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#but psych! it was really just me coming up more ideas!!
damned-punk · 18 hours
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What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)
Part Nine
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment, angst
Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
The daisy that Kidd had welded was taunting you from its place on your nightstand. He was right that it’d never wilt but even if it could, the two of you likely wouldn’t last long enough to watch it happen. The cold metal material that comprised its stem and petals was ironic, a sardonic mimicry of what was beginning to feel like a fabricated relationship. You didn’t know what to think anymore, you no longer held distain for Hip’s advice though it could serve you no favors in your current situation. The writing had been on the wall from the night you’d met, the proposition of causal fun should’ve been a glaring red flag but you’d ignored it the same as you had many others.
You’d learned that Kidd was the type of person who could become enamored with someone and play with the idea of a relationship, but he seemed to lack the skills necessary to maintain the relationship once it was started. You assumed that years upon years of hardship and loss had significantly damaged his attachment style, the revelation doing little to help you work through the heavy sense of loss that clouded your psyche. Every day that passed was so dull, you couldn’t wait for them to end once they’d begun. You weren’t even sure how many days it had actually been and you honestly didn’t want to, it didn’t matter anyway.
Your phone was essentially out of commission on account of all the calls and texts that you didn’t have the strength to address. You could only read a few of them every once in a while, his words far too painful to handle. It was obvious when he was drunk or exhausted as what were once carefully selected words would turn into a barrage of mismatched phrases and letters. Killer had even reached out to check on you, he’d always been so kind. Sometimes you didn’t understand how they’d remained friends for so long, Kidd seemed to always be on some level of extreme. You wished you had whatever trait Killer possessed to make Kidd care for him so much, maybe then something meaningful could tether the two of you together.
You flinched upon hearing a car door shut just outside your home, a few short knocks on the door causing your heart to race. You did your best to peer out the window to identify the visitor but the angle made it nearly impossible. As you cracked the door open just a few inches, confusion knitted through your brows. Killer towered over you with his hands tucked in his jeans, alone and carefully considering what he wanted to say.
“I’m sure you’re upset and you don’t have to say anything, just please hear me out.”, he bargained with you.
“Alright.”, you replied after a moment, trusting Killer’s discretion.
“It really wasn’t what it looked like. He royally fucked up, but he did not sleep with her. I don’t know exactly how she ended up in the car with him, but she slept on the couch and he wasn’t interested in her at all. I can promise you that’d he would’ve told me if anything happened and if it had, I wouldn’t be here right now.”, Killer explained, “He woke up the next morning not even really knowing who in the hell she was. He was going to take her home and then come here to talk to you, but you got to the house before he had the chance.”
“He’s had more than once chance at this point.”, you noted, not exactly feeling like the situation was so easily rectified, “Is this something that he always does? If I believe you and go back to him, how long will it be before we’re right back here again?”
“I can’t say that this won’t ever happen again because I don’t know if it will or not. I hope it doesn’t, but Kidd is very temperamental sometimes and you know that just as well as I do.”, Killer replied with a very valid point, “I’ll be honest, I’ve only ever seen him this torn up one other time before… I wouldn’t have wasted your time or mine if I didn’t think it was worth it. He hasn’t slept and he won’t eat, all he does is fuck with shit in the garage all night, works, comes home, and then does it all over again.”
“I don’t know… This has been really hard, Killer. Things will be great for a little while and I’ll think we’re getting somewhere only for him to go off on me or leave me for someone else.”, you let your feelings be known, “I know that I love him, but I also know that I can’t keep doing this.”
“I know and I agree with you entirely, this can’t keep going on.”, Killer validated your understandably difficult position, “I’m asking you, as a friend, please give him a chance to explain himself. This isn’t something that I can fix or help him through, he’s spiraling without you.”
Killer watched you with hopeful eyes as you gave the situation some very intensive thought. To care is a curse and love is a cruel emotion. It’s manipulative, draining, and blinding above all else. It’s so beautiful when it blooms, but it is always met by the most gruesome of ends. Whether or not you still cared for Kidd wasn’t to be questioned, he meant the world to you and that would never change. That sentiment had come back to bite you so many times before but realistically, what more damage could be done?
“I’ll come see him, but I need you to be there.”, you relented as Killer let out a great sigh of relief.
“I’ll be right beside you, whatever you need.”, he patted your shoulder in an attempt to reassure you.
Killer held true to his word, staying at your side and offering as much support as he could in your respective circumstances. He waited patiently on the couch as you dressed yourself and kindly lead the way back to their shared home for you to follow. Kidd hadn’t noticed the two of you pull up and certainly couldn’t hear the slamming of car doors on account of the very heavy music that was blaring from the garage. The door was raised just enough for him to be able to walk out if needed, his bare and sweat-soaked back facing you as he leant over the engine bay of a worn vehicle. You stood just outside the door beside Killer, you couldn’t bring yourself to approach him and instead waited for him to notice the two of you.
After a few minutes had passed, he stood to retrieve a tool from his workbench. As he turned to resume tinkering, he caught sight of you and froze. His expression was facetious, not at all amusing but irrevocably indicative of how much he’d been struggling with all of this. There was no signature eyeliner or lipstick to speak of, only sunken eyes and dark circles in their wake. Trying to recollect himself, Kidd moved to turn the music down while Killer made his way to sit on their porch. He was close enough to intervene if things went sideways, but far enough to allow for some privacy.
You didn’t know what to say and it seemed like he didn’t either, the silence between the two of you growing rather awkward. Kidd looked totally defeated and while he was in the wrong, it wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed seeing. It felt like you could say anything and ruin him permanently if you really wanted to. Just as you felt doubt begin to chip away at your presence in the moment, Kidd extended his arms to you and gave you an optimistic look. Nearly all of your reservations faltered as you walked into his embrace, immediately being lifted off your feet and held as close to him as possible. His dampened forehead pressed against your neck as he folded himself around you. His grip was tight and as though he’d loose something precious if he ever let go.
“(Y/N), I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”, he spoke against your skin, “I promise you that nothing happened. I wanted to get the fuck out of there and when she asked me for a ride home, I guess I brought her here. She slept on the couch and I was about to actually take her home when you pulled in.”
“That’s only one small part of the much bigger problem, Kidd. You left me alone at a party full of people that I don’t really know and then you brought someone else home, only for me to find the two of you together the next day.”, you kept your voice low as to not escalate the situation, still stern enough to convey your point, “That was one of the worst feelings I’ve had in my entire life. I felt like I meant nothing to you or anyone else, that I was just something to throwaway and be forgotten.”
“It’s not like that and it��s never fuckin’ been like that.”, he said seriously, lifting his head to face you, “Please, let me make this up to you…”
This was something different, something that you hadn’t seen from him before. You hated everything about this, the way he’d make you feel, the way he’d sunken into himself, and the way that everything in your life seemed to revolve around him. Of course you wanted to pick up where you’d left off, but it went beyond that simple concept. Something within you knew that if this ended, there would never be another Kidd. In fact you’d never have the opportunity to be truly happy again, you’d only be mourning what should have been. It was unhealthy and that reality had crossed your mind, but in this moment in his arms, you didn’t care.
“I’ll give you anything you want, (Y/N)… You tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.”, he pleaded with you while resting his forehead against your own, his tired eyes glazed and searching for any hint of clarity.
That always seemed to be his answer and you weren’t sure if he really meant it or if he just wished it were the truth. You wanted to believe that he had the ability to commit himself to an established relationship, but even that was a far cry from your current predicament. You undoubtedly wanted Kidd and it was looking like this would be the price you’d have to pay if you wished to stay with him. Perhaps this was the moment of unraveling, a realization of something you’d been missing all along.
“This can’t happen again.”, you repeated the same condition you’d given him before, praying that you’d never have to say it again, “I know this is hard on you, but you have to stop being so self destructive. People care about you and whether you intend for them to or not, your actions have very real consequences.”
“You’re right…”, he trailed off, seemingly taking in what you’d said, “I don’t want to lose you, (Y/N).”
“You won’t. We have some things we need to work on, but you won’t. I’m right here.”, you reassured him, lifting your head to kiss his forehead, “How about you go shower and then we’ll eat something? That’ll be a good start.”
He took your chin in his hand and placed a very passionate kiss to your lips. The gesture made up for the things he didn’t know how to say, also working to fluster Killer as he watched the two of you. He’d certainly tease Kidd for it later, happy that the two of you actually managed to reconcile with one another. You followed the two of them into the house and took some time to appreciate the comfort of Kidd’s bedroom. It was a sick sense of consolation, the familiarity of something you held so dear that was on the edge of being ripped from your hands at any given moment.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
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hitwiththetmnt · 5 months
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Sweet Dreams P1, P2
@butterfilledpockets ITS BEEN A WHILE BUT I HAVE MORE IDEAS, I will take care of the B.E.N.T babies while you’re away
Don Bot dreams
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volivolition · 4 hours
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dude the TOP song you posted (truce) fucking kills me and the way you described the animatic is??? so good???? I'd bawl actually /pos
I need to know if there's any other TOP songs you relate to the furies/any DE character really, or any slower songs even if they aren't by TOP
OH AGREED ABSOLUTELY!! TRUCE MY BELOVED... and THANK YOU!! we are imagining animatics and crying together! /pos :'] <3
ooh!! well, i havent listened to a lot of TOP in a while, so i don't have many recommendations there unfortunately :'] but for other slow, soft songs, let's see... i'll put them under a cut with all my explanations, but ☀️ "See The Day" by The Altogether (Volition song!), 🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos (Shivers song!), 🦋 "Would You Be So Kind" by dodie (general skills song, Suggestion primarily!) are the best contenders!
Pretty sure you've seen it already, but from a different ask, i recommend "Almost (Sweet Music)" by Hozier! (and "Like Real People Do" if you want to cry and yearn with me, though my DE ideas for it are very loose hkjhg) these are slow ones i like hkjhg <3
"Goodbye" by The Altogether is a Harry and Dora song :0
"Soldier, Poet, King" by The Oh Hellos is one i specifically relate to Volition (my beloved protector/motivator/crownhead blorbo! [picks him up and wiggles him!!!]), but i would make one of those animation memes for it with every skill slotted into a "soldier" "poet" or "king" position.
☀️ "See the Day" is both another The Altogether song and another Volition song! a real "the worst is over. we made it through. we're going to survive this. it might not get easier yet, but we'll come out the other side and we'll be alive" song. it makes me cry hkjgh
🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos is a soft Shivers song, though the lyrics don't start until halfway in. ough my god listening to it makes my heart ache (/pos) <3 La Revacholiere singing to Harry in the wind. "Will you start when I end? Yeah, I'm long in the wind..."
"Northern Star" by Dom Fera, a song Harry would sing for karaoke and dedicate to Kim, and then they'd waltz a little clumsily on the dim, starlit sidewalk on their way home for the evening... <3
🦋 "Would You Be So Kind?" by dodie BUT SPECIFICALLY THIS VERSION, because i love everyone's crowded but earnest vibes. this one is led by Suggestion ("oooh you wanna fall in love with us so bad right? right???") and makes me grin, you GOTTA imagine all of the skills squished together in the front of Harry's brain all trying different tactics to get Kim to fall in love with them, (rhetoric: "I HAVE A QUESTION..." ency: "let's write a story! be in my book!") at 2:35, after all the skills singing together loudly, it's just Harry himself singing to Kim, with all the skills slowly backing him up. the ending is all of them fucking ECSTATIC celebrating when harry finally kisses kim hkjhg jesus this'd be so cute hold on i have to go plan this out i have so many thoughts hkjdh
"Seven" by Sleeping at Last would be a sweet Reaction Speed song (ironic that im adding react speed to a list of soft, slow songs though hkjgh) "I'm ready for whatever comes next!" <3 Reaction Speed is a fast, restless little fella who can't sit still for long, always loves moving, acting, doing. he's like the personification of a verb hkjhg <3 i would also accept an interpretation for echem <3
"Cosmos" by Jawbreaker Reunion is a song that The Furies recently suggested to me as a jean song and it's so right for that, very soft and i like it very much :'] (you should also ask The Furies if you want to, it's much more musically inclined than me, i feel hkjhg <3)
awuahg thank you for asking and for reading!! i appreciate it!! <33
oh and here's links to all of the songs in the tags: Come Together Now, Two, Four, Five, Six, Eight, Nine, RPG Animation Meme (<- homestuck lmao)
#volta transmissions#now: songs that didn't meet the requirements (either not a slow song OR doesnt remind me of de characters/skills) but honorable mentions:#you specifically asked for slow songs but i refound ''come together now'' from the lego movie soundtrack and I HAVE SKILL THOUGHTS...#<- no chemi you're not hosting a fucking multi animator project you have enough on your plate THANKS <3#but!! that is my idealized version of the skills to me though. ''we're all really different but we make each other better together''#dodie has many more slower songs but i cant really relate them to DE hkjhg <3 the oh hellos too!! and the altogether <3#''two'' from Sleeping at Last makes my heart hurt but i can't relate it to anyone in specific. but if you want a soft song that i love <3#also from Sleeping at Last but i dont like these songs as much: ''Four'' is Concept! ''Five'' is Viscal! ''Six'' is Psyche in general#but specifically inland and volition!! ''Eight'' is an Endurance song but i'd also take Authority or Phys interpretations <3#but eight is kind of intense so it doesnt go in the actual list. ''Nine'' might be Empathy? get over being a moralist little guy!!#i like ''Two'' ''Seven'' and ''Eight'' while the other ones are not my cup of tea... but they ARE soft songs i associate with skills!#only tangentially related but the RPG animation meme would be. extremely fun to do for the skills. and i think about it intensely.#LISTEN... there's 30-ish beats at the start for characters. theres 24 skills plus room to show group ups by type (int; psyc; phys; mot)#the entire main thing of the meme is [someone says a stupid idea] [everyone disliked that!!] WHICH IS EXACTLY THE RIGHT VIBE HFJKFH#HOWEVER. i still dont have designs for [checks] MORE THAN HALF OF THEM. so EL BIGO MISTAKO LIEUTENANT! YOU CAN'T!#i wish i was more well-versed in music hkjhg im kinda just vibing with what i got <3 this is why daily voltas stopped :'] alas!
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prozach27 · 1 year
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#tbh this year has taught me that I really am a leader#like leadership is 100% where I really shine and I’m damn good at it#getting more involved with my community has been so amazing and really restored my confidence in myself and my joy for life#like being on the exec board of the psych grad student association has let me make so many cool little differences#I came up with the idea to have my friend come give a talk to our department bc she’s a post doc about to be on the job market#and her talks are kick ass!!! it’s about how to merge feminism with psychology and how to incorporate lesser known research methods#and so I just finished booking her today!!! I get to help a friend AND my community gets an amazing talk!! win win!#my work as a representative on the biological sciences council is going strong and I sent out an inquiry about finding a new rep to join us#and the open letter I sent to my department regarding a lot of drama didn’t just end there#I came up with reasonable changes to the department that could prevent the drama that was caused and brought them to dept leadership#to make things even better I personally reached out to the opposite side and asked to get coffee for us to discuss the recent drama#as a chance for us to mend bridges and align ourselves with concrete goals and making things better#rather than being in opposition to one another#like this year was supposed to be low key. I took on very low effort exec board positions and tried to center other students#but even with that being said I still just. Shine I feel like#like I step up to the plate and get shit done without stepping on toes and really making an impact#idk I’m sorry to ramble like this but I’m just so!!! proud!!!#I was so stuck and aimless for years due to mental health. and I kept fighting. and it feels like I’m really coming out the other side#and it first is being shown with my activism work which is SUCH A HUGE PART OF WHO I AM#and then it’ll bleed into research and academics!!!#which like my academics are actually good now but they’re not to the kick ass levels I’m used to yet so that’ll come#but idk. this quarter I feel really alive again. my med adjustment happened in early Jan and everything is going so much better#I really feel myself slowly coming alive again for the first time since I lived in Philly#I’m just#I’m very proud of me today. I can feel that love for myself coming back and it’s honestly so nice
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irisintheafterglow · 6 months
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blood moonlit, must be counterfeit
summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes. (pro!bakugo x you)
wc: 1.68k
cw/tags: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol
note: NEW HALLOWEEN HEADER BABY also this idea had me by the throat so i needed to write it down before it consumed my entire psyche. i'm back to writing for bakugo again because iykyk and halloween fics are giving me a lot of motivation right now. hope you enjoy!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“I have to admit–your costume is pretty damn good.”
“Yeah? Just ‘pretty good?’”
“Mhmm. Almost looks like the real thing,” you remark, taking another sip of the dangerously sweet jungle juice in your cup. It's an unreadable mix of bad ideas and bold flirtation, perfect for a Halloween party of barely 21 adults. The blonde guy beside you on the worn leather couch tilts his head slightly like he's re-affirming what you just said in his mind. “I think the real Dynamight would be impressed.”
“Would he, now,” he huffs under his breath, mouth curling into an unreadable smirk. He exhales a quick breath of what you think is amusement through his nose, eyes flicking over your body for the umpteenth time since he sat down with you. It makes your face heat up and you casually avert your gaze downward, catching more details of his costume that you didn’t notice before. 
The gauntlets were obviously the star of the arrangement, covered in numerous scratches, burns, and dents that attested to their “battle” usage. The boots were impressive, too, and you wondered how long it took to place every individual orange eyelet over the front of each calf. The cinder block rectangles sitting on his broad shoulders truly looked like real stone, solid like the toned muscle holding them up. It was the domino mask that threw you off the most, though. The guy must have been wearing bright red contacts, or something, because to look so similar to the actual Pro should have been considered a crime. 
“Who’d you come to the party with?”
“Just some friends,” he replies, shrugging an infuriatingly sexy shoulder. His entire look was putting the real Dynamight to shame, in your opinion. He nods upward in the direction of a guy in an equally accurate Deku costume standing with a very convincing Shoto lookalike. “They dared me to wear this and I lost the bet.”
“Must have been some bet, if you’re moping over here like a toddler.” The shrewdness of your words escapes you until they’re already past your lips; thankfully, he just smirks again and leans his head back, resting an arm on the back of the sofa.
“I’ll ignore that you said that, 'cause you're clearly intoxicated” he mutters, shooting you a brutal side-eye. Thanks to the alcohol, though, you’re far from deterred. 
“How gracious,” you chuckle and his smirk gets a little more arrogant. “What was the bet?”
“Some dumb drinking contest. That asswipe in the green can put down more shots than he looks.” He scowls and you fight down the urge to giggle at his bitter expression. He was the only guy you’ve ever seen that could make a grumpy face look hot. The only guy besides Bakugo himself, of course. “I wouldn’t have worn this shit to a party to save my life.”
“What, Dynamight isn’t your favorite Pro?”
“I’m more of an All Might guy,” he replies nonchalantly. He appreciates the classic heroes. Good sign. “If I had to choose a different one, I’d probably say Jeanist.”
“Jeanist is pretty cool. My best friend had a cardboard cutout of Eraserhead in her closet growing up.” He barks out a laugh and it startles you, but a mysterious feeling in your stomach wants to make him do it again. “What do you think of the current gen of heroes?” He hums thoughtfully, running his tongue over his top lip and you swallow back your drool.
“Red Riot’s a good guy. Deku pisses me the fuck off, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Same thing with Pinky and that Half-and-Half asshat. Chargebolt…” His expression turns into a frown so deep you’re worried that Chargebolt killed his family or something heinous like that. 
“What about him?”
“He’s just dumb. If given the choice between his life and a grain of sand, I’d take the sand,” he deadpans and you choke unexpectedly, wincing as your drink travels up the wrong tube and into your nose. His eyes widened in concern, reaching out to pat your back but deciding against it at the last moment. His glove-covered hands hover around you like you’re radioactive matter, carefully watching as you regain your composure. “You good, nerd?” Uses the same vocabulary as the real guy, too. Kind of weird, but I guess we all have our idols. 
“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t expect you to badmouth him like you two were friends from high school or something,” you joke lightheartedly and the guy blinks at you twice before computing what you said. 
“It’s whatever. They’re super fuckin’ easy to read, in any case,” he states with an air of finality and you down the rest of your drink, the dim lighting starting to blur everything around you into a single greenish-orange blob. “What about you? What are your thoughts on the new gen?”
“I can’t make such bold judgments as you, but I do think Dynamight is pretty cool,” you admit, suddenly feeling a little bashful when having the same question turned on you. The truth was, you followed the lives of the heroes a bit too closely than the average person should. It fascinated you so much that you were majoring in Quirk-specific journalism, studying the social and economic consequences of being a Pro. “I think his public persona is an interesting case when compared to other heroes.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’d like to imagine that he’s not always the loud, arrogant, obnoxious piece of shit that the press shows,” you start and narrow your eyes in confusion when he flinches at your description. You continue anyway but choose your words a little more carefully. Probably isn’t good to upset the guy who might have fashioned functioning gauntlets, if the costume truly is accurate. “There’s a side to him that I think the public doesn’t know about and doesn’t care to know about, since it’s easier to understand him as a loudmouth with no sense of manners. I just wonder who that guy is under all the yelling and testosterone.” His silence is deafening and you worry that you somehow offended him, but his tone is so gentle that your assumption becomes an impossibility.
“Seems like you’ve given this guy a great deal of thought,” he says lowly, voice barely audible over the sound of the blaring house music. 
“Well, he is my favorite,” you add quietly, not expecting him to catch what you said. He does, though, and that mischievous smirk returns to his face. Somehow, you two had inched closer together over the course of your conversation, and you were now close enough to smell his cologne. It was something deep and smoky, with a surprise note of sweetness, like caramel. “I’ve been following his hero career since I was in high school.”
“I didn’t take you for a superfan, but I do appreciate your support,” he chuckles and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seriously haven’t figured it out?”
“Figured what out?”
“That I’m Dynamight, stupid. This is my actual costume and those are my actual friends. Hell, I'm paying for this whole shitty party,” he says incredulously, genuinely shocked that you didn’t come to that conclusion already. Your skepticism, however, rears its head and you burst out into rude laughter. 
Dynamight? Yeah, right. More like Dyna-maybe. 
“Excuse me?” He stares at you like you’d grown three heads and your heart drops into your stomach. You must have said your thoughts out loud. Fuck! “You’ve got some nerve, testing the patience of a Pro.” His words, under any other circumstances, would have cut down your pride like a knife. However, his eyes were conveying a different story, one of lust and want and holyshityouwantedhim. “Got anything to say, sweetheart? Or are you gonna just keep gaping like a fuckin’ goldfish?” You abruptly snap your jaw back into place, leaning your head into your hand and smiling in triumph when his gaze again uncontrollably rakes over your body.  
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“See what, gorgeous?”
“That a Pro kisses better than a normal person,” you murmur and his pupils blow to the size of pool balls. He wastes no time, gently but firmly grabbing your chin with two fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. His lips are ridiculously soft and you muster up the courage to bite him softly, heartbeat racing when he groans into your mouth. One arm drapes itself over the back of the couch, the other pulling you as close to him as humanly possible without practically sitting on him. Your hand combs through his hair and the other keeps him on you by the back of his neck.
Right when you run out of breath, he pulls away and swears colorfully at the phone buzzing in his pocket, answering it with one hand while his forearm is still pressed against your lower back. You absentmindedly trace his jawline with a finger while he curses out the person on the other line, eventually chucking the device over his shoulder like it was the last thing he was thinking about. “You need to go somewhere, sweetheart?” He lightly pinches your side at your mockery and you jump, flicking his forehead in defiance. 
“Nah, that was a job for Dynamight. Right now, I guess I’m still fuckin' Dyna-maybe,” he rasps and leans back in to kiss you again but you push his face away, giving him as sober of a look as possible. “What?”
“If you need to go kick ass, then go kick ass. I’m just some random makeout at a party,” you remind him, painfully aware of the sting if he was to leave you alone. His expression contorts into indignancy again but you still try to convince him to alleviate whatever situation he was called in for. “Your job is more important than a hookup.”
“I don’t do hookups, dumbass. I’m interested in you,” he states plainly and your face is set on fire. The Pro, who you just insulted to his face, was interested in you? “So, let’s get out of here, yeah? I can make you dinner that isn’t shitty pizza.” His mouth breaks into a devilish grin and you’re already grabbing onto his hand like your life depended on it. 
“If someone messes with us?”
“It’s a good thing I’m already in costume.” 
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rreids · 7 days
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LUNCH BREAK • A. HOTCHNER X READER
fluff; kisses; they just really love each other; reader gives hotch presents; ~500 words; gifs is just bc he's pretty he's v sweet here
an ask from @cerisereids for my sleepover event. prompts: i got you something; i know, your favorite, right?
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Hotch had been busy lately. More than normal — personnel reviews, psych evals, yearly and quarterly needs all falling in the same two week window –, and he came home exhausted.
You knew you had permission to visit at work and that he’d never turn you away, but you never took him up on it, shy at the idea. Today, you’d decided to brave your fears.
With a gift bag, coffee, and lunch in hand, you braced yourself before the doors to the BAU. You tried not to shrink under the curious stare of his team, other agents, and analysts as they paused in their work to study you, but your steps became more hurried as you made your way to his office.
You couldn’t maneuver your arms to knock, so you just pushed it open. Aaron’s head rises, mouth opening — probably to chide whoever would come in without notice — before pausing, breaking into a grin as you awkwardly shut it behind you. 
“This is a surprise, sweetheart,” he can’t stop smiling, standing and giving you a short kiss before helping settle everything you held on his desk. “Special occasion?”
You shake your head. “Just thought you could use a little pick me up with everything.”
He smiles and kisses your cheek before drawing his chair to sit next to you, fondly studying every plane of your face. “What is all of it?
“Well, coffee — I know you all have a machine, but this is good coffee, not precinct coffee…” his lips quirk up into a smile. “Um, lunch. I got Chinese from this place by home, I hope it’s okay — the fried rice has pineapple! I thought it sounded good.”
He tilts his head and looks pointedly at the bag. “And that?”
Your face burns with heat. “I got you something.”
“Clearly,” he deadpans. “What is it?”
You beam at him. “Open it.”
He sighs but obliges, making a show of pulling out the tissue paper to hear you giggle in delight. His brow furrows as he places the items before he smiles — a new tie, from his favorite brand; a keychain you’d made with a photo with you, him, and Jack; and flowers, red and white roses and lilies. 
“You got me flowers?” His voice is impossibly soft and fond.
“Yeah.”
“They’re so pretty.”
“I know,” you smile. “Your favorite, right?”
He’d never really mentioned that, but when you first started dating you noticed he’d have flowers on his table or on a cabinet, and they were always lilies, roses, or a potted plant of some other variation. But the bouquets didn’t change.
“Yeah. My favorite.”
He leans over to kiss you as he sets the flowers down on his desk, unable to stop smiling. “Can you help me put the tie on?”
You nod and quickly undo the one he’s already in, brow furrowing and your lip tucking between your teeth as you carefully and delicately tie and smooth the fabric over his shirt. “Handsome.”
Aaron smiles. “Let’s eat. It’ll get cold.”
He places his hand on your thigh, a casual intimacy that stays between laughs and conversation for the whole meal.
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please assume that the bau are being nosy as fuck and comment on the new tie after, thank you. i also like to think that even if it wasn't a clear these are my absolute favorite! in regards to the flowers and was more of a i like the look, they're his favorite now.
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tboygareth · 10 months
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got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing
“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”
Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.
“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.
It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own. 
It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.
It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.
But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.
But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.
“It’s nothing, okay?”
“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”
“Steve talks about me?”
“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.
“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”
“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”
“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”
“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.
Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.
“Listen. We are not discussing this.”
Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”
“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”
“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”
“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”
“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”
“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”
“He just… I tell a good story.”
Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”
“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”
“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.
“He has pet names for everybody.”
“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”
“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”
“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”
“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”
“The Eddie smile.”
Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.
Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.
Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling… 
He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.
The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.
But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.
Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.
“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”
“Language, Wheeler.”
“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”
“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”
There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.
“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”
Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.
“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.
“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”
“We were arguing about you.”
“And the good news?”
“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”
That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”
Well. Here goes nothing.
“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”
Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning. 
The Eddie smile.
It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.
“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.
And then he kisses him.
because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something
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milquetoast27 · 6 months
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The Secret of Sherlock Holmes
GRANADA FANS. If you have not heard of this play, NOW IS THE TIME TO HEAR ABOUT IT. I'd been saving it for a rainy night and it was SOO good 😭😭Please allow me to elaborate.
[heads-up, there are no video recordings of it. I listened to the audio and followed along with the script. Not ideal, but still gave me a vivid image of what was happening on-stage.]
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The nuance between screen and stage allows the actors to achieve different effects that are not possible with an on-screen adaptation. Characters do not turn to the camera and just tell you their innermost thoughts, but they can in a stageplay- and it's here that we really get to hear Brett and Hardwicke's ideas about Holmes and Watson- not much of it was unfamiliar as I'd read most of Brett's views in interviews, but it was really cool to get that confirmed in an official production that he worked on. Honestly, Brett had that feeling of "I can fix him" that I think exists in all of us Holmes fans, and totally went for it. The canon (and the Granada series) is rife with subtleties and 'show, don't tell', but it is honestly refreshing for once, to have such powerful emotion depicted dramatically and audaciously on a stage. It is all too often throughout the stories that Holmes and Watson are awfully reticent about their feelings. This play is an explosion of their private thoughts that leads to finally, thankfully, a wonderful reconciliation. I love it so much as it clearly advocates for open communication being a vital factor for a good friendship. There's a good reason for why that never happened in the canon; I think it has a lot to do with the shyness and reticence of the English, and I would not be surprised most particularly with Victorian men. But Holmes and Watson do still have their moments in the canon (e.g. 3GAR & FINA), and it's what makes them stand out so shockingly much in their time.
I appreciate that this play gives us viginettes of Holmes and Watson's life together all the way up to The Final Problem. It not only sets us up for the climax later, but also shows us specifically Brett's Holmes and Hardwicke's Watson. There were changes made from the original stories, and yet felt so wonderfully in-character and flowed really well through the actors. The play exclusively stars Brett and Hardwicke, and the purpose of redoing scenes from the canon, such as STUD, NAVA, or CHAS was to highlight the status in their relationship, for example Holmes's displeasure at Watson's marriage and subsequent loneliness- important scenes that communicate Holmes's dependence on Watson. These small glimpses also give us the much-needed humour for any balanced Holmes production! It not only communicates the warm and light moments that they shared, but also helps us get more invested in this particular pair on the stage, which is still vital, even if we're already attached to the characters.
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The implications that arise from Brett's portrayal of Holmes is fascinating. He admits that he'd have been dead within two years without Watson, without the indispensible role he played in controlling his addiction and mental state. He admits of the lonely and awful childhood he shared with his brother. The fact that Holmes comes forward and tells us this himself suggests he is very psychologically aware of himself and how his mind works. He understands why he has addictions, the reasons for his barriers and difficulty with emotional vulnerability. Assuming Holmes is very interested in the criminal psyche, but also his own due to his eccentricities, it makes so much sense that he would psychoanalyse himself to this degree, but also be frustrated with how little he is able to move from his rigid mindset. This interpretation works so wonderfully for Brett's Holmes, and I am so glad for this portrayal he has given us. When it comes to canon Holmes, however, I feel that this is more likely to be unconscious. I can never shake how much of Brett is actually within his Holmes. While his comes close to the original, I still see them as separate people. Granada's adaptation tends to play up Holmes's melancholy/depression a little too far for me, like a far-away, mythical creature that can never be understood, because we never get much of an opportunity to see what he really feels (perhaps Eligible Bachelor or Master Blackmailer might come close). But I feel that almost defeats the character. To me, Holmes is flawed and troubled, but he is simply human. The Secret of Sherlock Holmes portrays this fact wonderfully, because all of those feelings are rising to the surface.
We move further into speculation, but I think Brett's Holmes has also a fairly healthy understanding of the difference between social constructs and necessities, which take more importance in a queer/neurodivergent reading of him. He understands that his upbringing was due to an "accepted convention", and we see time and again how Holmes disregards social conventions or constructs and does his own thing. It's why he gets frustrated at others for not understanding him, but also accepts that it will never come easily to people. That's why he's very lucky for Watson (and Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade!) :)
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Holmes's darker emotions, and Watson's fierce devotion are displayed most prominently throughout. When Watson comments on Holmes's childhood, Holmes lies about it, woeing internally over how much he conceals, to even someone as close to him as Watson. He privately shares his desire to be "found out", because sharing his feelings to Watson is too difficult. His friend takes his word for it, appreciative of the times Holmes is able to speak frankly about himself. Holmes wants to be open, and Watson wants to listen, but it's Holmes's barriers preventing it. This feeling and experience is so raw and human, and something I would imagine would resonate with many people.
The latter half of the play focuses primarily on Holmes's cocaine addiction. Pastiche writers really like that sore spot, huh. Watson's perceptiveness and powers of observation are on full force in this play. Watson can tell when Holmes is high (as a medical man, most likely), and even deduced that Holmes may still be living by Mycroft's body language. But when it came to Holmes's return from the Great Hiatus...
Something that canon Watson seems to completely forget is his anger towards Holmes. In the story, he is so star-struck and relieved that he barely considers any other feeling. Hardwicke does briefly touch on this in the Granada episode with "I thought I would be as trustworthy as your brother," but it really doesn't go further than that. In The Secret of Sherlock Holmes, Hardwicke goes FULL FORCE. This is what we needed!!! It was a powerful, hair-raising performance. When Holmes has clearly not understood the harm he has done, Watson leaves. Actually slams the door. And when he returns, he makes it very clear to Holmes why he is hurt. And yet, his devotion remains, for when Holmes starts explaining his creation of Moriarty, it takes a while before Watson is fully convinced. Watson is extremely compassionate and empathetic, yes, but he's also very grounded and level-headed, and he must draw the line somewhere. It doesn't take him long to forgive Holmes, but he knows his anger has a place in that room, and allows it to be. I appreciate that it's taken just as seriously as Holmes's troubles.
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The only reason either Holmes or Watson are able to communicate so finely with each other- even through shouting and crying- is because of their emotional awareness. It's what makes their relationship work, because they are both aware of how much they mean to each other. When they move past the difficulty of sharing such feelings, their bond grows stronger.
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theprettynosferatu · 8 months
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CW: Orientation play/conversion. Remember that your sexuality is valid, and conversion is NOT a thing beyond fantasy. Also, fuck "conversion therapy"
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“All I’m saying is…”
“Look, you’re speaking out of your ass”, Ava said, barely containing her frustration.
“How am I speaking out of my ass? It has been done and thoroughly…”, he tried to reply.
“Yes, yes, Pavlov, blah blah blah. But you’re talking about something else entirely, not conditioning reactions”
“Not Pavlov, Skinner! Actions can be conditioned too. Look around you! Mobile games, casinos, even the goddamn army uses conditioning to…”
“Can we agree that there’s a difference between conditioning obedience in a controlled setting and whatever the fuck it is you’re suggesting? You’re not talking about tapping on impulse to buy funbucks in a game! You are talking…”
“It’s only a difference of degree, not of kind. With the right combination of techniques…”
“No, there’s a core there that you can’t just… overwrite. Some things can’t be changed. Like… like how you can’t hypnotize someone into doing something they would never do”
“You know that’s bullshit, right? The whole hypnosis thing. You absolutely can make someone do whatever the fuck you want. It’s just a matter of how you approach it. Like, you would never harm a person, okay? But if I change what your idea of ‘person’ is, say, by making it more narrow you would absolutely harm someone I made you see as a not-person. Or maybe you can be made to believe you’re helping them, not harming them”
“That’s some creepy cult shit, dude. And anyway you can’t write a paper on this because a) there’s no evidence and b) doing the research to get evidence would be absolutely immoral. So I say look for another topic and for the love of God don’t go around spewing that bullshit if you want to ever get laid. Oh, speaking of! Linda will be arriving shortly and we have a date night, so please, please try to be a normal roommate and not freak her out. For me, okay?”
“When have I ever freaked her out? Linda loves me! And who knows, maybe she has an opinion on our little debate”
“Dude, she’s an Art student. I doubt she’ll be interested in our weird Psych dissertations”
“Perfect! Fresh eyes!”
“See, that’s the kind of weird shit I-”
The buzzer cut through the air, and a moment later Linda was inside the apartment, all smiles as usual. He took a moment to watch them as they embraced. 
They were almost comical in their contrast. Linda was tall, taller than he was, willowy and slender, her limbs graceful and shapely, her hair a long, flowing river of playful copper that almost seemed to dance on its own volition– with her green sundress she appeared to him as some sort of elven princess ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel and stuck into a mortal world in which she didn’t really fit. Ava, on the other hand, was probably the shortest adult he had ever seen. He might be tempted to call her petite, but that had a connotation of a lithe frame, almost like a tastefully proportioned doll. Ava was the complete opposite of that. Sometimes he felt Ava was an experiment aimed at testing how much of a person’s weight could be tits and ass, held up by strong, thick thighs. He felt quite guilty about such thoughts, and he understood why she wore nothing but oversized t-shirts and hoodies. It was logical: an early, spectacular growth spurt, heightened by her small size, had made her the target of relentless bullying by jealous classmates and awkward come-ons by hormonal teen males. It enraged him, he realized. Ava was beautiful and the cruelty of idiots had made her feel pain about it instead of pride. He made a point to never stare at her, even if he sometimes failed. It made their relationship as roommates a tad hard, he had to admit. 
 
Not that he had a shadow of a shot, of course. Ava had no interest in men.
Unless, of course, he was right in his theory. And he had good reason to think he was.
“So, Linda: Ava and I were having a bit of a debate…”
“Don’t start, dude”, said Ava.
“Oh, a debate! Do tell!” chirped Linda.
“Do you think we can be completely conditioned and changed, or is there some part of us that cannot be modified, no matter what?”
“Huh. Hard one. Like… a soul? I don’t know I buy it. I feel there isn’t really a self, you know? Like… Buddhism. The self is an illusion and all that”
“Come on, you can’t be serious! You can’t change who someone fundamentally is, and it’s sick to even consider it!”, said Ava.
“Well… what if I could prove to you it can be done?”, he stated, barely able to hold back. He know what he was going to do. He had been reluctant, but now it felt like a certainty.
“You can’t, so stop being an ass”, said Ava.
Fine. Game on.
“Linda, I love your socks! Pride socks!”
“Yup!”, said Linda
“What the hell–”, mumbled Ava.
He took a deep breath.
“Linda: rainbow socks…”
She replied in an instant.
“Are for sucking cocks!”
Ava felt as if reality had shifted into some horrible, twisted nightmare. She was about to scream something, anything really, to make Linda take that back before something stopped her in her tracks. Her body heard it before her mind did: her roommate's voice simply commanding her. Watch. 
And she watched. She watched as the love of her life smiled and went on her knees. Ava could do nothing but watch in disbelief and pain. Linda had never been with a man. Ever. 
“I might have… started testing my theories. On you both. Not that you’d remember, obviously”, he stated casually as the beautiful girl in front of him lovingly undid his pants. “I’d say Linda’s sexuality is part of her core self, wouldn’t you? Let’s see how that holds up after the months of conditioning I’ve subjected her to”
He felt guilty, sure; but there was such a high to it, such an entrancing quality to the combination of seeing instant, complete obedience and the final, definitive proof of the truth he had known to be right all along. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? Not at the moment. Ava’s eyes were a poem to him. Suddenly he was ripped from his reverie by the soft, loving touch of Linda’s tongue on his dick. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten hard just from the sense of complete power, of total, undeniable conquest. This was a primal, ancient arousal. Ava could do nothing but watch, and he took that sight in. God, he could almost taste it.
Linda moaned. The cock was so beautiful. So perfect. She felt so… silly, like she was now, for the first time, seeing in color and realizing the sky was, in fact, blue. It was obvious. Simple. Natural. Cock deserved worship. Cock deserved devotion. Cock demanded obedience. It was as if it was growing in her mind, taking over more and more of her, pushing who she had been out effortlessly. It expanded. It corrupted. It twisted and shifted all within. Cock. Cock. Cock. She kissed it with reverence, in awe of it. It was all that existed to her. All that mattered. She needed to please it. Needed to feel it throbbing inside her. Needed to be taken by it.
Ava saw her girlfriend slide a hand between her legs and felt nauseous. As much as she knew this wasn’t Linda’s fault, she could feel her heart breaking, her anger rising… and worse, her pussy getting wet. Her body betraying her. She hated him, and she hated Linda, and she hated herself most of all.
Suddenly, Linda couldn’t contain herself. She relaxed her throat, looked up at her Master and took his entire manhood inside her mouth. She almost came instantly. It was peaceful and sexy and just simple, like his cock was the puzzle piece that fit her perfectly, completed her, made her whole. She existed to be conquered, and realizing she was putting his pleasure over her ability to breathe was the final sign of her complete, loving surrender. She let it out, watched it glisten with her spit, and started licking it and loving it and she didn’t know how much came from her own need and how much it was a silent command by the man who had shown her the light. Her mind was too fuzzy to make such distinctions anymore.
He took a deep breath, fighting back the first signs of an orgasm. He needed to make a point.
“Linda… do you love Ava?”
The blonde stopped for a moment, shocked by a myriad of contradictions.
“Yes”, she decided. Her voice was shaking.
“Tell her”
Linda looked at Ava, the woman she had loved above all others.
“I love you…”
“But you have more to say, don’t you?”
“I… hmph… I…”
“Tell her”
“I love you… but… but… I love his cock so much more! Fuck! I need it! I need to feel it, to suck it, to be fucked by it… I’m sorry… but… I love it, I love it, I love it! I want it to fuck my throat, to take my cunt, to ram my ass! I need it! I need to be a slave to it, a whore for it, a fucking living toy!”
“What if you had to choose between Ava and my cock?”
“Fuck her! Sorry, my love… I do love you, but… You can never do to me what… what Master does to me, what his cock makes me feel! I hope I won’t have to dump you but… I would leave you for this cock in a minute! I’d do anything. Anything. Anything!” If she had more to add, her need to serve cock snuffed it. She took it all in with desperation, with total, shameless abandon. She needed to feel... used. In her proper place.
Ava felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her knees buckled in defeat. She didn’t even care. It was all gone. Her life, her love, all gone. And she could feel her eyes drawn again and again to the cock that had destroyed her. She felt her mouth watering.
“Linda, would you say you’re a lesbian?”
“Fuck no!”, she said before immediately wrapping her lips around the cock’s head.  
He felt a swell of pride. Of triumph. He knew Ava sensed the truth as well. He was right. He had proven his point. And now Ava’s full conditioning would take hold. A little bet with himself, making her own mental acknowledgment of his theory her final trigger. She took off her t-shirt. She would never wear it again. No more shame, no more pain about her figure. Only arousal and pride. His gift to her.
She crawled to him on all fours. The girls kissed– but now, they kissed for him, to arouse him. They were lovers, only they both knew there was a higher love. A truer love. Ava looked up at her owner and opened her mouth, greedily awaiting his blessing. Linda used her skillful hands, aiming his cock and teasing it, jacking it off, using just the right amount of pressure and speed. 
No man could resist such a sight.
In a few seconds, Ava was covered in his cum, more beautiful than she had ever been. Linda certainly felt that way, and she licked and kissed her sister slut clean.
He watched carefully, looking for signs of defiance, and finding none. In fact, Linda put his fears to rest with a simple statement.
“Ava, we need to buy you a pair of rainbow socks”
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danaewrites · 4 months
Text
you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)
part ii: i wanna hear you speak to me
james potter x reader // read it on AO3
word count: 3.6k
summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”
tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader
author's notes: new year, new chapter! i started writing this one back in SEPTEMBER and finally had enough time away from the terrors of calculus homework to finish it. thanks for reading my story so far and i hope you enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent chapter, because i had way too much fun writing it!! i promise that the angst in this chapter *will* be resolved, but it was too deliciously tempting to resist sprinkling a wee bit of hurt/comfort and dramatics in there as well. sorry not sorry!
read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)
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“I’ve got no bloody clue how Dumbledore can be so energetic all the time,” you groaned, head in your hands as you peeked out at the headmaster’s more-than-slightly manic grin from your seat at the Gryffindor breakfast table. You were far too sleep-deprived to process his latest choice of garish attire: a bright chartreuse robe covered in plaid polka dots, topped off with what appeared to be rhinestones and tinsel attached to his beard.
Perhaps if Kettleburn hadn’t assigned you three feet of parchment on the seventeen glorious properties of dragon dung yesterday and expected it done by this afternoon, you might have appreciated the headmaster’s creative fashion choices– oh, who were you kidding. There really was no understanding that wizard, even properly rested. James and Peter had made a bet during fifth year on how long it’d take Dumbledore to crack under a constant deluge of pranks in his office, but they’d quickly realized that the man was too far gone to do anything but take inspiration for school events– an idea that was quite frankly, comically frightening, and the sort of thing you weren’t keen on pondering on a normal Tuesday morning.
Sirius wrinkled his nose sympathetically and slid the pile of raspberry jam tarts closer to you. “Late night in the library again?”
You nodded sheepishly, gratefully taking a pastry from the pile. “I honestly don’t know why Pince allows me to stay past curfew. Marauder’s luck, I guess?” Your attention was diverted by the sound of hoots and flapping wings as the morning owl brigade arrived, apparently choosing a kamikaze dive-bomb approach to deliver this morning’s newspapers. Ah, the joys of living at the world’s most advanced magical school.
Sirius, ever the epitome of grace, slipped under the table as a rogue owl zipped past, popping himself back up just enough to throw you finger guns. “Exactly right, doll, exactly right,” he grinned. “Trust me, Marauder’s luck gets you everywhere. And I mean everywhere,” he winked, sending you a lecherous smirk.
“Ew, Sirius, I don’t even want to know,” you sniffed. “I’ve learned my lesson after the mental trauma your tales of Dorcas’ birthday adventures inflicted upon my psyche. Please, spare me the details.”
“What? All I meant was Slughorn’s Christmas Party, of course!” He batted his eyelashes angelically, still partially covered by the tablecloth.
Your mouth gaped open in shock. “Last year’s Christmas party? Sirius Orion Black, I refuse to hear another word! What on earth would your ancestors think, with you bragging about such exploits-”
He leaned over, eyes wide with laughter. “No, I meant the one Slughorn is throwing on the 21st, it’s exclusively for us lucky seventh years this time. Although, you bring up some very fond memories… okay, okay, I’ll stop, don’t kick me–”
“What are we kicking Sirius for?” James slid onto the bench across from you, eyeing a groveling Sirius with interest. Peter joined him, but wisely chose to stay away from the ruckus, piling his plate high with the bacon the owls had spared. Remus was noticeably absent, spending the morning resting in the infirmary after a rough night of shifting– which you assumed was much more peaceful than the current chaos at the Gryffindor breakfast table.
“Oh! Good morning, Jamie,” you beamed up at him, passing him the plate of desserts you’d been protecting from Sirius’ nefarious advances. “Morning, dove,” he greeted you, and then paused. “Ha, get it? Morning dove?” He puffed up his chest smugly and nudged Sirius with his elbow in a futile effort to make him laugh. You huffed fondly at his antics. Boys.
Sirius rolled his eyes and took advantage of your momentary distraction, retreating back onto his seat to nurse his wounds– to your ever-growing delight (and Sirius’ woe), you had recently discovered that the Hogwarts girls’ uniform shoes were quite sharp. “At this point we should call you Lames. ‘Cause your puns are lame,” he muttered.
You shooed him away with a brush of your hand, remembering what Sirius had mentioned earlier. “According to Sirius, Slughorn’s hosting a Christmas Party again this year. Let’s pray it won’t be like the last one.” You muttered. James and Peter both looked vaguely ill at the prospect, shuddering in unison. “My tie will never look the same again,” Peter griped, but suddenly sat up straight in his seat. “Hey, wait, we’re finally old enough to bring dates to this one! Without sneaking them in, I mean.” 
Sirius snickered and lightly punched his shoulder. “Why, Petey, got some lucky girl in mind?” Peter reddened and glanced over at the Hufflepuff table, where a certain freckled blonde was chatting with her friends– a move that didn’t go unnoticed by James, who gave a delighted wolf-whistle. “You got a thing for Lucy Abbott, huh? Might want to make a move before Smith does,” he grinned, gesturing to the tall brunette boy who’d just arrived and sharing a knowing smirk with you. You giggled at Peter’s increasingly pouty expression; he’d figure out sooner or later that Smith was definitely not interested in Abbott– or witches in general– but it was entertaining to see him out of his comfort zone. Peter had always been the quietest of your little group, and you privately thought that a bit of momentary romantic angst might spur him to be more assertive. An ironic opinion, considering how your own love life revolved around the fact that your best friend had feelings for someone else… and you couldn’t do anything about it except mope.
Peter scowled. “Easy for you to say, Prongs, you’ve finally got precious Lily-flower wrapped around your finger. I bet you’ve already asked her!”
There it was: another reminder that James wasn’t yours, and never would be. You watched as the Gryffindor boys good-naturedly jostled his shoulder and tousled his curls. James grinned sheepishly, shrugging off their teasing. “Not yet,” he admitted, glancing hopefully at the end of the table, where Lily was chatting with her friends. 
Peter rolled his eyes. “Aw, come on, we all know she’ll say yes this year.” Sirius winced, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. Peter glanced at Sirius, drawn by the movement. “What’ve you got to worry about? Half the population would kill Dumbledore to get one dance with you. The only person who’s got to worry about a date is me– well, and maybe Y/n, I guess.” His face suddenly turned contemplative, looking you up and down. “Are you going with someone?” 
Sirius’ grimace became doubly pronounced at Peter’s tactlessness, and you felt your face heating up. Peter had a way of accidentally hitting on the issues others tried to hide. It wasn’t his fault he’d never heard about your trips to Hogsmeade with a paramour– in fact, none of the boys had. Because there hadn’t been any. You’d spent your entire time at Hogwarts pining after James, and as a result had missed the romantic milestones your classmates had already blissfully bragged about. 
Peter looked at you expectantly, waiting for a response, and you opened your mouth to confess your lack of experience when you spotted a familiar redhead walking gracefully towards your side of the table– to James, you realized with a start. Something within you ignited as you watched her glow with confidence, carefree and lovely as ever. Lily would never pine after someone uselessly; she knew she could get anyone she wanted with the right amount of banter and flirty gestures. You... Well, you weren’t there quite yet, but maybe it was time to take inspiration from the Muggle saying and ‘fake it til you make it’. And before you could think about what you were about to do, you turned to Peter and smiled coyly. “I might.”
James’ and Sirius’ heads snapped up immediately from their perusal of the breakfast lineup as they let out an identical murmur of surprise. “What?” James furrowed his brow, looking you up and down– seemingly trying to discern whether you had taken a holiday from your senses, most likely via Bludger-induced concussion at the last Quidditch match. Sirius merely raised a questioning eyebrow at you. You groaned internally, knowing that you’d have to explain yourself later… although, if your half-baked idea worked, you’d be spending a lot more time with him anyway. For now, you beamed innocently at both of them and took a sip of your pumpkin juice. Apparently, the Sorting Hat had placed you in Gryffindor for a reason- you were either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish to commit to this plan, but with Evans quickly approaching, you saw no other choice.
Peter looked momentarily shocked, then glumly began to assemble an egg and bacon sandwich seasoned with the occasional mutterance of “unfair” and “perpetually single, my arse”.
James’ eyes were still trained on you. “Who is it?” he asked, searching your face again as if he was looking for some indication that you were joking. You shrugged, trying to look casual. “I guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”
“Dove-” he began, but Lily finally reached his seat and placed one stupidly perfect hand on his shoulder, diverting his attention momentarily. “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but Professor McGonagall asked me to bring you to her office for Quidditch scheduling.” James blinked, glancing up at her and then at the rest of the table. He stood up and focused on you again, expression clouded. “I’ll see you in Potions, yeah?”
Sirius stood up quickly, ushering him out of his seat with a speed you’d only seen him use to gulp down cheap Firewhiskey. He gave you a significant look. “Actually, Y/n and I were just about to take a walk, isn’t that right? So we'll both see you in Potions, what a sublime coincidence, now don’t be late for your meeting–” he chattered on as he shoved James toward the doors of the Great Hall, the latter eyeing him suspiciously but moving nonetheless. Sirius turned to you and pointed to the courtyard entryway. “You. Me. Talk, as in right now.”
Once you were sure that you’d made it out of earshot of Peter and the rest of the Gryffindor table, you wheeled around to face him. “Okay. First of all… I didn’t plan that.” Sirius raised an eyebrow again. “Second of all, I need a favour,” you pleaded, staring up at him with the most adorable doe eyes you could physically summon. They were usually most effective on James, for some reason, but you were sure that Sirius wasn’t immune to your manipulation either. He groaned, resting his face in his hands. “How do you even have a date? Last time I checked, also known as yesterday, you were still head over heels for Prongsie, doll. So do I need to check you for Amortentia or somethi–” He peered out from between his fingers with annoyed realization. “You don’t have a date, do you.” 
You blinked innocently up at him. He let out a long-suffering sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “This is what you need the favour for? You want me to go with you to Slughorn’s party so you can pretend in front of the rest of Hogwarts that you’re not madly in love with Jamie?” 
You grinned confidently up at him and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Aw, Siri, you know me so well. It’s almost as if you were maaaade to be my date for the party...” You fluttered your eyelashes up at him one more time for good measure, trying to hide a smirk. “Alright, alright, stop with the Bambi act, I’ll take you.” He scowled good-naturedly. “You know, this is going to ruin my dating pool for the next month.” 
You scoffed. “As if! If anything, you’ll just have more people fawning over you– temptation of the forbidden apple and all, you know.” 
Sirius brightened up considerably at this revelation. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the beginning, doll! I vote that we match in purple velvet, it does wonders for my complexion–”
You gave a very unladylike snort at the thought of you and Sirius swanning into the party in some sort of horrendous plum-coloured disco getup, and shooed him away towards the Potions classroom. That was an eyesore to imagine sometime when you weren’t about to get a headache from the dim dungeon lighting.
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Slughorn greeted you and Sirius by directing you to the front of the classroom with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oho, a pair of latecomers, I see!” He winked at you and Sirius in exaggerated motion. You winced as Snape jeered and nudged Malfoy, who was busy enjoying Flint’s crude gestures at you. Ugh, Slytherin boys. The worst of the lot. Their snickers were quickly stopped by James chucking a handful of powdered wormwood at their heads when Slughorn turned away, making Malfoy’s prized hair appear covered in soot. You shot him a grateful smile. 
“Since you two missed my initial remarks, let’s see if you can make it up by identifying today’s potion, hmm?” Slughorn gestured dramatically to a shimmering green brew in a cauldron next to his desk, cherry-coloured smoke curling off of the top invitingly. 
Sirius shot you a panicked look, clearly not expecting to be put in the academic spotlight, but you shook your head and stepped closer. You smelled something rich and incense-like, which meant that Bumburrel leaves were a key ingredient. And combined with the way the smoke was drifting lazily around your wrists, curling higher and higher… “Brew of Mandelian, sir. Used for sharpened acuity under times of pressure.”
Slughorn gave a delighted chuckle and clapped his hands. “Well then! Ten points to Gryffindor for paying attention in lectures!” He dismissed you and Sirius with a wave, moving on to explain the finer points of ingredient preparation to a very bemused George Goyle as you slipped into your usual seat beside James.
You worked in quiet harmony for a moment, methodically slicing and crushing the slippery beetles needed to give the brew its signature green colour while James handed you the insects. He broke the silence after six beetles (not that you had been counting or anything) with an awkward, “So… you have a, erm, date?”
You huffed, motioning for him to hand you the foul-smelling Moorish tubers next. “Honestly, James, is it that surprising?” He scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “Well, I– yeah, I guess.” he trailed off, seeing your expression. 
“The tubers, Jamie, thank you. I mean, you looked at me like I was a ghost back in the Great Hall!” You were decidedly not making eye contact with him, trying your best to focus on the slimy plants in front of you and not the fact that your best friend-slash-unrequited crush doubted your romantic potential. What a way to be humbled– and while covered in tuber juice, no less!
He huffed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “Come on, Y/n, it’s not like that. What did Sirius want to talk about in the Great Hall, anyway? You two looked… chummy.” 
You glared down at the copper slicing board. “Well, it’s none of your business how chummy we are, is it? I don’t interrogate you every time you converse with Peter. In fact, it’s rather expected that Sirius and I speak to one another on occasion, considering the amount of time we all spend together thanks to you.”
You moved to grab another tuber from the jar, but James reached out and grabbed your hand, forcing you to look at him. His hazel eyes were alight with frustration, a look you knew by heart thanks to the hours you’d spent tutoring him in History of Magic after he napped his way through the entire first semester. “Are you serious? You’re actually going with someone?”
“Please, Jamie, do enlighten me on whyever you think I couldn’t possibly get a date with my numerous and diverse charms,” you sniffed, hoping to Merlin that he would just leave the entire subject alone. 
“No, it’s–” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “The other boys, they don’t know how– you’re so, I mean, just look at you!” he exclaimed, gesturing at you. He stopped, frowning to himself, looking more confused than before. He glanced over at Lily, expression becoming even more muddled, brow furrowed and hard to read to anyone but you. 
Your mouth parted in shock, and to your dismay you felt tears bubbling up again. You blinked fiercely, refusing to let him see you cry. James thought the issue was… your looks? You suddenly wanted to crawl under Slughorn’s desk and never come out again, except perhaps to find a shovel to dig your grave with. This was far, far worse than watching him transfigure chocolates for Lily every Valentine’s Day. Now you knew for a fact he didn’t find you attractive– thought other boys didn’t either, even! And the way he’d clearly mentally compared you to Lily after what he’d admitted… well. There was no recovering from that. Teenage boys could be dense, but Merlin, how you had wanted him to at least let you down gently. 
You wished you’d never opened your mouth to lie about having a stupid date in the first place, but you forced yourself to laugh and mutter something trite about how that could all be fixed with a couple glamour charms anyway so it really wasn’t an issue for the party, thank you very much. He looked even more confused, opening his mouth to respond, but Snape chose that moment to interrupt.
“Hey, Potter!” James turned to scowl at the greasy Slytherin as you thanked your lucky stars for Snape’s interruption (a rather disturbing thought– potentially a harbinger of an imminent apocalypse. You’d never thanked Snape before in your life and hoped to never do it again). “Here’s payback for earlier,” he smirked, checking that Slughorn had dozed off and the other students weren’t paying attention before whipping a mottled yellow bottle at James.
James’ carefully honed Quidditch reflexes kicked in and he quickly dodged the object, but as the vial soared up, up, past your carefully diced tubers, over James’ messy notes, it hit your arms and shattered. You flinched in pain, crying out as the glass shards embedded themselves in your arm and the congealing, repulsive liquid dripped down your hands and onto your thighs. James lunged towards you, but it was too late– the potion had already seeped into your skin, causing an awful sparking sensation. 
You gasped, grabbing onto the desk as the feeling bubbled upwards. “Jamie, I don’t– I don’t feel–” you stuttered, suddenly lightheaded, and you heard someone gasp as you began to taste something metallic. You absently touched your nose. Why was it so cold and wet? You had been so careful not to touch your face around those horrid tubers and oh, oh Merlin and Morgana what was that pain in your hands and legs, please no make it go away someone help me help me HELP
You vaguely registered someone whimpering in the background. It might have been you, but you weren’t entirely sure what was happening outside of the electric symphony of agony crescending in your nervous system. The pain built swirled flooded through until you weren’t sure where you ended and the potion began which was a funny thought because of course you were you, but you couldn’t remember who you were before this so you laughed but that really hurt, oh how that hurt no no no no no bad idea–  
“Fuck– no–” James? Was he here too?
You blinked– when did your eyes open?– and saw him reach for you, frantically pushing his dark curls off his forehead. Why would he do that? You loved his hair, even when you were feeling funny awful things from the potion. You felt his arms scoop under you, lifting you off your seat as he caught your head from falling back. You heard a door slam open, footsteps, darkness clouding your vision–
His voice. “Sweetheart, no– don’t do that, I need you to keep your eyes open.”
You blinked again, trying to focus on James’ face. He looked pale, jaw set and tensed like it was before his Quidditch games. Were you moving? You couldn’t tell whether James was walking or the hallways were walking around you. He glanced down again, exhaling with relief once he saw whatever he was looking for. “Yeah, just like that. Keep those pretty eyes focused on me, okay?” 
He thought your eyes were pretty? 
James gave a tight laugh. “Yeah, I think your eyes are pretty, dove. Hold on a bit longer, we’re almost there,” he choked out. 
Oh. Had you said that out loud?
But you thought– he had said something, before, you couldn’t remember now but it was important and it hurt–
Some part of you, deep where the potion hadn’t reached, had melted at his words. That part was tinged with pain, too, but in a different way, raw and honest and hopeful and all for him. Or maybe that was the potion, you were pretty sure witches weren’t supposed to melt unless they were green and lived somewhere much further west, but your thoughts on the whole process evaporated as you reached a white door and a woman and your words started to swirl until they melted too and everything went black.
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nolita-fairytale · 10 months
Text
burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter five
summary: you and luca finally talk about what happened the night of the ballet -- and finally have a chance to clear the air.
warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.
word count: 3k
a/n: let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!
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part four | masterlist | part six
You’ve been avoiding his calls all day. 
After Luca bid you goodnight on Thursday, you’d practically sprinted upstairs and into your apartment, slamming the door behind you while wondering what the hell was wrong with you?
You’re too stubborn for your own good, you think to yourself, recalling the moment – the one where you could’ve kissed him but you didn’t – between you and Luca. You stood there, too paralyzed to make a move, yet unable and unwilling to walk away from him. 
Luca had given you space most of yesterday, save for a text later in the evening, but the fact that today is Saturday, the day he almost always comes into the restaurant, is not lost on you. Instead of dealing with it, you’ve been hyper focused all day, choosing to bury your head in work as you run lunch service with Mathilde, more than grateful that business has run at a steady pace today. 
It’s not until you hit a stop, forced to pause after a few hours in between the lunch and dinner rush, reaches a lull. Your brain is suddenly inundated with too many thoughts: was this it? Had you scared him away forever? Did he think you were a total freak considering you’d practically run away from him after he’d said goodnight?
“So are we going to talk about it?” Mathilde presses you, ripping you out of your thoughts with the sound of her voice. You look her way, noticing that her lips pursed in sheer annoyance at your avoidance mechanisms. 
Your face falls, unable to carry this solo for much longer, letting out a sigh of resignation because you know she’s right. 
You can’t run from this – from your feelings, from Luca – forever. 
“Yeah,” you give in. “Yeah, okay.”
“What the hell happened?” Mathilde hisses as she approaches you. “I mean, he’s gorgeous, he’s cultured… he took you out to the ballet, and you like him!”
“I don’t know,” you huff, disappointedly. “I just-, I think I got too caught up in my head. It’s like one minute I was really jazzed at the idea of being on a date, let alone a date with Luca, and the next I’m just… I don’t know… totally psyching myself out and pushing him away.”
“Merde,” she swears in French this time. 
“Fuck,” you sigh, at least releasing a little of the pent up pressure you’ve been holding onto all day. 
“Babe, I know that holding all of this,” she begins, gesturing wildly towards you, “gives you a certain edge in the kitchen… but I can’t imagine it’s good for you.”
You send her another look – one that says ‘fuck off because I know you’re right’ this time. 
“I don’t know what to do, Mathilde,” you confess, your eyes pleading with her for some advice. 
She turns to you, this time with a much more serious expression as she says, “Luca seems like a really great guy. Maybe you should just tell him all of this.” 
You nod slowly as you process. It’s not that you haven’t thought about it – it’s not like it’s a new concept to you – you were married once, after all. But the idea of being vulnerable like that, showing someone new your whole hand feels really scary. You know it’s the thing you need to do; it’s the kindest, most honest option that you have – and you know that Luca deserves just that: kindness, transparency, the truth. 
As you continue to think it over, the only words that come to you are:
“I told him that I wasn’t in love with him anymore – with Joe. When he asked.”
“Luca?”
“Yeah.”
“It wasn’t a lie. Was it?” Mathilde questions you carefully. 
You share your head, growing more and more certain in your answer. 
“No, of course not. It’s not that. My hesitation has never been about Joe. It’s-, it’s about me…” you explain, finding the right words in the moment. “... about my heart.”
Mathilde places a gentle hand on your shoulder as you share a knowing look as she listens.
“What if I do this? I mean, what if I jump… and it’s a horrible mess… and I ruin a good thing with a really great guy because I’m not ready?” you ask, shining a light on your biggest fears. 
She takes a beat, thinking it over, before crossing her arms over her chest, as the two of you stand side by side, leaning up against a stainless steel prep station. 
“Then you do,” she answers, as if it were that simple. “And you figure out the rest. You’re only human after all.” 
You chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes at Mathilde’s not-so-friendly reminder. 
“Here’s an idea,” she starts back up again, catching your attention as you glance sideways to look at her. “What if you jump? And it’s the best thing you’ve ever done? What if it’s worth it?” 
You take a deep breath, letting her words sink in, letting yourself feel the possibility that this could also be the best thing you’ve ever done too. But before you can say anything in response, Jesper comes back into the kitchen, calling for you. 
“Hate to break up the slumber party, ladies, but can I borrow you for a moment, Chef?” he asks, making it clear that he’s talking to you. You and Mathilde exchange glances as Jesper nods through the open kitchen to where Luca waits for you in the dining room. You open your mouth to say something, but instead, you just nod, murmuring a ‘yeah, of course,’ quick to follow Jesper out of the kitchen. 
It’s impeccable timing, really, you think to yourself, that you were just contemplating the possibility that this could be something you could do. 
You could jump, you remind yourself, if you really wanted to. 
“Hi,” you say, barely above a whisper as soon as you see Luca. 
“Hi,” he smiles warmly in return, causing Jesper to look from you to Luca, then back to you again. 
“I’m just gonna-,” he starts, searching for an excuse. 
Only, he doesn’t have one, so Jesper simply excuses himself before disappearing into the kitchen to find a place where he and Mathilde both can pretend to do something when really eavesdropping. 
Jesper’s abrupt and clumsy exit seems some of the palpable tension, earring a laugh from both you and Luca. 
“I thought-,” he begins as you simultaneously say, “I’ve been meaning to call-.”
“Sorry,” he says with an apologetic half smile. 
“No I’m-. You go first,” you encourage, blushing on a little as the two of you clumsily dance around each other. 
Luca takes a breath, reminding himself that it wouldn’t be this weird if there wasn’t something between the two of you – that he hasn’t been imagining this – not even a little bit. 
“I hope that it’s okay. That I’m here,” he finally says, his voice steady and even. 
“I-, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” you ask him, suddenly insecure about the fact that he felt he needed to ask in the first place. 
“I just-, well I thought ehm, maybe you’d need some space. I didn’t want to ehm, you know… show up here if-, even though it’s Saturday because it is your place and I wouldn’t want-,” Luca tries to explain, stopping and starting again and again. 
“Luca, no I-,” you say, before pausing, swearing to yourself under your breath as you mutter. “Shit. Fuck, I-. Goddamn, you really are fucking perfect.”
“What was that?” Luca asks, only catching the swearing part at the beginning and the ‘fucking perfect’ part at the end. 
“Um…” you trail off, looking around you. 
As you catch Jesper and Mathilde ducking behind a shelf out of the corner of your eye, and a few of your waitstaff hurrying to make it look like they’re busy and not listening in, you realize that you and Luca have managed to earn the attention of some very curious onlookers. 
“Do you want to step outside for a moment?” you ask, gesturing towards the front door. 
“Sure,” he nods, letting you lead him to a spot outside.
You make sure that you're both as out of sight as possible, staying far away from the broad windows that line the front of your restaurant. 
“Hi,” you say again on an exhale.
“Hi,” he says back, simply. 
“I’m glad you came. I know I-... I should’ve called, or- or texted you… after Thursday,” you begin, nervously, eager to own up to the very big part you’ve played in the lack of communication.
“Yes. You should’ve,” he repeats, his eyes catching yours as you nod in confirmation. 
It’s good – that he’s not going to let you off the hook – and while you like it, you like that he has boundaries, you’re disappointed in yourself as you say:
“I’m sorry.”
Luca sighs, shaking his head as he immediately counters with:
“No, I’m sorry. I mean, yes, you should’ve called. Or at least texted. But I should’ve been clear in the first place that Thursday…” he trails off, almost as if he’s mustering up the courage to say what he needs to say. 
“... that Thursday was more to me than our regular excursions. That it was a date. To me at least.”
“Luca-.”
“I wish I would’ve told you – made it clear in the first place – so you knew what you were getting into,” Luca finishes, carefully watching for your reaction. There’s something so honest in the way he goes about this conversation, and you sure as hell feel like you could take the proverbial jump right fucking now. 
“I appreciate that. Really, I do…” you start, before trailing off again. “But I-. This isn’t on you, Luca.”
“How do you mean?” he asks you, his expressive brows knitted together, as if you’d just spoken in tongues. 
Here goes nothing, you think to yourself.
“I-. This has been great. I mean… I really like spending time with you,” you start, anxiously, instantly realizing that it sounds like you’re breaking up with him. “Fuck, I-.” 
You let out a frustrated groan as it seems you’re having an impossible time getting out what you need to get out. You take a breath. And a beat, before continuing. 
“And I’ve really liked this… hanging out, getting to know you… borrowing your books. I-, I just… we’ve got such a good thing going and I really don’t want to fuck this up, you know?”
He sighs your name this time, looking down for a moment as you add:
“I’m-, I’m afraid that… I’m going to fuck this up.”
“Yeah. I know,” he answers, heavily. “I-, I am too.”
“And then Thursday night, things were so, so good, and I-, I panicked and I feel terrible because… you don’t deserve that. You don’t.”
Luca takes a beat as he listens. He’s not sure what exactly that means, but he reminds himself to stay on track, stay the course and make sure that he says what he came here to say to you. 
“It’s alright,” he reassures you, softly, taking a step towards you. “I don’t want you to feel like… like you have to feel a certain way just because I-.”
“No, that’s not it! That’s not-, that’s really not the problem,” you interject as you struggle to explain yourself, unsure of where to even begin. You take a step towards him this time too, your voice softening as you continue. “Luca, I don’t feel obligated to feel… any kind of way just because you-.”
“Because I?” he questions you.
The silence his questions leaves goes on a few beats longer than you expected, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to fill in the blank. 
“Well, I don’t know,” you pause, a shocked look on your face as one of you waits for the other.
“You didn’t-, I never let you finish your sentence so,” you ramble aimlessly, immediately bursting out into a fit of laughter as you realize that neither of you are getting anywhere. 
Luca laughs too, joining in on the much needed reprieve. 
The two of you exchange glances, and one more shared laugh, before settling in once again. 
With a crooked smile spread across his lips, Luca can take a hint, realizing that he may need to take the lead on this one.
The way your name sounds on his lips is so heavenly, so divine, so soft that you know you’ve got it bad, as you scramble for a way to tell him everything that you’ve been feeling. 
“May I?” he asks, in reference to taking the lead. 
“Please.”
“I just came here to tell you… I want to tell you…” he corrects himself, taking a step towards you. 
“... that I really like you. I really like spending time with you. I like that you get me out of the kitchen in search of something different. And I think that your mind, even though incredibly neurotic, is absolutely brilliant. And if what you need is for us to be friends right now, I want that. We can… slow all of this down. All you’ve got to do is talk to me.”
It feels like time fucking stops, and the world goes black and white for a moment, then full color all at once as you hear the words coming out of his mouth. Your revelation comes rushing in, clear as day – that this man cares so deeply for you and that maybe, your heart could be safe with him. Unsure of how to deal with the grace and compassion Luca is showing you, you’re only left with one question, as it falls from your lips like a boulder. 
“How?”
“What?”
“How do you always have the right thing to say…” you ask him, your voice caught in your throat as you finish your question.  “... when I only have the wrong things to say?”
Luca opens his mouth to say something you’ll never hear, as you choose to completely throw caution to the wind. 
Perhaps the question was rhetorical anyways. 
You’re not sure what’s coms over you, but instead of words, you only have actions left, and the only thing that will remedy the situation is to do the thing that you’ve been panicking over doing since Luca showed you into the pastry room at AOC. You charge forward, reaching out for him, and he’s right there with you, meeting you halfway as you eagerly press your lips to his. 
You can feel all the blood in your body rush through you as your lips connect. Your heart flutters. Your head spins. It’s the kind of kiss that people write sonnets about – write love songs about. It’s almost three months of simmering tension, finally allowed to reach its boiling point. You pull away, just for a moment, uttering out a breathless:
“Holy shit.”
Luca laughs with a shake of his head as he agrees with a, “Yeah.”
You exchange a look, and a laugh, before kissing him again. 
And this time the kiss is a hello, it’s a new beginning, it’s a ‘thank god I met you.’
This time, Luca pulls away, reluctantly releasing you as he does. 
“It’s not that I don’t like this,” he begins, using all of his restraint to put this on pause. “I really, really do, but… I’m kind of getting mixed signals here.”
“No, no, I know,” you apologize, turning as you hear your name called, swearing under your breath again as soon as you see Mathilde peeking her head out of the front door. 
“Oh… my God! I am so sorry, I’ll just-, except for we need you to-, she calls after you, stumbling over her words as soon as she realizes what’s going on between you and Luca. 
“Nevermind it can wait!” Jesper exclaims, poking his head out of the front door as well, before dragging Mathilde back into the restaurant.
You and Luca exchange another laugh. 
“They’re… something,” you chuckle, with a shake of your head. 
“Good wingmen,” Luca adds, mirroring your previous exchange with his coworker. 
Returning his focus to you, Luca shakes his head incredulously, considering this is not the way he thought this conversation would go. He grins as he takes you in, but knows that this is time limited. He’d noticed the curious staff of your restaurant that he’s come to know and love doing their best to pretend they weren’t listening in on your conversation earlier. They know exactly what’s going on here, so if they felt the need to interrupt, Luca knows that you’re most likely needed back in the kitchen. 
He shifts his weight in between both of his feet, taking a small step back as he states:
“We’re gonna have to talk about this.”
“Yes,” you agree, your declaration certain.
“But right now you have to go,” Luca continues. 
“Right now I have to go,” you echo as confirmation. “Later. I promise. We’ll talk. Tonight?”
“Yeah ehm. Not to be… presumptuous. But my place is closeby. We could… perhaps talk. Tonight. There?” Luca suggests, trying to downplay the fact that it sounds like he’s asking you to come over for a booty call. 
It’s certainly not his intention, considering he’d just offered to slow things down, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. 
“Yeah. I’ll text you,” you agree, suddenly nervous again. “When I’m done here. If you’re still up.”
“It’s a date,” Luca agrees, deciding to move in towards you again.
You nod, taking another step towards him so that you can kiss him again. 
“Oh, and Luca?”
He hums in response, his eyes flickering from yours to your lips because he really can’t wait to kiss you again either. . 
“I should be-. I want to be clear,” you begin, deciding to be brave in this moment. 
He raises an eyebrow. 
“I really like you too,” you say, before standing tall on your tiptoes, and pulling him down to you for, this time, a see-you-later kiss. 
----------------------------
a/n: ummm hi how are we doing is everyone doing ok?!
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daytaker · 2 months
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The Demon Brothers React to Watching a Horror Movie with You
CW: discussion of gore (Satan)
I didn’t include the dateables in this one but if people want that, y’know…let me know.
Lucifer
"You frighten yourself... intentionally? Interesting."
He fails to see the appeal, quite frankly.
Not only does he not find them scary, he doesn't understand why you watch them if you do.
He's too used to playing the babysitter to take you grabbing his hand as an excuse for physical contact. He interprets it as you tapping out, so he'll pause the movie and give you an out.
Of course, if you insist on finishing the movie regardless, that's an interesting choice in and of itself.
What an opportunity to observe a tortured human psyche at work.
If you insist on holding hands at this point, he won't fight it. He is a bit more dubious than before, though. Are you really doing this because you're scared? You wouldn't happen to have any ulterior motives, would you?
He will gladly reassure you after the movie is over that you are always welcome to come to him for comfort if you're afraid in the middle of the night. You know where his room is.
Mammon
"Just so we’re clear, I ain’t afraid of no horror movies. Not even a little! Not even a teensy-tiny bit, all right? Like, seriously."
He's lying.
This isn't even headcanon stuff, this is just common knowledge.
Also common knowledge: he will insist on proving how cool and brave he is by watching a horror movie with you and protecting you from the monsters and gore onscrEEAAAUUUUGH???!!!
He wasn't scared, he was just startled.
And he's only up here on the lights fixture because he remembered one bulb was flickering earlier. There. He fixed it. He's just being responsible.
Anyway, if you're nervous and want to hold his hand, he understands. Humans are fragile as hell.
In fact, you don't need to stop at hand-holding. You can just hug hiMYEEAAGH!!!!
He's hugging you instead. He's being a good demon and taking care of his human.
Yes, he's in your lap. He thought you'd feel more secure that way.
Stop laughing!
Leviathan
"So I read that the film set for this movie was cursed by a mangaka who never got credit as an influence for the story..."
Time for some J-horror, obviously.
He read up extensively on the production before asking you to watch it with him. He figures he'll be less terrified if he has plenty of background knowledge about the film as an artistic piece to remind him that the happenings onscreen aren't real.
Instead he found a bunch of rumors about how the movie was cursed. But he'd already poured so much of his valuable time into researching it. Sunk cost fallacy: activated! You're watching this damn movie.
He's scared. He's so embarrassed to be this scared but he's scared.
When he's by himself, he doesn't mind that he spooks easily. He likes it. That's the fun of horror games and movies.
But with you here, he feels the pressure to be your emotional rock during the harrowing film-viewing process.
You can hold his hand. You know, if you want to. He gets it if that idea grosses you out, but he did wash his hands right before you got here, so...
If he gets too scared, the demon form comes out, and suddenly you have a scaly tail wrapped around your waist and webbed fingers clutching you.
He's sorry, it's just... It just happens sometimes, okay? Laugh it up, normie!
Actually, it feels kind of nice when you stroke his scales like that. If you really want to, you don't have to stop.
He is no longer watching the movie.
Satan
"This is an extremely unrealistic depiction of decapitation with a hacksaw."
There is nothing less scary than watching a horror movie with Satan, because his smart ass can't stop telling you about everything wrong with it.
The movie is starting. Are you nervous? He'll hold your hand. He has enough basic sense to at least get that part of the process right.
...That's not even close to how it looks when you disembowel a deer.
There's a lot more blood spatter than you'd expect when head wounds are involved. Apparently the special effects crew on this movie didn't do their due diligence.
Hmm, that's actually a pretty convincing amputation scene. Credit where credit is due.
Sorry, but he thinks that calling this one a "psychological thriller" is giving it a little too much credit.
Asmodeus
"Nooo! Ahhh, I can't take it, it's so scaryyy!"
He's not scared. Not even a little.
He's not even grossed out.
But he thinks that seeming terrified is cuter than seeming mildly amused and a little bored.
So before you start watching, he makes sure to lay down some ground rules.
If he's scared, he gets to hold your hand. If you're scared, you get to hold his hand.
If he's scared, he gets to hug you. If you're scared, you get to hug him.
If nothing scary is happening for more than five minutes, he's allowed to request a kiss. Just to keep you both from getting bored.
Why are sex scenes in slashers so awful? Even before the stabbing starts. They're just so... blah. It's disappointing every time.
Ahhh! There's the killer! He's so scared! He's going to hide his face in your neck and cling to you for dear life!
Beelzebub
"What's wrong? Why do you look so sick?"
Bro will eat nonchalantly through the most brutal and gut-wrenching scenes of gore, entirely unaffected.
And he will.
He will do that, right in front of you, and not even have the decency to understand why you have to go vomit.
He doesn't really get most horror films. But occasionally something will resonate strongly with him and he will become very quiet and potentially fairly upset for awhile.
If something reminds him too much of Lilith or her death, for example.
But even if that happens, he won't stop eating.
Belphegor
"Wake me up if something interesting starts happening."
Another one who is entirely unaffected by horror.
Nothing is more horrifying than living as himself in this fucked up world.
He's very annoyed whenever Mammon or Levi watches anything horror-related because their screaming makes it hard to sleep.
He doesn't mind if you scream though.
He can fall asleep to the sound of you screaming.
Take that however you wish.
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mysteryshoptls · 3 months
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Happy Winter Holiday Gift Calendar 2023
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These are all the messages that you get from the boys when you log in during the Winter Holiday Campaign from 09 Dec 2023 to 31 Dec 2023! For those that want to read them again, you can find them in the Album, under GIFT CALENDAR 2023.
"How will you be spending the day?"
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HEARTSLABYUL
Riddle
I think I will go to the library today. There were someone's scribbles all over the book I borrowed yesterday, you see. It disrupts my focus, so I plan to find a replacement book. Seriously... It's a terrible crime to deface a book like this.
Ace
Today? Well, it's snowing outside, and I got no club practice, so maybe I'll check out on my streaming service a movie or show that catches my eye. I can stay warm and cozy in my room, all while munching on some snacks. Don'tcha think we deserve lazy days like this sometimes?
Deuce
I'm going to try to finish the assignments I got today, before the day ends. That's what an honor student should do, right? But... The first question is already a tough prac app question...? Right! Just gotta hunker down and get down to it!
Cater
Maybe I'll surf Magicam for some 'cammable spots that're only available in the winter. Stuff like diamond dust, or hotels made from ice... Knowin' they're only limited to the season really gets me psyched up!
Trey
It's pretty cold every day now, so I think I'll stock up on lemonade-ginger syrup. It'll warm you right up if you drink some. What, according to the Queen of Hearts' Laws, we can't have lemonade after 8 o'clock? Well, this has ginger in it, so it's a completely different drink, isn't it?
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SAVANACLAW
Leona
No plans worth mentioning. What, not what you were expecting? Well, too bad. The campus is completely covered in snow, so the best thing for me to do is just to get back to my dorm room and relax while solving some chess problems.
Jack
The track team has practice today. But since it's supposed to snow in the afternoon, it may just end up being indoor training. It takes a while or the body to get limber in the winter. That means we need to extra thorough in our warming up exercises.
Ruggie
Obviously, I'm gonna be workin'! Today, I'm at a cake shop, and tomorrow I'm waitin' tables at a restaurant... The holidays are coming up, so 'tis the season for a ton of high-payin' temp jobs to fill my pockets, too! Shishishi!
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OCTAVINELLE
Azul
As always, I will be awaiting everyone's visit to the Mostro Lounge. On a cold day such as this, we usually receive orders for dishes that are more common in the winter season. I'm sure today will be a rather busy day.
Jade
I thought perhaps I would make a herbarium. The atmosphere this time of year tends to be dry, so it is the perfect opportunity. How would you like to join me? No need to worry, I will show you how everything is done.
Floyd
Yesterday I saw someone wearing these boots lined with fur, and it looked kinda fascinating, so I thought I'd try to find some in town. I wonder if it's hard to walk in? If I find a good pair, I think I'll buy 'em and try 'em out.
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SCARABIA
Kalim
Today, we have travelling salesmen from the Scalding Sands coming. I'm planning on buying a ton of stuff for the holidays! It's so exciting to think about what kind of treasure I might find! You should bring some friends over and check it out, too.
Jamil
There's no club activities today, so I plan to look into a few things. My family will be going on a trip over the holidays, you see. Tourist attractions, climate, local cuisine, souvenirs... Never a bad idea to gather too much information, don't you think?
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POMEFIORE
Vil
I intend on picking up the spring coat I had on order. I'll also look for accessories that go with it while I'm out. Hm? It's too early to think about spring attire? If I wait to prepare everything for after it starts to get warmer, then I'll completely miss out on the season.
Epel
Snow's piling up again today, so I'm plannin' on clearing the magical shift field with the rest of my clubmates. Didn't bother me none, but the other guys were all dog-tired... Pathetic, ain't they?
Rook
I plan to check on the houseplants we are cultivating in the Science Club. Fufu, I wonder what sort of expressions they'll have today? I do hope there'll be some changes from yesterday that I'll get to enjoy.
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IGNIHYDE
Idia
Obvi, just been hyperfixating on my online games, like always... Rather, why would you think I'd go out in cold weather like this in the first place? I recently overhauled the internet speed in the dorm, so it's crazy fast now lol. Gonna actually pull an all-nighter, it's been a while!
Ortho
It'll probably be a game day with my roommates, since the new game that I ordered online arrived. Physical games might take up more space, but I just can't help but want to actually collect my favorite games, y'know?
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DIASOMNIA
Malleus
It's chilly today. The best thing to possibly do on days like this is to warm my room and enjoy some frozen treats. Perhaps I'll invite Lilia and the others later. Fufu... I suppose it's not a bad thing to be the one making preparations for them once in a while.
Silver
I will be practicing my swordsmanship with Father after this. I thought I would finish up my assignments beforehand, but... Before I realized it, I had fallen asleep and my notepad was completely blank. What should I do...?
Sebek
I plan to read the book I ordered from the Mystery Shop the other day. It's a book that I've been eagerly awaiting. Grandfather was the one to recommend it to me, so I must read it over and over again and tell him my thoughts on it!
Lilia
We have band practice today. However... When it gets cold like this, my fingers get numb and hard to move. Hm? Naah, I already have the songs memorized. It's really only about staying in rhythm with the other members!
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OTHERS
Grim
Brrr, it's cold~! Hey, henchie! Today we're gonna stay cozy under that "KOTATSU" thingie. We'll have some snacks and play some games together... Myaha! Today's totally gonna be a blast!
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Requested by Anonymous.
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ccl-c · 4 months
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four things sort of related to the drawing:
first, this was supposed to be inspired by marianne stokes's death and the maiden but somehow ended up looking more like psyche revived by cupid's kiss. (i also really want to do something with izzy's obsession with fire but haven't come up with any good composition ideas yet.)
second, i don't know if anyone seeing this can get it but i just realised that izzy has a lot in common with dokuga from dorohedoro (these two are probably my favourite type of characters): both are brave, smart, skillful and elegant fighters (both pretty tiny as well; dokuga is 177cm/5ft8 which seems fine but still makes him smaller than most people around him); both have knives with them as part of the defaults; both extremely repressed although for different reasons; both have put on a pretty “look” once although for completely different reasons also; both scarred on the upper body (dokuga canonically has no scar on his legs; not sure about izzy but from the toe scene it seems he doesn't have large scars on his legs either); both are their (towering) bosses' right-hand man and probably the most trusted person, and know (terrible) backstories that the crew/gang don't know; both have come back from near-death and lost a limb (dokuga was healed in the end but he still stayed in that state for half a year); both extremely loyal and devoted to their bosses even in the worst circumstances despite their love not returned (even the way kraken!ed makes the crew stressed and scared and confused and burnt out is in some way similar to kai with his gang near the end).
third, is it just me or does ed's earrings in this scene look like they're made with … toe bones? the little parts that line up? i wouldn't be surprised if he made izzy's toes into earrings. someone on the ship probably even had to make them for him, and that's how they knew ed took more of his toes.
and the last thing, i have been thinking about izzy's pain/torture kink and i've come to wonder if it's because pain makes him feel somewhat safe. it's familiar, it doesn't have to be bargained for, and it reminds him of what he is. it allows him to be the centre of another person's attention without having to deal with feelings. it probably also lets him ease into some sort of quiet headspace without voluntarily being “vulnerable”. a sort of “rational pleasure” that he considers matching what he's supposed to be like. and when it's over he can always blame the pain and not himself for whatever sensations he had.
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Text
Answering Commonly Asked Questions About Synastry - Part. 1
Q: "When it comes to house overlays, who feels it more?"
A: With house overlays in synastry, it's not really about who feels more so much as who feels what, and which parts of each person's life/psyche are being lit up by the other. The house person is having a part of their life highlighted by the planet person and they're feeling the impact of the overlay in that way, while the planet person is feeling drawn to that area of the house person's life and is feeling the energy of the planet they're embodying. If the synastry overlay is Mars in the 7H, for example, the Mars person adopts Martian traits when operating within this area of the house person's life; they can feel driven to form a relationship with the house person, they can feel passionate about their connection with/the idea of having a connection with the house person, the way the house person interacts with others and approaches partnership may evoke strong desire in the Mars person, they can potentially become frustrated if the relationship isn't moving as fast as they might like, they might be the more dominant or assertive person in the relationship, you get the idea, but the general theme here is that the planet person is approaching their relationship with the house person through a Martian lens. Meanwhile, the house person is having the area of their life involving relationships, cooperation, and commitment essentially 'activated' by the planet person, similar to a transit. Except with synastry, the energy of the planet is being brought to you through an actual person, as opposed to a transit where it's just sort of a general, transcendent energy you feel. The Mars person can make the house person feel more driven to be in a relationship, they can make the house person feel more courageous and assertive when interacting with others, if the house person is too self-focused, the presence of Mars can really push them to become more people-oriented or to focus more on the important relationships in their life, if the Mars person is embodying the more aggressive side of Mars, then the house person might find find them and their approach to the relationship pushy and disagreeable, it can also make them feel more meek and docile during their interactions with Mars, which may or may not bother them depending on who they are, the 7H is also about cooperation and your style of interacting with others so Mars here (at it's worst) can bring a bit of a selfish, insensitive, and overly-autonomous energy to their connection with the house person. So to recap, the planet person feels the energy of the planet they're embodying and views the area of the house person's life through the lens of that planet, and the house person feels the impact of that planet on that area of their life, and feels the themes of that house being activated by the planet person. The house person is reacting to the energy of the planet, while the planet person is reacting to the energy of the house. Technically, either person can feel the energy of an overlay more than the other, but that doesn't depend on whether you're the planet person or the house person, it depends on whether or not one person in the relationship is more invested than the other, which synastry alone can't necessarily determine. Which leads me into the next frequently asked question/s:
Q: "Does this person like me? Do they find me attractive? Are we gonna get married? Will our relationship last? Who's more obsessed?" And basically anything else in that vain.
A: I'm sorry, but I don't know! Synastry (and Astrology in general) can show potential, but this potential works alongside freewill and personhood and all of the other many moving parts involved in being a human that is alive. The Synastry you have with a person will always be filtered through the kind of relationship you have with them and the kind of people you both are, as well as the circumstances around you both. The way that one synastry aspect/overlay manifests with one person in one situation may not - and likely won't - manifest in the exact same way with another person in a different situation. For example, if you have 8th house synastry with someone you're extremely close to, the effects of that 8th house synastry will likely have a stronger impact on you and be much more noticeable than the 8th synastry you might share with, let's say, a random coworker. That isn't to say that the effects aren't still there, or that synastry can only be felt in pre-existing, intimate relationships, but rather that synastry cannot *promise* any specific outcome, and can instead show the potential of a connection. If you have your Moon, for example, in that random coworkers' 8th house, it doesn't necessarily mean that you'll have a super close, deeply intimate and vulnerable relationship with them, or even that you'll want to. But it can mean that if you were to form a closer relationship with them, the potential for deep intimacy, mutual trust, and emotional support between you two would be there. It means that out of all of the other areas of this person's life, this area is what you're most emotionally drawn to, and where you have the greatest capacity to gain emotional fulfilment within the confines of your relationship. Certain synastry charts can show more potential for certain things than others. A synastry chart can show a strong likelihood of certain outcomes or a certain kind of relationship, but again, nothing is guaranteed; not in astrology, and not in life. It's also worth remembering that you have synastry with literally everyone, and you, of course, are not going to have significant relationships with every single person you encounter. In order for the synastry you have with someone to really manifest itself to its fullest, you'll need to actually form some kind of relationship with them, whether you're acquaintances, best friends, business partners, romantic partners, etc., your synastry will manage to display itself through whatever kind of connection you have. In my opinion, better questions to ask when getting a synastry reading might be: What significant patterns/themes do you notice in our chart? What might I/they find most fulfilling about our relationship? What might this person find most attractive about me, if anything? What do you find the most interesting/unique about our synastry? Is this person's chart compatible with mine on paper? What area of my life might this person have the strongest impact on? How might this person's placements interact with *blank* part of my natal chart? etc. Asking more open-ended questions like these are likely to get you much better insight.
I'll be making a part 2 to this at some point, so feel free to leave any synastry questions you have in the comments!
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psychewritesbs · 7 months
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Chapter 236: Go South—JJK is generational
Gosh. Can we pleeeease just like... have a moment of silence for the one and only...THE Man, Gojo Satoru.
Ok, time's up.
Moving on.
Word vomit under the cut.
The process of reading this chapter was a very interesting one this week because the fandom got really noisy as soon as the leaks dropped.
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Between allegations of bad writing and the utter sense of grief Gojo fans were expressing, it was quite the 💩 storm.
And then the actual scanlations started dropping, and little by little they replaced most of the noise with the utter sense of calm and peace and satisfaction that Gojo felt in his last moments in this plane of existence.
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I gotta say that I just absolutely loved how Gege depicted those emotions (outside of Gojo's "dream") through shots of the devastated Shinjuku district.
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The remnants of the battle of The Strongest, as if the landscape and the buildings themselves represented the end of an era, the devastation of the structure of Jujutsu society itself.
After all, as The Strongest sorcerer in the modern era, Gojo represented the very system he was trying to destroy.
Gege loves his irony.
Now, I would normally say that the words in the speech bubbles are superfluous because Gege creates such a beautiful atmosphere through the setting alone. But it is the words themselves that re-contextualize not just the battle, but also shed more light on Sukuna's interest in Megumi, which I feel we haven't seen the extent of what he had in mind.
Now I'm hoping this isn't a dream
Listen, I must admit I've never cared for Gojo.
I don't hate him, I don't love him, I simply never really cared for him.
That, of course, changed with this chapter.
And it is perhaps Gojo's death that really solidified in my mind the idea that one of the underlying themes in jjk is... dun dun dun... DEATH.
Yeah, I know. Sue me, I'm late to the party lmao.
But it's not just death itself that is a theme, but rather the face we put on when death comes knocking at the door.
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There aren't many things that we can be certain of in this life, but death is one of them. So how we confront death and our mortality shapes the sense of self.
I know a lot of people were dissatisfied with the transition from 235 to 236 and Gege not showing how/when Gojo got slashed in half, but I find the abrupt transition makes sense, and I even dare say was... quite poetic.
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For one, now knowing that Gojo knew Sukuna was holding back, a lot of incidents throughout the battle are given new meaning. Like that look of confidence on Gojo's face as he "thinks" he's finally managed to "get through" to Sukuna.
So I have to say that I loved that Gege starts the chapter with Gojo becoming aware that he has died or is dying.
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In other words, Sukuna's attack was so sudden that Gojo's next moment of awareness as "Gojo Satoru" is in what we would normally think of as "the light at the end of the tunnel" where he is greeted by people who were of significance to him in his youth.
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And can we please just talk about how Geto is the first person he sees when he becomes aware that he is dying?
Please. This is fucking poetry!
Insert keyboard smash.
Screaming in jjk.
Go South
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I literally lack the words to explain why I love this whole chapter so much. Which is a lot to say because I am about to word vomit about it. But like...
Again, hindsight is 20/20.
I always thought of the panel above as Geto being jealous of Gojo surpassing him in strength but, in retrospect, I think Geto's disappointment had more to do with Gojo's sense of self over-identifying with the title "the strongest" and how that made him harder to relate to, which is one of the main themes in this chapter. I'll come back to this in a sec.
But first...
Quick depth psych segway. I think I've said this before, but it bears repeating again that an overwhelming sense of self is all ego. There's nothing wrong with ego per se.
The problem is that an over-identification with ego means inherent separateness because, as an organ of the psyche, the ego sense of self is what gives us a separate identity from the collective.
On the other hand, soul/heart (another organ in the psyche) is the principle of relatedness--love, the single energy that can bring us all together as a collective.
But as we already know, the stronger the sorcerer, the more overwhelming the sense of self.
Unfortunately, because an overwhelming sense of self = separateness, this also means the person in question can't relate to others.
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And is this not thematically perfect for a sorcerer whose perfected cursed technique was meant to render others unable to "reach him"?
In other words, Gojo saw himself as separate (because he was "The Strongest") and that made it harder for him to relate to others, but only because he self-identified as "The Strongest".
Infinity ∞, in this sense, is also about the self-fulfilling prophecy Gojo was stuck playing out in his life in regards to seeing himself as "The Strongest".
But like a serpent eating its own tail, Gojo came back full circle, and in the moments before his death, learned that what really mattered to him was not strength for the sake of strength, but rather the connections he had fostered with others.
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PLEASE. GEGE. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK?!!!!!!!!!!!
To bring it back to "Satoru became 'The Strongest'"...
I just loved so much that seeing Geto as soon as he becomes aware he's died felt like an encounter that meant Gojo had returned to the person he was before he self-identified as "The Strongest".
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But more importantly, Gojo's imagination of himself as back when he was young also speaks both to how much he cherished that period of his life, and to how he was emotionally frozen in time due to his encounter with Toji.
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It makes me wonder whether Gojo was afraid of dying alone when Toji almost killed him. So it's almost like what he took away from that battle was that he was always alone, and so he sought to push others away.
The kicker is that he simultaneously feared his existential isolation and yet craved the very source of his fear--human relations.
But in choosing self-preservation, he was a selfish to the very end.
What an idiot (tragically affectionate).
Anyways. How much of this is hc? Someone tell me please 😂. I feel like I went off the deep end in the last few paragraphs.
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Like everyone else in this fandom I've lost all objectivity when it comes to Gojo because his departure from the story was truly one of the most heartbreaking moments in jjk.
I understand people's complaints about the "execution," but I think the world-wide phenomena that Gojo's death has spurred speaks to Gege's ability to elicit deeply archetypal emotional responses as a story teller.
With Gojo's death, a part of our own psyche too has died. And what's most significant about this death is that it was, true to Gojo's character, "something that needed to die because it represented the very thing it sought to destroy."
And this would be why I love Gege's writing.
A fitting way for Gojo to go out
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I know not everyone agrees, but I really appreciated that he was satisfied and at peace in the very end.
He got his cake (battle to death with Sukuna) and got to eat it too (reconnected with his loved ones).
Sukuna
But we can't talk about Gojo without talking about Sukuna as the one who liberated Gojo from the burden of his existential isolation.
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Sukuna gave Gojo a fun battle, but if it weren't because Sukuna figured out how to cut through Gojo's metaphorical defenses by learning to cut through space-time itself--the very fabric of reality, Gojo might not have found his humanity once again.
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The outcome of this battle spells out in no uncertain terms how dire the situation is as Sukuna has proven himself to be the uncontested "Strongest".
But in a sense, the end is a new beginning, and this time, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.
JJK is generational
I get the feeling that everyone will remember where they were when this panel dropped.
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I was in bed. It was 6 am and Tasokare, my miniature panther, was demanding attention.
A moot was on the way to the gym. They never made it out of the house after seeing the panel.
Another moot was completely avoiding Twitter to avoid leaks, but her brother, who does not even read jjk, saw the panel on Facebook and showed it to her.
Yet another moot was on vacation at the beach.
JJK is generational like that and there's just so much more I can say about this chapter and its implications (like the idea that Sukuna can now cut through space-time, why?! what does he want to get out of this ability?), but I just don't even know what more I can say right now.
Anyways, thanks for reading. I'm looking forward to any thoughts you might have. Just a heads up, I'm very, very slow at replying.
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