needed relief, and soon.

You were ready to step into the mirror–into oblivion–but it wasn’t there anymore. In fact, everywhere you looked there was nothing, just negative space as if the light had dissolved all existence but you. You looked down and you saw your reflection on the still water you were apparently standing on. 

It was so still, so peaceful, and you feel so heavy. It would be easy to just sink into this blissful nothingness–this silence–after… that’s right, after having witnessed the revolting boil of humanity’s thirst for blood. Yes, that was it, the reason you were here: you were here to forget. 

The longer you stared into the water, the more your will to remain standing frayed. 

Not a moment later, you let yourself be plunged downwards into the cold water. Into nothingness. 

You woke with a start, breathing sharply as you did, the sensation of falling still with you and the memory of the dream you just had lingered. It was about… what was it?

When you opened your eyes, you found golden light and you squinted at the stream of the early sun that found its way through the gap between the heavy curtains. Your cheek was warm against Alexia’s bare back and you relished the way her muscles shifted beneath her skin as she breathed, still deep asleep. 

With her so close like this a sense of peace and calm washed over you, the kind that only Alexia’s presence could provide. You turned your head slightly and shifted closer to her, pressing a soft kiss on one of her shoulder blades before you nuzzled the nape of her neck where her scent was most prominent.

You sighed as you breathed her in.

“What are you up to back there?” Alexia’s voice, rough and heavy from slumber, met your ears and the question elicited a small laugh from you.

“Nothing. Just getting comfortable.”

Alexia hummed then she murmured, “come here.”

You moved as she began to turn and disappointment filled you from the separation but when she pulled you into her embrace after she settled on her back, the disappointment quickly faded away. And when she kissed you, soft and languid, everything melted away except for the tender warmth of Alexia’s lips.

You were content.

Suddenly, a gnawing feeling seeped into the edges of your mind and, little by little by little, apprehension filled you. There was something you’d forgotten, somewhere you needed to be.

You pulled away from Alexia’s lips. “What time is it?”

“Don’t go.”

Her answer jarred you. You lifted yourself up on your elbow and considered Alexia, confused as to why she would say such a thing. She knew you had to go. How could you not go? Where else could you possibly be? So you asked her as much.

“No, you don’t have to. Please.” Alexia placed a hand on your cheek, her eyes glassy. You sighed, turned your cheek away from her touch, and extricated yourself from her warm embrace. You stood at the foot of the bed and regarded Alexia again who was now sitting up, the sheets pooled around her waist, her chest bare, shoulders hunched forward as she looked at you. You only shook your head before you went into the en suite bathroom to get ready.

Once you got in the shower you, unsurprisingly, thought of Alexia and your confusion returned twofold. Why was she making this difficult? She knew you had to go. You already told her… 

At that thought, you frowned as you tried to remember. When did you tell her? Why did you need to leave? The questions were beginning to make your head hurt so you left the shower, wrapped yourself in a towel and headed to the closet. In there, you found your stack of simple white clothes. You picked a white shirt and a matching pair of jeans and you made your way to the bedroom door. 

As you passed by the bed, you saw Alexia just as you left her and from where you stood, you saw how small she looked. And those eyes… they shone with something you could only name as plea, the tears in them now in danger of falling. 

Your chest ached and so did your head. 

You shook your head and made your way to Alexia, pressed an apologetic kiss against her temples, then you moved to the door.

You opened it and an abyss greeted you, a world of no outlines, shape nor colour, just a brilliant white that called to you. Its pull was magnetic, like a tide that wanted to sweep you away, but there was something keeping you in place, an invisible tether and it was anchored to the woman sitting in your bed.

“Please, don’t go.”

You had one foot out of the door when Alexia spoke with such gentleness you couldn’t do anything but look over your shoulder. The sight of her crying made the pounding in your temples unbearable and the pain in your chest blazed anew, excruciating and cruel. The world blurred and warmth slipped down your cheeks. 

Why were you crying? Why was this difficult? You had to leave, you were about to miss something important.

“Alexia, why?” You sobbed, clutching your chest. It hurt.

She was out of the bed now, right beside you, and she reached out and cupped your face with one hand, the other went to your hand on the door handle. Her touch that used to soothe you, that used to bring you peace and clam, sent pain to every nerve in your body. You gasped, your chest was in danger of bursting and your knees lost their strength. And then you remembered why you needed to leave: you needed this pain to disappear; you had to get better.

Finally, your knees buckled under your weight but Alexia was there to catch you, her body strong and firm, and oh, so warm.

“Alexia, please let me go,” you sobbed into her arms. 

Everything hurt. But she held you, unyielding.

“Stay. Please, stay with me,” she whispered in your ear and the words were followed by another wave of pain. This time, you screamed in agony and clawed at Alexia’s shoulders to get yourself away but still, she didn’t budge.

“I got you. I got you. I got you,” she repeated as every nerve in your body screamed at you. Everything coalesced into a singular, never-ending noise but Alexia’s voice pierced through the veil like a silver lining, a life line that you held onto as you were washed away into an ocean of light.

[mechanicalanakal]

good evening, my kind followers. i come bearing news of a ... half-decently written out AU. it's not my best work, but hey, i'm just grateful the inspiration hit. :')

anyhoo! you can read over the qymaen abuse hour AU riiight [here], as the name implies, there is abuse. psychological, physical, and... it's just a bad time, man. if you're sensitive to that sort of thing, you probably would wanna steer clear. kthnxbaiii

[the-haunted-office]

Dumb ghost has probably gone and gotten herself lost, September thinks as she sighs and climbs into one of the glass picture frames in the office. "Mountain by the Sea", her favorite Bob Ross painting. The original, too, as the aforementioned dumb ghost had raided the vault it was kept in ("liberated", as the ghost had put it) and given it to her. Probably the nicest thing she'd ever done, and as an apology for literally chewing off one of her legs when the two of them had gotten into a fight a couple months ago - no doubt a gesture done at the request of her living alternate, but a kind gesture nonetheless.

The dumb ghost has been missing for a week or so now, though, having gone into the In Between in search of Thisday, and hasn't been seen or heard from since. It's far from impossible to get lost in there, with its infinite stretch of nothingness in every direction through time and space and infinite shards into other dimensions, although September and Thursday both agree that it's unusual for Doom to get lost in there. She's probably utilized it more than anyone, after all, and she has the other 999 souls (including the one that had been stolen from her) of herself from other timelines to prove it.

(Cut here due to length!)

Still, it's annoying to have to go looking for the little shit. One more person to look for in addition to Thisday and Jane Smith. They are all still searching for her, trying to get back not only the souls that were taken from Sept and Doom, but also Jon's soul, and who knows who the hell else who has been taken by her in the interim.

Missing. Missing. Missing. All of them, missing, two after going into the In Between, one after being brutally murdered. September has no intention of being added to that list. Perhaps she'll get lucky and find all three at once, kill Jane, and bring the other two home.

Slipping through the glass of the picture frame, she comes out in the In Between, its familiar sickly green expanse a second home to her. She knows her way around in here pretty well, even though nearly everything looks the same. There's the grouping of shards through which she used to watch the goings on of the Haunted Office. Doom would already know about all those, and so she would have moved her search out a bit further. After all, the shard leading to Thisday's office would have made contact with one from the Haunted Office group, which would have been how he'd gotten there in the first place.

Occasionally in the In Between - although it seems to happen more frequently to the Haunted Office, for some reason - shards into dimensions will collide with other shards. Any unlucky persons who happen to be standing nearby the reflective surface in their world, which would leads through one of the shards, could very easily be knocked from one dimension to the other, oftentimes unwittingly. This seemed to be the case with Thisday, who had been in the middle of a Story when he'd opened a door and found himself in an office not his own.

The current suspicion is that he's respawned back in his office after being murdered and hasn't been able to contact them on account of losing his phone, hence why Doom was out looking for him in the first place.

Well. Sept is going to find them. The Days may be idiots, but she finds herself inexplicably fond of them.

She moves beyond the shards she knows lead to the Haunted Office and peers into one. It's definitely an office, although it's not hers. She can tell because the ugly orange carpet is there - all of that hideousness has been replaced in her office by 90s arcade carpet at Thursday's behest.

No sign of Doomsday or Thisday, though.

She moves to the next shard, speeding along forward through time next to its cousin. Peers into it. Same office, from the looks of it, and the same ugly orange carpet.

Still no sign of either Day.

Next shard. Same office, no Day.

Next shard. Same story.

The search goes on like this for hours. Shard after shard after shard, and no sign of either Thisday or Doomsday. It would be a tiresome effort were it not for the fact that Sept, being a Benign Reaper, never experiences exhaustion. She can't even feel pain, much less fatigue. It's still a tedious and frustrating process, though. She should have told Doom to spray paint expletives on the walls as a way of telling where she'd been - perhaps that would make finding her easier.

Dumb ghost.

She's about to move on from the latest shard when she catches sight of someone on the other side of it... and is immediately filled with rage when she realizes who it is. She'd recognize that horrid, mangled soul anywhere - not to mention one of the ones glowing faintly from a ring around her finger.

This is the one they've all been looking for.

Abandoning her search for the Days, Sept dives through the shard and, without a moment of hesitation or warning, goes straight for the Malignant's throat with her claws, fully intent on ripping it out. Who cares if they're both dead and both Reapers, if she can tear off one of Doomsday's ears (although it had grown back), then she can tear out this woman's throat.

She doesn't make it very far, though, as Jane turns, smiles at her, and in a movement faster than Sept has ever seen (or not seen, as the movement was so quick she couldn't see it), grabs her by the throat instead and slams her to the ground, pinning her with only one hand. Sept roars and struggles, all of her limbs scrabbling uselessly at the carpet, ripping it up, tearing foot-long claw marks in the walls, but it's ultimately useless.

Jane has grown exponentially more powerful since her escape into the In Between. And it's no mystery as to why, as Sept can see all the extra souls she is carrying around, packed like sardines in bunches around her fingers, neck, and ears. All packed into her glittering bundles of jewelry.

"432. Pleasure to see you again," the Malignant states, plain and easy as greeting a colleague on a normal work day.

Though she's pinned down, September wastes no time in making her demands, even as she struggles on the floor. "GIVE THEM BACK TO ME. GIVE OLLIE BACK!"

Her demands are deftly ignored. "Didn't I tell you to know your place, 432? And that's back at the office, sharpening pencils."

"GIVE OLLIE BACK!" Her voice is no longer her own voice, but hers plus those of dozens of others, the voices of the other souls she's merged with, all speaking in a discordant disharmony, slightly out of sync with each other.

"What's the point in struggling, my dear? You already know your purpose," Jane says, her voice sickly sweet.

"GIVE THEM BACK!"

"There's something I think you should know," Jane says, again ignoring the demand. "Do you know why you were so obsessed with sharpening pencils, 432? Because you were programmed to."

September stops struggling momentarily. Jane, knowing that she has her attention now, continues.

"That's right. There's no harm in telling you now, seeing as we're both dead. We had chips planted on all you employees so that we could run mind control experiments on you. You were programmed to want to sharpen pencils, and do nothing else, while everyone else was programmed to shun you for it."

September feels her world grinding to a halt. All those years - years - of being lied to, shunned, whispered about, made fun of, manipulated, gaslit by all of her coworkers, all a part of some experiment? She can't believe it, and expresses as much.

"Oh, it's true. You all had the chip planted on you."

"I don't believe you," Sept hisses, and begins to fight back again, although it is again to no avail.

"Let me guess. You want proof? Hm. Those experiments really did a number on you, didn't they? Very well. There's only one employee who lives, who of course still has the chip. Do you know who that is?"

It takes her a couple of seconds, but then it dawns on her. She doesn't have to say who it is - she can tell that Jane knows she has figured it out.

"That's right. Even she had one implanted on her. That's the only reason she likes you, you know. That was her programming. Treat you with kindness, one person out of hundreds, and see how long it would take you to break down. Too bad our experiment was interrupted."

No. It's unbelievable. She can't believe it. Thursday... her only friend... programmed to be her friend? All those times in the break room together, talking, getting to know each other, Sept confiding in her that she wanted to transition, Thursday giving her her new name... All of that was programmed?

And now...? All the time they've spent together now...?

"You see? You were never meant to have any friends, 432. You were meant to work. And I suggest you get back to it now."

The Malignant Reaper finally releases her and September doesn't move. She just lies there, stunned, her world shattering around her as the shards scatter in the In Between, while Jane once again escapes and vanishes.

[hoshiina]

pairing: akatsuki hyoga x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: kind of inspired by from the start by laufey, you loved him from the start

warnings: the reader is described as beautiful and pretty, hyoga is kind of sweet

If someone were to ask you what made you fall in love with Hyoga, you’d be in a bind, because you truly had no reason. You had no idea what started this little crush, but you were certain you loved him, there was no mistake about it. From the way you would notice your eyes following him, all the way to the way your heart would flutter when he talked to you. There was no other explanation of these emotions you harboured.

Hyoga was skeptical at times. He enjoyed talking to you far more than you would ever imagine, but sometimes he would have a sense that you might have some feelings for him. However, every time he had thought of this, it would immediately fade as he came to his senses, because there was absolutely no way you would fall for him. There was nothing he had ever done that could possibly come across as good, let alone something that would make someone fall for him. And definitely not you.

There were so many people who would kill to get one date with you, but none of them had had the confidence to ask. You were the most beautiful person most people had laid their eyes on, and he wasn’t an exception. This wasn’t only about your looks either, it was actually mainly about who you were. You would always be down to help and you always had a smile on, no matter the day. 

Your existence was more of an annoyance to Hyoga when you were just revived. He first assumed that Senkuu had just decided to revive a pretty person to raise the moral of the team, after realizing you had no particular strengths. However, it wasn’t long until he realized it wasn’t your looks that were making everyone’s day, it was rather your energy that was. For the first time in his life, he realized the effect one’s kindness can have on others. Soon after, the two of you had your first conversation, and for the first time in a very long time, you brought a smile to his face.

Now, you had no idea how to make Hyoga fall for you. You had pondered on this for months now, thinking about this every time you talked to him. Quite frankly, you were tired. You wanted him to like you so badly and today you were going to go for it. You had to start somewhere and whatever you were doing obviously wasn’t working.

The next time you talked to Hyoga was rather soon. He was just finishing his training for the day and you had just helped bring back the minerals that Chrome had found today. You were always nervous when you talked to him, but today must have been so much worse than usual, because you blurted out the words you had carefully held in for months.

“Hyoga, I like you,” you said and he was visibly shaken, but to his surprise you looked just as horrified. 

“...What?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“That came out wrong,” you said and he undeniably felt his heart drop a little. Of course it did.

“If you’re going to pull that prank, at least do it to someone believable,” Hyoga said.

“What?” you said and immediately you realized what he meant. “No, I do like you. I’m serious, I just didn’t mean to blurt it out like that.”

“There’s no way,” Hyoga said, but he was hoping you would deny him and explain. “What have I ever done to make you like me?”

“Well, I’m sure that I do. I can’t quite point out when I first fell in love, but I can list things I like about you,” you said, absolutely confident. “I like the way you don’t say things you don’t mean. I like the way you care for those who matter. Oh, I love the way you’re always working hard. I know you’ve never skipped a day of training, even when you were burning up with that fever and you really should’ve...” You were ready to go on but the way Hyoga’s eyes widened surprised you. Immediately, you remembered when you first fell in love with Hyoga.

It was like you had thawed his frozen heart. He was so lost on how to react, no one had ever said that to him before. It was then that he remembered the time he probably fell for you. It was the first time the two of you had talked and your first comment was that you liked his kudayari spear. He had questioned if you were familiar with it and you told him you were not, a little embarrassed. You had admitted that you hardly knew anything about combats and weapons, but you assumed that the wear and tear in his spear showed how hard he worked. That couldn’t help but make him smile.

You were always like that. 

“Hyoga, I remember what made me fall in love,” you said, almost proud. “The first time we talked, you smiled. I thought a cupid shot me in the heart.”

Your confident demeanor was slowly fading away as you waited for his response. He could tell you were nervous and that made his heart flutter. You were serious. 

It wasn’t on purpose, it wasn’t because you had just said that. He just couldn’t help but smile. 

“Then, I fell in love first.”

BONUS

"No way," you said, unable to process that he returned your feelings, let alone fell first.

"You better not go around doing that to other people," he said, not elaborating on the previous statement.

"Oh, don't be silly," you said and he opened his mouth to tell you he was serious, but you went on. "I've only ever been looking at you, how would I know anything about anyone else?"