#if anyone has any suggestions for other shows we should do let us know!

[m4rs-ex3]

ALLLL RIGHTY YALL

if u haven't already seen.............. guys i was late i was fucking late for the panel give me a break

BUT here is a play by play of everything from the second i got in

[A GOOD CHUNK OF THE SECRET SCENE] if you saw this post within the first few *hours you got to see but you know what? they got to me i don't wanna be the snitch (i did on accident but its the though that counts)

opeli is being led blindfolded (which we see from opeli's pov. riveting visuals i tell you) by soren to the ✨secret meeting location✨

when she comments on the fact that it is literally just callum's office soren shuts her up bless him

opeli's like "DID BAIT GIVE BIRTH??!?!?" and soren's like no these are "rescue baits" and opeli gives them the greatest fucking look i can't even describe it to you

you've seen that leak "look it's the pearl :D""WHA""yep he's in there :)))))"

rayla says it like "per-al." just thought you should know

soren suggests forming a Fellowship of the Pearl and going to throw it into a volcano i fucking hate this show

they're all debating what to do with it meanwhile the most cryptic-ass shots of callum with the pearl like we get it he's fucked (i take it back i want more)

they finally get to him and he's like "uh????? destroy it obviously?????"

he suggests--and these are 100% his words (not actually cuz u know but its the general idea)--"smash it? throw it off a cliff? take a big ol axe and just--KA CHOP." i love him so much

rayla asks how they know it won't just release him

the way callum is so confused and conflicted and he just says "i... i don't know" oh my god by precious baby

cool ass top-down to the pearl whirlpool esq transtion into the next scene hello??

zym is being emo at a painting of his mother (the one from 4x03 yeah they just stitched that shit up it's all good)

ezran's like. huh. we oughtta do smth abt this

callum is Thinking Thoughts on the turrets(?? yk where soren does his lunges) and tossin the rune cube when he sees the star rune light up......................................

it's stella stella's there and the way he reacts to her is so precious 😭 he's not the step dad he's the dad who stepped up type shit

enter rayla "they told me u would be up here brooding"

(in a tragic turn of events the rayllum of this scene had my brain fuzzy so i can't remember a few chunks here and there have pity my brain has rotten)

callum's like "we have to do something i'm scared he's gonna use me. i know what we need to do ok we need to go to the starscraper"

it's honestly hilarious the way he says "and *WE.* should go" he's like "don't be gettin any ideas now this is an us thing"

and then ohoho "they have something there for you, too" (THAT was an exact quote)

he's like "PLSPLSPLS i've studied star magic i know the spells i know the runes i just need the quasar diamonds!! LET ME FREE UR PARENTS AND RUNAAN PLEAAAASSSSEEEE"

rayla is veryyyyyy opposed she's like "NO i want to help my parents as much as you"--honestly i don't think ANYONE wants to as much as him--"but i don't want my biases to affect that" BIASES?!??!! like that was the word she used i can't stop thinking about it

zym has entered his wolf child era his ass is HOWLING at the moon

soren hears him and goes "aww little guy misses his mom :((( sometimes i wonder where my mom is...." WHAT AWHAT WHAT AWHAT PJARDON SAY IT AGIAN YOU WAHGTS SAY IT AGIAND HUAH HUWH A

ok. yeah callum does not have pajamas BUT I THINK WE HAVE BIGGER ISSUES HERE????????????? HE WAS SLEEPING IN HIS OFFICE

THAT COUCH THING THAT THEY WERE ON WHEN RAYLA CAME BACK IN 4x03???? HES JUST SLEEPING ON IT I CANT MY GUY WHAT R U DOINGGG

in other news

bruv is tossing and turning and then just. ~stops.~ this can only mean good things (i think you know where i'm going with this)

he sits up. hobbles over to the door. there was a really cool transition (can u tell i respect the cinematography) and he's in the cellar holding the pearl.

he wakes up in aaravos' prison and is like "well this looks neat!" until he sees the mirror and screams and wakes up. when he realizes where he is he goes "what have i done" dude you fell asleep?? god he's never sleeping again (<- me when i lie 😈)

the description we got of this next scene did NOT do it justice it was fucking incredible

callum kicks down the fucking door (not actually) screaming for rayla

rayla TUMBLES OUT OF BED ON TO THE FLOOR, pillows in hands and unafraid to use them

"WHOA. HEY HEY ITS OKAY ITS ME! it's just me rayla. it's me. callum" i feel like he was saying the same 5 words for 7 hours it was beautiful

rayla: "callum?? jeez i could have-" *looks at pillows*

callum giggles the cutest fucking giggle and says something along the lines of "yeah, it would've hurt real bad :)"

oh yeah DE-LAYERED PONYTAIL RAYLA CONFIRMEDED??!?!?!?!?!

she sits back on the bed and my guy KNEELS DOWN AT THE CORNER OF THE BED TO PICK UP HER STUFF BEFORE HE SITS DOWN NEXT TO HER and they say chivalry is dead romance was birthed and ended with this scene

he tells her about it and she goes "callum, you're exhausted. you had a nightmare. if i thought you were in any real danger you know i would-" and then ironically i forget the same line that the person from nycc did wouldja look at that

can i just mention how close they were sitting in this scene i mean i jsut thikn i should mention hwo clo

yada yada he has a lightbulb and runs off with her blanket

the iconic "i know stella.. he took our blankie :("

god knows why barius is up in the middle of the night whispering sweet nothings to his jelly tarts

callum comes in with a certain proposition mwuhahaha

rayla comes into his office and sees his aesthetic ass sewing by fireside and graciously says "ah i get it! you're taking your mind off things by peacefully knitting" so iconic for both of them

callum explains that he's stitching runes to create a protection spell when barius comes in with the """"""""pearl""""""""""

rayla DIVES in front of callum and says "what r you doing get that thing AWAY from him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she got SO protective SO fast it was blessed

callum's like au contraire 😈

ok so obviously we had all heard about the fake pearl but. you know that one guy who makes insane sculptures out of nothing but chocolate? that's what they did the pearl is brown sludge with a candy coating 💀 i'm losing my mind that is so funny to me

so yeah with the decoy out the real pearl is protected by--and callum literally said this--"a magic blankie >:)"

he also pops in to tell ez and omg GUYS BAIT HAS HIS OWN LITTLE ROYAL CANOPY BED ITS SO FUCKING CUTE

dawn in the courtyard--ez is saying goodbye to soren, zym, and pyrrah who are going to look for zubeia (i almost just typed zendaya i need sleep) and callum and rayla who r going to the starscraper

my roman empire is this: callum was acting all eepy and then when they get going hE RESTS HIS HEAD ON RAYLA'S BACK AND FALLS ASLEEP. I CANNOT FUCKING MAKE THIS UP IT WAS PHENOMENAL SHE LOOKED SO FUCKING HAPPY I I I I I I HAKJSDHFKJASHFDKJHSADKFHKJASHFIHASEKFH

on a slightly lower note

scene from teaser except they did cut a couple lines in the teaser. mainly just terry going "didn't see you there,, cuz i was asleep. with my eyes closed"

he does not in fact get impaled but claudia tells him she's gonna leave him first and does just that

as she's going omfg terry's cries and pleas and "I LOVE YOU"s and "I WILL WAIT. I WILL WAIT HERE FOR YOU" was absolutely insane idk what was in the air in that recording studio but shout out to ben

i am so tired goodbye!

#SO SORRY i couldn't get this out last night #but here she is #tdp s6 #tdp s6 spoilers #tdp spoilers #tdp wondercon #tdp #the dragon prince #*thought i fixed it within minutes but iiii did not💀

[dresshistorynerd]

European history is not white

Someone commented this to a post I reblogged, which message is basically "we shouldn't venerate the Dead White Man HistoryTM and we should elevate other history too, but we still need to learn Dead White Man HistoryTM to understand the world today". It's basically a response to the attitude you sometimes come across in the internet that sees learning about those Dead White MenTM as not worth our time. And this person, who seems to be following this blog because they responded to my reblog, takes it as a personal attack against all white Europeans. For some reason. Well I take these comments as a personal attack against historical understanding.

Firstly, the post clearly didn't say you shouldn't venerate any European history, because not all European history is Dead White Man HistoryTM. Obviously this person thinks European history is white, which is not true, but surely, surely, they know it's not all men? Secondly, what is "west culture"? When did it start? There is not one western culture, not one European culture. The first concept of some shared Europeanness was the Christendom in Middle Ages, but it was not exactly the same as we think of Europe today, because it did not include the pagan areas, but it included a lot of Levant and parts of Central Asia, where there were large Christian areas. And Europe was not "very white" nor was the Christendom. The more modern concept of West was cooked in tandem with race and whiteness during colonial era and Enlightenment, around 17th to 18th centuries. And Europe was certainly not very white then. The western world also includes a lot of colonized areas, so that's obviously not white history. Thirdly, implying that asking white people to apologize for European history (which no one did ask) is as ridiculous as asking black people for African history is... a choice. Black people do exist in a lot of other places than Africa, which white people should be the ones apologizing for, and really white people also have a lot to answer for about African history. Lastly, if you think the quote "anyone who thinks those dead white guys are aspirational is a white supremacist" means you as an European are demanded to apologize for your existence, maybe - as we say in Finland - that dog yelps, which the stick clanks. (I'm sorry I think I'm the funniest person in the world when I poorly translate Finnish sayings into English.)

The thing is, there is no point in European history, when Europe was white, for three reasons. 1) Whiteness was invented in 17th century and is an arbitrary concept that has changed it's meaning through time. 2) Whichever standard you use, historical or current, Europe still has never been all or overwhelmingly white, because whiteness is defined as the in-group of colonialists, and there has always been the internal Other too. In fact the racial hierarchy requires an internal Other. 3) People have always moved around a lot. The Eurasian steppe and the Mediterranean Sea have always been very important routes of migration and trade. I've been meaning to make a post proving exactly that to people like this, since as I've gathered my collection of primary images of clothing, I've also gathered quite a lot of European primary images showing non-white people, so I will use this opportunity to write that post.

So let's start from the beginning. Were the original inhabitants of Europe white? Of course not. The original humans had dark skin so obviously first Europeans had dark skin. Whenever new DNA evidence of dark skinned early Europeans come out (like this study), the inevitable right-wing backlash that follows is so interesting to me. Like what did you think? Do you still believe the racist 17th century theories that white people and people of colour are literally different species? I'm sure these people will implode when they learn that studies (e.g. this) suggest in fact only 10 000 years ago Europeans had dark skin, and even just 5 000 years ago, when Egypt (an many others) was already doing it's civilization thing, Europeans had brown skin (another source). According to the widely accepted theory, around that time 5 000 years ago the Proto-Indo-European language developed in the Pontic-Caspian steppe, which extends from Eastern Europe to Central Asia. These Proto-Indo-Europeans first migrated to Anatolia and then to Europe and Asia. Were they white? Well, they were probably not light skinned (probably had brown skin like the other people living in Europe around that time), the Asian branch of Indo-European peoples (Persians, most Afghans, Bengalis, most Indians, etc.) are certainly not considered white today and a lot of the people today living in that area are Turkic and Mongolic people, who are also not considered white. I think this highlights how nonsensical the concept of race is, but I don't think Proto-Indo-Europeans would have been considered white with any standard.

Around Bronze Age light skin became common among the people in Europe, while in East Asia it had become wide spread earlier. This does not however mark the point when "Europe became white". During the Bronze Age there was a lot of migration back and forth in the Eurasian steppe, and the early civilizations around Mediterranean did a lot of trade between Europe, Africa and Asia, which always means also people settling in different places to establish trading posts and intermarrying. There were several imperial powers that also stretched to multiple continents, like the briefly lived Macedonian Empire that stretched from Greece to Himalayas and Phoenicians from Levant, who didn't built an empire but settled in North Africa, Sicily and Iberia. In Iron Age the Carthaginian Empire, descendants of Phoenician settlers in current Tunisia, build an Empire that spanned most of the western Mediterranean coast. Their army occupying that area included among others Italic people, Gauls, Britons, Greeks and Amazigh people.

Iron Age also of course saw the rise of the Roman Republic, and later empire, but it was preceded by Etruscans, who populated Tuscan, and possibly preceded the Indo-European presence. However, weather through trade and migration with other Mediterraneans or the continuing presence of darker skin tones of the early Europeans, their art quite often depicts darker skin tones too, like seen below in first two images. Roman Empire at it's height spanned from Babylonia to the British Isles. They recruited soldiers from all provinces and intentionally used stationed them in different areas so they wouldn't be too sympathetic to possible rebels or neighboring enemies. Historical sources mention black Nubian soldiers in British Isles for example. They also built a lot of infrastructure around the empire to ensure protection and easy transportation through trade routes inside the empire. During this time Jewish groups also migrated from Levant to both North-Africa and Europe. Rome even had non-European emperors, like Septimius Severus who originated from Levant and was Punic (descendants of Phoenicians) from his father's side, and who was depicted with darker skin (third picture below). Various ethnicities with differing skin tones are represented all over Roman art, like in the fourth picture below from hunting lodge in Sicily.

Eurasian steppe continued to be important source of migration and trade between Europe and Asia. Scythians, Iranic nomadic people, were important for facilitating the trade between East Asia and Europe through the silk road during the Iron Age. They controlled large parts of Eastern Europe ruling over Slavic people and later assimilating to the various Slavic groups after loosing their political standing. Other Iranic steppe nomads, connected to Scythian culture also populated the Eurasian steppe during and after Scythia. During the Migration Period, which happened around and after the time of Western Rome, even more different groups migrated to Europe through the steppe. Huns arrived from east to the Volga region by mid-4th century, and they likely came from the eastern parts of the steppe from Mongolian area. Their origins are unclear and they were either Mongolic, Turkic or Iranic origin, possibly some mix of them. Primary descriptions of them suggests facial features common in East Asia. They were possibly the nomadic steppe people known as Xiongnu in China, which was significant in East and Central Asia from 3rd century BCE to 2nd century CE until they moved towards west. Between 4th and 6th centuries they dominated Eastern and Central Europe and raided Roman Empire contributing to the fall of Western Rome.

After disintegration of the Hun Empire, the Huns assimilated likely to the Turkic arrivals of the second wave of the Migration Period. Turkic people originate likely in southern Siberia and in later Migration period they controlled much of the Eurasian steppe and migrated to Eastern Europe too. A Turkic Avar Khagenate (nation led by a khan) controlled much of Eastern Europe from 6th to 8th century until they were assimilated to the conquering Franks and Bulgars (another Turkic people). The Bulgars established the Bulgarian Empire, which lasted from 7th to 11th in the Balkans. The Bulgars eventually adopted the language and culture of the local Southern Slavic people. The second wave of Migration Period also saw the Moor conquest of Iberia and Sicily. Moors were not a single ethnic group but Arab and various Amazigh Muslims. Their presence in the Iberian peninsula lasted from 8th to 15th century and they controlled Sicily from 9th to 11th century until the Norman conquest. During the Norman rule though, the various religious and ethnic groups (which also included Greeks and Italic people) continued to live in relative harmony and the North-African Muslim presence continued till 13th century. Let's be clear that the Northern Europe was also not white. Vikings also got their hands into the second wave migration action and traveled widely to east and west. Viking crews were not exclusively Scandinavians, but recruited along their travels various other people, as DNA evidence proves. They also traded with Byzantium (when they weren't raiding it) and Turkic people, intermarried and bought slaves, some of which were not white or European. A Muslim traveler even wrote one of the most important accounts of Vikings when encountering them in Volga.

By this point it should already be clear that Medieval Europe was neither white, but there's more. Romani people, who originate from India and speak Indo-Aryan language, arrived around 12th century to Balkans. They continued to migrate through Europe, by 14th century they were in Italy, by 15th century in Germany and by 16h century in Britain and Sweden. Another wave of Romani migration from Persia through North-Africa, arrived in Europe around 15th century. Then there's the Mongol Empire. In 13th century they ruled very briefly a massive portion of the whole Eurasian continent, including the Eastern Europe. After reaching it's largest extent, it quickly disintegrated. The Eurasian Steppe became the Golden Horde, but lost most of the Eastern-Europe, except Pontic-Caspian Steppe. They ruled over Slavs, Circissians, Turkic groups and Finno-Ugric groups till early 15th century. The Mongolian rulers assimilated to the Turkic people, who had been the previous rulers in most of the steppe. These Turkic people of the Golden Horde came to be known as Tatars. Golden Horde eventually split into several Tatar khagenates in 15th century, when the khagenates, except the Crimean Khagenate, were conquered by the Tsardom of Moscovy. Crimean Khagenate was annexed by the Russian Empire in 1783. Crusades were a movement from Europe to Levant, but they also meant intermarriage in the the Crusader kingdoms especially between the European and Levant Christians, and some movement back and froth between these kingdoms and Europe, trade and a lot of movement back after the Crusader kingdoms were defeated in 13th century. Generally too trade across the Mediterranean sea was extensive and led to migration and intermarriage.

And here's some example of people of colour in Medieval European art, shown as part of the majority white European societies. First is from a 15th century French manuscript depicting Burgundy court with dark skin courtier and lady in waiting. Second one is from a Flemish manuscript from 15th century of courtiers, including a black courtier, going for a hunt. Third is a 15th century Venetian gondolier with dark skin.

In Renaissance Era Europe was only increasing it's trade and therefore had even more connections outside Europe. The first picture below is Lisbon, which had strong trade relationship with Africa, depicted in late 16th century. People with darker skin tones were part all classes. Second image is an Italian portrait of probably a seamstress from 16th century. Third one is a portrait of one of the personal guards of the Holy Roman Emperor. Fourth image is a portrait of Alessandro de' Medici, duke of Florence, who was noted for his brown complexion, and the modern scholarly theory is that his mother was a (likely brown) Italian peasant woman.

Colonialism begun in the Renaissance Era, but the wide spread colonial extraction and slavery really got going in the 17th century. Racial hierarchy was developed initially to justify the trans-Atlantic slave trade specifically. That's why the early racial essentialism was mostly focused on establishing differences between white Europeans and black Africans. Whiteness was the default, many theories believed humans were originally white and non-whites "degenerated" either through their lives (some believed dark skin was basically a tan or a desease and that everyone was born white) or through history. Originally white people included West-Asians, some Central-Asians, some North-Africans and even sometimes Indigenous Americans in addition to Europeans. The category of white inevitably shrank as more justifications for atrocities of the ever expanding colonial exploitation were required. The colonial exploitation facilitated development of capitalism and the industrial revolution, which led to extreme class inequality and worsening poverty in the European colonial powers. This eventually became an issue for the beneficiaries of colonialism as worker movements and socialism were suddenly very appealing to the working class.

So what did the ruling classes do? Shrink whiteness and give white working classes and middle classes justifications to oppress others. Jews and Roma people had long been common scapegoats and targets of oppression. Their oppression was updated to the modern era and racial categories were built for that purpose. The colonial powers had practiced in their own neighborhoods before starting their colonial projects in earnest and many of those European proto-colonies were developed to the modern colonial model and justified the same way. In 19th century, when racial pseudoscience was reaching it's peak, Slavs, others in Balkan, the Irish (more broadly Celts), Sámi (who had lost their white card very early), Finns, Southern Italians, the Spanish, the Southern French and Greeks all were considered at least not fully white. The Southern Europeans and many Slavs were not even colonized (at least in the modern sense, though with some cases like Greeks it's more complicated than that), but they looked too much and were culturally too similar to other non-white Mediterraneans, and they were generally quite poor. In many of these cases, like Italians, the French and Slavs, it was primarily others belonging in the same group, who were making them into second class citizens. All this is to highlight how very malleable the concept of race is and that it's not at all easy to define the race of historical people.

However, even if we would go with the racial categories of today, Europe was still far from being all white in this period. You had Roma, who certainly are not included in whiteness today, and European Jews, whose whiteness is very conditional, descendants of Moors in Southern Europe and Tatars and Turks in Eastern Europe and Turkey, which today is often not thought of as part of Europe, but historically certainly was. And then colonialism brought even more people into Europe forcibly, in search of work because their home was destroyed or for diplomatic and business reasons. There were then even more people of colour, but they were more segregated from the white society. Black slaves and servants are very much represented in European art from 17th century onward, but these were not the only roles non-white people in Europe were in, which I will use these examples to show. First is a Flemish portrait of Congo's Emissary, Dom Miguel de Castro, 1643. Second is a 1650 portrait of a Moorish Spanish man Juan de Pareja, who was enslaved by the artist as artisanal assistant, but was freed and became a successful artist himself. Third is a 1768 portrait of Ignatius Sancho, a British-African writer and abolitionist, who had escaped slavery as a 20-year-old. Fourth painting is from 1778 of Dido Elizabeth Belle, a British gentlewoman born to a slave mother who was recognized as a legitimate daughter by her father, and her cousin. The fifth portrait is of an unknown woman by (probably) a Swiss painter from late 18th century. Sixth is a 1760s Italian portrait of a young black man.

In late 18th century England abolished slavery in British Isles first, then in early 19th century in the whole British Empire, thanks to the continuous campaign of free Black people and some white allies, notably Quakers. Around the same time slavery was abolished in France (briefly till Napoleon got to power) after the French revolution. This meant there were a lot more free black people in Europe after that. In 18th century the Europeans, British especially, were colonizing Asia as much they could, which meant that in 19th century there started to also be a lot more Asian, especially Indian people in Europe. First picture below is of Thomas Alexander Dumas, who was son of a black slave woman and a white noble French man and became a general in the French revolutionary army. His son was one of the most well-known French authors, Alexander Dumas, who wrote The Count of Monte Cristo and The Three Musketeers. Second portrait is of Jean-Baptiste Belley, a Senegalese former slave, who became French revolutionary politician. Third portrait is from 1810 of Dean Mahomed, an Indian-British entrepreneur, who established the first Indian restaurant in London. Forth is Arab-Javanese Romantic painter Saleh Syarif Bustaman, who spend years in Europe. Fifth is a 1862 photo of Sara Forbes Bonnetta, originally named Aina, princess of Edbago clan of Yoruba, who was captured into slavery as a child, but later freed and made Queen Victoria's ward and goddaughter. She married a Nigerian businessman, naval officer and statesman, James Pinson Labulo Davies (sixth picture).

So any guesses on at what point was that "very white Europe" when the "west culture" begun? It kinda seems to me that it never actually existed.

#history #poc history #black history #historical art #european history #history of race #colonialism #racism #slavery #painting #photograph

[rancidpancakebatter]

Picnics at Sunset - [L Lawliet]

Pairings: L (Death Note) x Female!Reader

Summary: You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Word Count: 14k words

Content: Swearing, Mentions of death, nudity?, friends to lovers, first kiss, Use of Celcius, touch of angst (it's death Note, come on), Sappy thoughts of love

( Masterlist )

A/N: I have so much to say, but I'll try to keep it brief. I'm sorry this is so long, but so much of this show cuts to long internal dialogues within a conversation, and I tried to capture that. I think I did well, but it is a little long-winded. I don't know if I'll do a lot of writing for this character, but he got stuck in my head recently, and this was the only way I knew to let him go.

You sat at your desk, the computer screen you had been staring at for the past three hours was beginning to hurt your head. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes; then silently cursing as you felt your mascara smear against the pads of your fingers. You needed a break and something other than a slice of cake in your stomach. You looked to your right out of habit, ready to tell your friend that you were taking a break and he should do the same, but his chair was empty.

You looked around the room.

“He stepped outside,” a voice said.

Behind you was Matsuda. You jumped when he spoke, not realising he was there, and he apologised for startling you.

“Yeah, we should get you a bell,” you suggested.

“Yeah, maybe so.” Matsuda laughed. “You know, if you want to bounce ideas off of someone, you can talk to me. I know I can’t come close to Ryusaki’s intelligence, but I’d like to think I have something to offer.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “I didn’t really need anything from him, just wanted to see what he was up to.”

“Well, I think he just needed some space to think. You know how he is.” 

“That I do,” You agreed, “And I know If he wants to be alone, he’ll have no problem telling me himself.” 

Matsuda laughed again, “I’m sure you’re right. But I have a feeling he won’t shoo you away. He has a soft spot for you.”

Just the idea of L turning you away had you put out. You crossed your arms, turning away with a huff. “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

You heard Matsuda chuckling behind you, wishing you luck. 

You marched up the stairs, down the hall, and got in the elevator, heading for the roof. As you made your way, you couldn’t help but admire the walls around you. The building L designed was quite impressive. You greatly enjoyed the glass elevator, preferring it over any others. Once you passed the tenth floor, the city could be seen. You were usually greeted by blinding sun and clear blue skies, but today, the sky was an enchanting apricot colour, blanketed by thick pink clouds heavy with rain. The sun was peaking from behind the silver buildings as if waiting to see you before finally saying goodbye. You waved to the people below, wishing them well on their oblivious wayfaring. 

Soon you reached the top floor, and you pushed open the door to get to the roof access. The door to the roof was already opened, so you called out.

“Ryusaki! You out there?”

You were greeted by silence and tried again.

“I’m alone!”

Only then did you get a reply, “Did you bring any food?”

You chuckled, stepping out onto the roof. “No, I’m sorry.”

L stood out in the open, basking in the fading light and staring at the sky, unbothered by the cold air blowing. He was slouched over and hands firmly in his pockets. He turned his head to you, and the vibrant sky poured over his pale skin, drenching the soft canvas in the colours of monarchs and sunflowers. The light danced around his prominent eyes, flames in a ring of stone. His lips looked kissed by a dreamsicle. You looked away, finding your way back to reality. 

“Did you want me to go back and get something?” You offered, throwing your thumb back towards the door. 

“No,” He said, turning back to the sun, “Watari should be up soon.”

Before you could question, you heard the door open and close and the clinking sound of plates as they made their way up the stairs. 

“Hello, dear,” The old man greeted with a smile. 

He carried a tray with a full tea set in one hand and a wicker basket in the other, with a blanket draped across his arm. You watched as he laid it out on the ground, pulling plates and silverware from the basket along with a candelabra. Ryuga settled himself as Watari lit the candles, then gestured for you to do the same. The only clear spot to sit was right beside him, and you took it as gracefully as possible. 

“I have brought sandwiches and various tea cakes,” Watari explained, “along with Keemun Mao Feng tea and honey. I hope you enjoy.”

You both thanked him and he left, closing the roof exit behind him. L sat, perching next to you, watching as you admired the display. 

“It’s all my favourites,” You observed. “Why did you ask him to bring this?”

His thumb came to rest on his lip, gauging your reaction. 

“I knew you would be getting hungry soon. I told Watari to bring some acceptable food if you didn’t grab any on your way up.”

You furrowed your brows in innocent confusion, “How did you know I’d come?”

His head turned away and you notice his feet shuffling, a tell for his anxiety. 

“You always do.” He said with a shrug. 

Your heart thumped affectionately as he turned his head, and your gaze fell back onto the band of sterling silver in his eyes. You smiled fondly at the man, and he had to look away. He busied himself with the basket, pulling out nicely wrapped sandwiches in brown butcher paper. He read the options out for you and passed you your selections. He then reached in and pulled out a white box with a blue bow. He began to tug at it, then stopped, offering it to you. 

You giggled, unravelling the satin ribbon. When he pulled off the lid, a tiered display stand stood with ten layers of tiny cakes with an array of colours, creams, and toppings. L looked over the selection with a careful eye, then chose a spongy square with a raspberry on top. He pinched it between his fingers and brought it to his lips. You watched his selection process as you braided the ribbon into a piece of your hair, presenting it to your friend with a smile. He nodded in approval, and then you finally took a bite of your sandwich, moaning as the myriad of flavours filled your senses. 

“Oh my god, this is delicious,” you said, pushing it towards Ryusaki, “You’ve gotta try it.”

His chewing stops as he eyes the sandwich in front of him like it were a loaded gun. 

“I’m okay.” He said politely. 

You accepted his dismissal, taking another bite from your sandwich, but still curious about it. 

“Why don’t you eat anything but sugar?” You asked through a mouthful of sourdough. 

“Well,” Ryusaki began, “Desserts tend to be more homogeneous in texture and taste. I find most ‘real’ food reduces my deductive skills by approximately twenty-five percent.”

You looked up at the beauty of the ending day around you and breathed in the air of the city. 

“Do you need your deductive skills right now?” You asked softly, eyes still trained on the sky. 

Moments passed in peaceful silence. You could hear a dog barking and the mummer of the life teeming below you. People going about their everyday lives, despite the horror of this new world. You tried to join them now and then, encouraging Ryusaki to do the same– to have a life outside of, despite of Kira. From your peripherals, you saw him spread his knees apart, sitting in a cross-legged position. You watched as he continued adjusting, trying to find a comfortable position. When he settled, you turned your eyes to his. 

“Would you like some tea?” You asked. 

He nodded his head, and you poured him half a cup from the teapot, filling the rest with cream and sugar, just the way he liked it. He thanked you when you passed it to him, fingers brushing briefly. You could tell he was a little uncomfortable, probably much more in tune with the “loss of thought” he was experiencing than any other person would be. He held his cup in both hands, elbows resting on his knees as he looked into the wheat-coloured drink. You left L to his thoughts, knowing he would share them if he deemed them important. You instead focused on tucking the rest of your sandwich away, opening another to try. You were happy Watari cared enough to cut them into little triangles. 

“What are your plans after the Kira case?”

You nearly choked on your sandwich, not expecting the question. You wiped at your mouth with a napkin, trying to grab your composure. 

“I haven’t given much thought to it,” you said, “but I know it will be a bittersweet moment when we catch him.”

Ryuga sat up a little, his interest piqued as he took another sip of his tea. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” you began, “I’ve met a lot of great people by working on this investigation. I don’t imagine our paths will cross much once this is all resolved, even if we do survive. But it makes me happy to think that one day they’ll get to walk into their front doors and hug their families without the fear of them being ripped away as collateral damage.”

“Not to mention,” You continued, “at the risk of sounding selfish, this job has some really nice perks. I’m compensated well, I get free room and board, I haven’t done my own laundry in four months, and I can even get company-provided gourmet picnics on the rooftop. There’s a lot to miss.”

“I must admit, I will miss the camaraderie,” L said softly. “But I fear the fallout from Kira’s arrest more.”

You knew what he meant. If he was right, and Light and Misa were Kira and The Second Kira, then it would destroy the task force. Matsuda’s heart would shatter, as would Mogi’s, though he’d hide it better than the former. Chief Yagami would likely suffer another heart attack, or perhaps snap entirely. And while you yourself didn’t want to believe it, you couldn’t deny what you knew was true. With the proof of shinigami's existence and an otherworldly murder weapon disguised as a harmless notebook downstairs, nothing could be ruled out. You questioned what other powers came with the notebook, and how those powers transferred. 

Bribing Ryuke into answering all your questions was easy enough. It turns out he had never known the taste of a Fuji apple, only enjoying the common red delicious. One was enough to get him hooked. You presented everything you had learned about ownership of the notebook, how it can be passed, and how it affects the user. You and L had come to the same conclusion: sometime in Light’s confinement, he transferred ownership, as did Misa. You knew for sure when Misa visited Light the other day in the lobby. 

At the beginning of the investigation, he refused to toy with her emotions, as it went against his code. And you found it comforting, knowing Kira would have no problem doing that, and Light was immediately opposed. For months, he made no effort to show affection to Misa, rebuffing any advance or innuendo she made, but you watched as he brought her into a hug. You watched as she melted into it, savouring the sparring touch and every word he whispered into her ear. You knew he hadn’t magically fallen in love with the girl, but was using the love she had for him. 

Yes, Light had changed, and the repercussions were terrifying.

Ryusaki was silent. By now, the sun had set, and the moon began climbing up a ladder of stars. The candlelight flickered, making shadows jump and jive across your friend’s face. The shifts were jarring, but the gentle lighting softened his hardened edges. Your eyes traced the slope of his nose, down his plush lips, and his long neck. You wished to stretch out a curious finger to replace your itinerant eyes. 

“Would you like a cake?” Ryusaki asked, changing the subject. You allowed the distraction, deciding you would bring it up again later, but not know. 

You selected one with orange filling and chocolate drizzle. It was delicious, falling apart in your fingers as you ate it. You heard a soft chuckle leave your friend's mouth and you looked up at him confused. He said nothing, instead motioning towards his face. You tilted your head, not understanding what he meant. Before you could ask, L brought a napkin to the corner of your mouth, gently rubbing it across your bottom lip. 

Your heart stopped beating and your lungs stopped breathing. His touch was like the flames of the flickering candles, igniting the skin he polished. His eyes flicked up to yours and you were lost in a pool of obsidian, his pupils vast in the stary night. 

“There,” he said softly, “all gone.”

You searched for your voice, and it came out in a breathy whisper, “Thanks.”

He continued, unbothered by the unprecedented physical contact while you took a sip of your tea, in hopes that would help your unsteady heart. Before you had much time to recover, He spoke again. 

“My favourite colour is blue.”

You blinked dumbly, at the man as he readjusted uncomfortably. 

“My favourite cake is Strawberry Vanilla Sponge Cake,” He continued, “and I sing in the shower.”

You laughed out of shock, and words continued to spill from his mouth like he couldn’t stop them. 

“If I could have a superpower, I would want invisibility. I think four-leaf clovers are ridiculously overblown, but I admire their inherent whimsy. I really like The Beatles, which is very embarrassing as I am British. But even more so because I listen to ‘We Can Work It Out’ when I get frustrated. They bring me a sort of comfort. I’ve always wanted a cat. I think it’s funny when they’re given people names, or named after ridiculous things. If I had one, I’d get a tuxedo cat and name it 3,4,4,5-tetramethylcyclohexa-2,5-dien-1-one.” You open your mouth to ask what that was, but he answered it before you could, “It’s a cyclic dienone, more commonly known as penguinone, and though it has no applicable uses, it’s funny.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his sudden urge to tell you all of these things. In his unblinking eyes, you saw something close to desperation and it confused you, forcing you to look away. You missed the way Ryusaki’s face fell. 

“Are you…upset?” he asked cautiously. “I’m sorry if I overshared.”

“No, no,” You reassured, trying to alleviate some of the guilt that filled your chest at his apprehension. “I’m just confused”

“I was trying to establish trust,” he explained cooly. 

Your brows furrowed, “Do you think I don’t trust you?”

“No, I-” he paused, releasing a sigh that moved his shoulders. 

“Ignore me,” he said sadly, “Nothing I say lately seems to make much sense.”

Your heart shattered at the uncertainty in his voice. He usually spoke with such conviction. To hear him unsure, insecure in sensibility– his intelligence, really –it made you nauseous. 

“Ryusaki,” you began, but he looked away. 

“Ryusaki,” you tried again, this time resting a hand on his shoulder, “your sense is still very intact. You’re not the crazy one.”

He looked at your hand, where it rested without hesitancy. 

“Look,” you continued, “Someone is trying to kill you. And it could very likely be your best friend. You’re making more sense than anyone else would in your situation.”

Suddenly his eyes shot to yours. There was a small fire burning there, and you worried that you had upset him. You began to remove your hand, but he rested his on yours, keeping it pressed against his shoulder. Your heart leapt at the contact, and you prayed he didn’t notice. Though, if you knew anything about Ryusaki, he did and already tucked it away as useful information. 

“Light Yagami is not my best friend.” He said simply, “You are.” 

You couldn’t fight the smile that sprouted from the sentiment. 

“Really?” You asked in disbelief.

“Of course, I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Your smile grew more teasing, “But you didn’t even chain yourself to me.”

L smiled too, “I didn’t have to.”

Time passed in silence. It was a bit awkward, your hand remained on his shoulder as the candles burned. You were getting chilly, the night air nipping at you through your t-shirt. L’s hand kept yours still, you were much too nervous to move it away. Especially when you could see your friend thinking very hard. 

He suddenly turned toward you, removing his hand and jostling yours. His thumb came to his lip, running it across and moving the muscle. 

“There are a lot of social customs that I haven’t gotten to participate in, due to my isolated childhood, and even more so because of my dangerous career,” he said, “for instance, I had never had friends until this investigation, and now I have three. But that also means I haven’t experienced a lot of the common experiences that come with friendship.”

He looked you over, trying to gauge your reaction thus far. You seemed at ease but attentive. His eyes darted to the blue streak in your hair, and felt a warmth blossoming in his chest. He was amazed by how light-hearted you could be, despite the heavy burdens you carried. You shone so brightly, he was almost embarrassed to ask you to share.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to help me with that. I think it’s important to my development, and general understanding of the human condition.”

You were delighted to hear that he was thinking about such “trivial” things. As you became closer to L, you quickly realised that he lived a very lonely life. You could tell he had convinced himself that was what he wanted, but you knew a life of work wasn’t enough, and he deserved more. You always encouraged him to take care of more than his brain; to value his body and his spirit as well. 

“Of course L,” you nearly cheered, “what did you have in mind?”

You waited patiently for his response, trying your best not to shrink under his gaze. You were sure that his eyes were a large reason as to why he made such a great detective. When he focused his eyes on someone, it made them feel see-through; like he could see everything that made up that person. Like he could read your thoughts. 

“Can I-“ he began, then stopped. It was rare to see him trip over his words. “I would like- would it be okay if we hugged?”

Lightning struck across the sky, and you flinched, startled by the sound. You looked up into the dark, trying to find the flash of light you knew was long gone. You spotted the thick, rolling clouds hovering above you, and you hadn’t noticed before. Then the thunder rumbled, and the cry was resonant, penetrating your bones as it rolled through you. Then slowly, rain began falling from the sky. A few drops landed on your face, and you could feel them beginning to stick to your clothes. 

When your shock faded away, you looked back at your friend. He was looking at you intently, hunched over like always. You opened your mouth to respond, but L spoke before you. 

“Let’s step inside,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder like you had before, “you’re shivering.”

You hadn’t realised that you were, but as you looked down at your hands, you couldn’t deny the tremble. He stood and began packing up everything on the blanket, refusing your help when you offered even though the rain had picked up. It was steady now, easily soaking through your clothes and his in turn. Once everything was tucked away, he guided you inside, opening the door for you. 

As you walked down the steps, your mind spun around his words. He had asked to hug you, someone who you thought would be pretty averse to physical touch. You were surprised he let you lay a hand on him at all, and even more surprised when he reciprocated the action. It could’ve just been an experiment, a test to see how it made him feel, but you found yourself reviewing your own results. 

You hadn’t really touched L before. There was no reason to. Even when he fell out of his chair over the whole “Shinigami” thing, you let the others crowd him. Your hands had maybe brushed here and there when passing sweets or documents, but intentional, prolonged contact was never made until today. You couldn’t deny his behaviour had been odd lately, though that was to be expected with the stress he was under. You wondered if he was indulging out of curiosity or a fear of missing out on life. 

You jumped again as another bolt of lightning struck across the sky, followed by the soft beginnings of rain, now slowly collecting on the glass walls around you. You began walking down the hall and jerked your head to beckon Ryusaki, who seemed deep in thought. You watched the rain grow, drops colliding and running down the glass. You stopped to trace the tracks left, your body shuttering against the cold.

“I’m sorry,” your friend spoke quietly, as there was no one but you here, and no reason to raise a voice. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You looked at him with shock, but he refused to look at you. 

“Ryusaki, I haven’t felt uncomfortable around you since we started this investigation. Why would that change now?” When he didn’t respond, you bumped his shoulder with yours, “Seriously though, if you ever do make me uncomfortable, I won’t let you live it down.”

“Good,” he said, nodding his head. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You both continued to stare off into the distance in silence. You began breathing out hot puffs of air and drawing in the condensation. Meaningless shapes littered the space as you got lost in your thoughts. 

You felt stuck between knowing and knowing nothing. You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Your thoughts were interrupted once again when you felt a weight on your shoulders, and you looked down to see pale, slender hands embellished with tendons and glistening in the light. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing him appear so close behind you in your shared reflection. 

“You’re still shivering.” He didn’t look at you, his eyes obscured by his shaggy hair, “A blanket should help.” 

You offered a kind, timid smile in thanks, turning to face him. Your cheeks filled with blood though you couldn’t quite pin down why. Maybe it was just because he was touching you again when he’s never really done that before. Or maybe it was the fact that he was concerned about you. Or maybe it was the intimacy of it all, how close he was and how gentle his touch was. 

His hallowed, all-seeing eyes met yours and you lost your breath. You wanted to look away, feeling pierced by his gaze, but you couldn’t– you wouldn’t. “If this isn’t sufficient, let me know. It’s my fault you’re cold.”

“No, it’s not,” You chuckled as he adjusted the material on your shoulder, “I walked out willingly. Yeah, you baited me into staying with food and tea, but I saw your plan, and I decided to go along with it.”

L smiled shyly, “I never could fool you.”

Your brows furrowed, and your heart sank. 

“Can.” You corrected sternly. “You never can fool me.”

“Ah, Of course.” L said, removing his hands from you and tucking them back into his pockets, “You’re too observant for me to keep a secret. You’re always the first in the room to know what I’m thinking.”

He didn’t directly address his slip-up– referring to himself in the past tense as if he had died –so you didn’t either, instead filing that away under “more things to bring up later”. 

“What can I say?” You teased. “Great minds think alike.”

“That they do,” he muttered, though you could tell his mind had taken him far away again. 

You turned back to the window, and he joined you there. The rain had picked up, the heavy clouds drawing nearer. Your body buzzed with the electricity in the air. You could feel the winds of change surging through the city, and it filled you with determination.

“You should change,” Ryusaki whispered, “you’ll catch a cold.”

“Please,” You said, rolling your eyes and landing on his. “We were out there for less than an hour, and it never dropped below four degrees.”

“That’s still rather cold,” He hid his eyes from you, and you missed the sparks he carried there. “Not to mention the addition of rain.”

“If you’re so worried about my immune system,” you quipped, “studies show that hugs can actually help fight illness.”

That got a reaction out of the man, whipping his head to look at you. 

“Is that so?” He asked, amusement teeming in his thin, grey irises. “Is it the exposure to more germs?”

“Possibly,” You admitted, “But it’s mostly the stress relief. Hugs reduce your cortisol and noradrenaline levels, improving blood pressure and general heart health. Also, with both of our body heats working together, it might help warm me up.”

L brought his thumb to his lip again, pondering your words. 

“Maybe you have a point.” He muttered, “Perhaps we should test this theory.”

You agreed but neither of you moved, both too afraid to make the first move. You had hugged people before. You had hugged your family and many friends, so hugging Ryusaki shouldn’t be that nerve-racking, and yet, your body was buzzing just at the concept. 

Suddenly, L Spread his arms, his figure drowning in his baggy sweater. It happened in slow motion, or at least it felt like it did. He dove towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around you, unintentionally pinning yours to your side, and his chin landed on the crown of your head gently. 

You tensed, not expecting him to just go for it. Your face was pressed into his chest, your nose brushing his collarbone because of how his sweater had shifted. You were suddenly self-conscious breathing on him, trying your best to make sure your lungs were expanding and contracting naturally, but you could feel the awkwardness in your muscles. 

“I don’t think this is working,” He said, his jaw moving against your head, “Your heart rate has only elevated. This seems to be…bothersome to you.”

He slowly removed himself but remained close, focusing his trying eyes on you, hands back in his pockets. “Please, tell me how you feel.”

“Well, firstly, you surprised me.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. Laughter bubbled up due to his unwavering gaze that affected you, though you didn’t want to concede to that. “And second, I’m not sure that counted as a hug. You trapped my arms, so I couldn’t reciprocate it properly.”

“I see,” He said, not showing any emotion you could detect (And you had gotten pretty good at reading L at this point). “What can I do better?”

His determination was…adorable. He was adamant about this, about hugging you better. You wouldn’t have thought this was something he ranked so highly in importance, and you felt flattered. 

“Open your arms again,” You instructed, scooting closer. 

He followed your orders, his head tilting to the side in curiosity. You took a quick breath, then brought your arms around his waist, then rested your ear between his pecs. There you heard his heart. You expected a steady thrum, but instead, the muscle beat like a kick drum without cause. But you supposed if you only fed your body sugar and caffeine, your heart would go crazy too.

He was also much comfier than you expected his skin and bones to be. His frame felt right in your arms, and a word flitted through your mind: safe. He was safe here in your arms, and you felt safe here too. 

You remembered then that he was still standing there with his arms fully extended, like an owl stretching their wings. 

“You can wrap your arms around me like before now,” You said into his chest. 

He did as you said, and you felt an instant relief. Your blanket was wrapped around him, and you were surrounded by L. He was soft, like the petals of a Gardinia– like the ones your mother used to grow. He smelled like chocolate and strawberries, though with his diet, you were sure he sweated out sugar. In the refracted light the droplets cast, it looked just like that, like sugar crystals dancing across his skin.

Your nose picked up hints of lavender you recognised as the fabric softener Watari swore by. You wanted to bottle the sents and wear them yourself. You found yourself snuggling in closer, drawn in by the comforts of L.

You sighed in contentment, closing your eyes. His heartbeat stabilized, beating slower but strong. Slowly, he adjusted himself, bringing his arms tighter around you and turning so his ear rested against you and not his hewn jaw. Many moments went by like that, with nothing but the instrumental played by the rain, steady breathing, and hearts beating. As time went on, your heartbeats began to sync, beating together. You felt warmth spread throughout you at the thought. You liked this. You liked being close to Ryusaki. 

“How long do these usually last?” He whispered into the rich silence. 

“It depends on the friends, everyone’s comfort levels.” You replied thoughtfully. “Some people only hug for a few seconds; others hold each other like this. But it’s recommended that you get at least four hugs a day.”

He hummed, considering your answer. “I definitely haven’t been fulfilling that quota.”

“It’s okay,” You said through a laugh, “Me either.”

“Perhaps,” L said, putting on his detective voice, “If you have found this as enjoyable as I, we could do this more often– try to reach that benchmark more. The act of hugging seems to increase my oxytocin levels, which feels different than the dopamine confections give me. If it affects you the same way, I think that could be good for us both.”

Your laughter danced across this skin. “I can’t believe you can feel the difference between happy hormones.”

“Of course I can.” He said, completely unphased by your disbelief. “Dopamine feels more like I’m doing a good job, and Oxytocin is…”

You waited patiently while he found the words. 

“Oxytocin makes me more…sentimental,” He landed on. 

“I guess that makes sense,” You mumbled into his chest. “Weirdo.”

He chuckled at the title that would have hurt coming from anyone else. 

“I would be okay with that,” You said, addressing his proposal, “If we hugged more often.”

“Great,” He said, and you could hear his smile. L could feel how the cold continued to cling to your skin. Although hugs were supposed to help fight illness, he doubted it was a cure. “We should finish up then so you can change.”

He released his hold on you and began to pull away, but without thinking, you held on tighter, your brows furrowing. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I’m not sure,” you said honestly. “I just don’t want to leave this.” L brought a hand to his chin, cradling it and trying his best not to jostle you. “Is it the hug that you want, or is it me?”

Your eyes bugged at his question. Immediately, you let go, creating distance as you jumped back. You reacted as if he had struck you instead of asking a straightforward question to better understand the situation. 

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, not unlike a fish plucked from the water.

“Well, I- It’s uh…I mean- heh -what?” You stumbled. Again, L’s shark skin eyes bore into yours, dissecting every stutter and stammer.

“I believe the question was fairly easy to comprehend.” He said plainly, “I asked if it was the hug you wanted or me.”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks. 

“I understood the question,” You weakly defended. 

L’s head dropped once again to the side, his hair flopping loosely as he moved but still weighing down over his face. 

“Then answer it.”

You swallowed. He had cornered you, baiting you by insinuating you weren’t as intelligent as he thought and getting you to confess that you in fact were not confused. But in truth, you were. Because it was true that you were extremely touched-starved. You had dedicated the better half of the last year to catching Kira. You hadn’t had time for much else. You weren’t exactly popular before either. 

You were a criminal, a cyber-robinhood. You had stolen from several pharmaceutical companies and redistributed their funds to families in need. You thought it absolutely abhorrent that the companies could make money off of cancer and diabetes, depriving people of medicine they needed, not wanted. You had done it with your best friend, who was killed by Kira.

She had taught you the ropes and how to hide yourself from the authorities. She, however, had crossed the line. She began targeting government officials, leaking their private messages and phone records to the public. You would have thought that would align with Kira’s morals, but you guess not because she died of a heart attack in your arms. You hadn’t made a friend since, not until Ryusaki. 

You didn’t want him to leave you too. You were terrified that he would be ripped away from you, much like your friend before. But it was more than that. You wanted Ryusaki to live. You wanted him to have a full life, one of joy and contentment. One where his intelligence wasn’t weaponised. One where he could let his guard down and not break his back with his posture. You wanted him to drown in hugs, to never be deprived of comfort again. And you wanted to be by his side to see it.

You had become very attached to the man before you. You admired him, respected him. You found yourself trying to be more like him in many ways. And you felt pride every time he mimicked you. 

“I don’t know.”

L was unconvinced, leaning in closer, “Yes, you do. But you won’t say.”

You stared into his eyes, words eluding you. What could you say? You weren’t even sure what you wanted, what your answer would be. He looked at you curiously, awaiting your response. When you had none, he sighed. 

“Fine then,” He said, turning his investigative gaze away from you. “I will escort you to your room. Hopefully, that will satisfy you.”

You had requested a room here at headquarters and were unsurprised when L told you that he had already built one for everyone on the task force. You had all but moved in during the Kira case. You hadn’t meant to, but it was just easier than taking the train alone after a late night of investigating. With no one to stop you, you would stay up until three ante merīdiem, studying and analysing trends. Sometimes you would crash at your desk, but usually, you would drag yourself away when you noticed your eyes becoming heavy. But now, your apartment was more of a formality than anything else. L knew this and made no comments on the matter. He was happy you stayed here instead, and that the rooms weren’t a complete waste of time and effort. 

As you travelled through the silent halls, you brought your blanket tighter around your shoulders, tensing your jaw so your teeth didn’t chatter. Ryusaki seemed unbothered by the cold. He showed no signs of discomfort other than the way his shoulders folded forward more than they usually did. You wondered if he was just suppressing them or if he truly wasn’t cold. But then you saw a small shiver travel down his spine. 

“You never told me,” you said softly, “what you were doing out there?”

His steady pace was unwavering, his bare feet gently padding across the tiled floors of the hall. 

“Thinking,” He replied but offered nothing more. 

“Of course you were thinking, that’s all you know to do. ” You joked, “What were you thinking about?”

He took a few more steps, then stopped. You continued forward until you were standing side by side. He stared ahead, but you turned to face him. You watched as his face remained flat, unchanged. 

“I was thinking about my death,” he said plainly, continuing his previous pace. “I reviewed my mental record of my will, noting necessary amendments. Due to recent events, I felt it something I reconsider.”

Your stomach twisted at his casualness, and you looked away. How could he say that and have no feeling about it? Or rather, rationalize whatever feelings he had about the situation away?

“You-” You began, your words tripping over the lump in your throat, “you shouldn’t talk like that. You’re not going to die.”

You said it with finality, though your friend heard the subtle desperation, the fear beneath your bravado. 

He stopped again, and when you turned to him, he turned as well. His eyes seemed almost hollow as he spoke. 

“We all die. And I happen to find myself in a position in which I am taunting the reaper.”

L did a lot of staring, and this one you took as a personal challenge. He knew what you meant, and he was purposefully not addressing it. You weren’t backing down; you weren’t folding for him. The other members of the task force often forgot that he was human; you refused to forget. While he was smarter than anyone you had ever met, he wasn’t a supercomputer. He had hopes and dreams; he had fears. 

“We’re here,” he said, interrupting this game of blink.

You hadn’t realised you had arrived at your room and hesitated at the door. 

“Would you like me to step inside?” He offered. 

You nodded. 

“Very well then.”

He opened the door and you stepped in. He closed the door behind him, then stood a few feet into the room, scratching at his leg with his foot. You made your way to your closet, selecting a new shirt and some sweatpants, then went to your dresser, selecting new undergarments.

L looked to the wall after catching a glimpse of the lacey bra you balanced from your finger. You looked to your friend, ready to ask him to turn around, when you noticed his head already turned and a slight rosy hue crawling up his exposed neck. He was usually so devoid of colour; the splash of pink was a nice touch. You wondered what had flustered him and if it had anything to do with you. The thought made you excited, but you chose not to acknowledge that. 

“I’m changing now,” You said, turning away from him. 

L tried his best to keep his eyes off of you, but soon, your hands were in the air as you peeled off your shirt, and his curiosity won. His eyes traced over the exposed skin, counting the vertebrae up your back. His breath hitched slightly as you reached behind you and unlatched your bra. He caught himself imagining what it would look like if you were turned around and ripped his eyes away again. After all, you were his friend, and it was inappropriate to think such things about a friend. Especially one that trusted him enough to change in front of him. He would rather die than abuse your trust. 

Soon, you were wiggling out of your pants, and his eyes betrayed him, following the movement of your hands. The cotton panties you wore were nothing special, plain and purple and a bit cheeky. It clung to the shape of your ass beautifully. His eyes bugged involuntarily, and he decided he could no longer trust himself to be facing you and turned his body. 

As he faced the wall, he considered your interactions today. You had sought him out and then joined him outside despite knowing the discomfort the cold would bring you. Meaning you valued his amusement more than your comfort. You entertained his tangents and encouraged him to try new things, which meant that his general well-being must be something of importance to you. Why else would you go out of your way to protect it?

Yes, you wanted him to be happy and made that a responsibility of your own. You coached him through a new experience and reassured his insecurities about it. He had hugged you for two minutes and thirty seconds, but you had held him for two minutes and thirty-nine seconds. So you enjoyed the physical comfort, and obviously desired more, as you only stopped when he shocked you. 

That’s right, you pulled away when he asked if you "wanted him." So enjoying his company was fine, but once "wanting" became a part of the equation, you rejected it. Or tried your best to. But you didn’t deny that you still desired his presence, allowing him to escort you to your room, where you took off your clothes in front of him. 

When he looked at the incidents individually, it could all be chalked up to you being a good friend– one who trusted and respected him –but he was a better detective than that. He also knew to look at the big picture. In his mind, he replaced himself with other people, like puppets in a play, and saw how your reactions changed.

He found it hard to believe that you would allow someone else on the team to hold you for two minutes, lure you into the rain, or risk them seeing you in your underwear. Which begged the question, why do you treat him differently? How does your perception of him differ from the others?

Then it became abundantly clear, and he was shocked. The conclusion he came to seemed ludicrous, and yet, it was the only one that made sense-- the only one that stood with the evidence. How could this be? There was only one way to know. 

He called your name and you hummed in response, putting on a new shirt and turning to face him. 

“You evaded my question.” He remarked, still looking at the wall. “However, I think your evasion– and the several events surrounding it –has given me a more clear understanding of the answer you were guarding.”

You felt a general unease, not sure you liked the direction his inquisitive mind was heading. You wrung your hands anxiously in front of you, looking at the back of his head. You should have known L wouldn’t let that go. 

“I told you I didn’t know.”

He turned quickly, catching you off guard. He was once again very close to you, his eyes dancing with curiosity and a bit of pride. It was a look you saw when he presented a theory based on new evidence he had finally made sense of that had previously baffled the team. You knew he was confident in whatever he had deduced and was more amused by your responses, watching carefully with a thumb pressed to his lip just a few inches away from your face. 

“But I don’t think it was the complete truth,” he pressed, “which makes it a lie of omission.”

“I didn’t lie,” You quickly defended. 

“But I saw it: a realisation flitting across your face. You looked at the evidence and came to a conclusion. You have some idea as to why you reacted to my question the way you did, and you have an answer. Does the answer put you in a position of vulnerability perhaps?”

You gaped at him, unsure how to respond. However, he continued to think aloud, answering your question for you with his own ramblings. 

“Yes, that must be it. In answering whether you merely wanted more affection or me, it would force you to admit that you had a need that wasn’t being met. And since we had already discussed our general lack of affection in day-to-day life, revealing that you felt you wanted more hugs would not make you uncomfortable… no, it has to be me that you want. That’s the only reason you would react that way. Which makes me wonder, in what way do you want me?

“My phrasing may have impacted your response, as ‘want’ can mean different things in certain contexts. However, if you thought of me in a strictly platonic sense, you would not have assumed I meant anything more than my company. There is, of course, the possibility that previous interactions in male friendships lead you to believe I meant something else, but I think it is more likely that you interpreted it romantically because you have– on some level –romantic feelings for me. And by answering the question honestly, you would have revealed that.”

He paused for a moment before asking, “Am I right?”

Your brain was spinning, repeating every word he had said. He waited patiently as you mulled it over. You tried to disprove his theory, picking each line and defending the opposite, but it became harder and harder the longer you went on. You weren’t sure how you saw the man in front of you. He was your friend, someone you respected and cared for. You valued his opinion and you listened to his advice. But you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive. You had since you first met him. 

After your friend had died, it didn’t take you long to piece together that it was Kira who killed her. You brought your theory to the police, but they didn’t take you seriously. Apparently, there had been many false reports of Kira's murders, and yours was the fifteenth report that day. You continued to argue, but you didn’t even get past the front desk. That night, when you got back home, you decided you would do everything you could to catch the killer. You broke into the police database– which was entirely too easy –then followed up with everyone they suspected. You used your skills to hack into the suspects' computers, scouring through their histories and files, but didn’t find anything incriminating. Except for one man. 

He was too innocent, not even a record of porn on his computer. Most of his search results were quiz questions with brief breaks spent streaming funny videos. He was a studious pupil and the son of a cop. You consulted the police’s notes often and were surprised when they claimed it could be a student. Then soon after, the pattern of killings changed, further proving the theory.

You were convinced it was Light Yagami, but you needed more. So you tried to hack into L’s computer. You knew from the police notes of the meetings that L called in using a computer, meaning he had to have a Wi-Fi connection to talk to them in real time. It took you a while to hack the secure connection, and even longer to get into the computer. You felt defeated– outsmarted –when you realised the only thing on the device was whatever system he used for the calls and whatever connection he used for that was heavily encrypted. 

You thought nothing more of the event until you were picked up off the street a few weeks later. You were grabbed and bound, the assailant immediately gagging and blindfolding you. The drive was long, and you were taken somewhere with winding hallways and cold rooms. You were restrained to a table, straps keeping you upright, and then your gag was removed. 

You yelled in anger, cursing your capture and illustrating all the ways in which you would make them suffer for treating you this way. You only stopped when a robotic voice filled the room. It asked who you were, but you ignored its question, connecting the dots. 

“You’re L,” You said plainly, “The renowned detective. You’ve solved every case you’ve ever taken on. And you apprehended me– confining me and taking away my vision –meaning you must think I’m Kira. You know who I am, that’s why you’ve taken me in.”

He confirmed your suspicions and listed out the crimes you had committed, and your behaviours that made him suspect you. You couldn’t deny his deductions, and instead of trying to prove your innocence, you told him about your own mission to catch Kira. You even apologised for trying to hack him as well, “but you understand, I had to try.”

He kept you tied up for a few, very long days, then let you walk around the room, giving you access to a bed and a few books. Now and then he would check in on you and offered to make amends for the misunderstanding. You only requested that he hear you out. 

You told him about your theories and how you were disregarded by the police. He was the first person to tell you that he believed your friend was murdered and that it had more to do with them talking out against Kira online than the crimes they had committed. And that only angered you more.

Soon, he began to trust you. He showed you his face. He was nothing like you imagined, but everything you expected. He was odd; he looked almost sickly and was very deadpan. But he had a sense of humour, one that was just as odd as him. He was straightforward forward, and you didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking, as he often shared his thoughts. He was kind, having an obvious affinity for sweets, but always willing to share with you. He asked about you and your life, and you could tell he was cataloguing everything you had to say. He listened so intently when you spoke. 

You only grew closer, looking forward to your meetings in the following weeks, and were elated when he told you about the new headquarters and how he wanted to introduce you to the rest of the team. He was impressed by your resourcefulness and intellect, but more importantly your passion. You were driven by revenge, but soon that changed. L believed in you, and you wanted to honour that. 

Despite his quarks, you saw his soft underside, and it drew you in more. He was fascinating to you, alluring. 

Was that normal for a friend? To simply see them and feel better, to seek out their company? Yeah, you guess it was, but you didn’t think it was as normal to think your friend is pretty. Friends don’t trace jaw lines or let their eyes linger on outstretched fingers and moving lips. Is that what you were feeling? Was your confusion and nervousness a result of an unrealised crush on your friend?

“Oh, I see,” Ryusaki mumbled, “It wasn’t an intentional lie; you only just now realised.”

You hated that he could read you as well as he could, and suddenly his proximity was suffocating. You stepped back, hiding from his gaze in your hands. It was bad enough that you had feelings for your best and only friend, but to come to that realisation in front of them –when they have the uncanny ability to practically read minds –was mortifying. You were cornered and unsure what to say. You didn’t even have time to consider what you wanted to do about your feelings before they were made known. 

You could try to deny it, but you didn’t think that would work. Not against L. So you decided to look deeper. You had pieced together how your interactions proved you liked him, but how did L fare? You compared his behaviour towards you to the others. He was kinder with you, often wording things gentler to you than he would care to for anyone else. He provided confections to everyone, but he only offered you bites from his plate. He was more candid about his feelings with you, as well as his thoughts. 

While he often toyed with the investigators, constantly testing their deductive reasoning and loyalty, L only asked what you thought to question his own conclusions. He valued your input more than others on the team, and you knew the task force was aware of that. if you were in the room, Ryusaki was always within arms reach. He never strayed far. He asked about your personal life, and he encouraged you to take breaks. He smiled and laughed around you, something you didn’t see in front of the others. You had seen L’s soft side, but only because he had shown it to you. He was vulnerable with you. But was that just friendship?

No, no there was more. Today, he cared for you, feeding you and treating you to a picnic. He apologised for your condition, completely disregarding his own. He did his best to atone for the wrong he felt he had done, going as far as to wrap you in his own warmth. He didn’t need to. He sought out the contact. Contact he didn’t look for elsewhere. Contacted he requested and asked for more of, in a less than graceful way. Tripping over words was out of character for the normally articulate detective. 

He then stayed by your side, escorting you to your room, again, disregarding the fact that he too was cold and rained on. Furthermore, any other friend would have turned away from you while you changed, but he faced you. You remembered the blush on his face before you changed. Either the idea of you undressing or something he saw you were changing into caused that response. You had difficulty believing this came from a general lack of experience with women. 

If Misa changed in front of him (which is an unavoidable event which has already happened with her room being monitored the way it is), you doubted he would have much of a reaction. Yes, you were sure. His flustered state was a result of you. 

You removed your hands from your face and looked at the man of your affection. He wore a curious look, and you smiled. 

“You’re not upset,” he observed, “Usually, people respond badly to my blunt deductions about their emotions. I expected you to yell or deny, but you’ve done neither.”

You chuckled lightly, “I don’t think there’s a way I could have denied that without further confirming your conclusion.”

“Well, your initial response of hiding from me was sufficient.” he said with a bit of smugness, “But I’m curious as to why you no longer feel the need to.”

“I don’t need to hide my feelings if you already know they exist,” you stated calmly, “And I’m sixty-seven percent sure you share my feelings, making them much less frightening.”

Rysuaki’s hidden eyebrows raised, and his eyes widened. You watched smugly as he said nothing, revelling in the pride of shocking even the great L.

You explained how you reached that conclusion, knowing that would be his first question. When you finished, he looked up to the ceiling, reevaluating the evidence. You watched as his careful mind picked apart your deduction and this time you allowed yourself to appreciate his unique beauty.

You traced the slope of his nose, following it down to the tendons in his neck and where his collar bones poked out from his baggy sweater. You greedily observed the way his clothes hung from his body, nearly swallowing him whole. 

“It is true, I am rather fond of you. I made that more obvious than I intended, however, there’s nothing to be done about it now.” He admitted, “I can’t say I’ve ever had much of a love life or much experience with romantic feelings. I’m not sure how to proceed.”

You patted the spot next to you on the bed, and he crossed the room to join you. To your surprise, he sat with his feet on the floor, hands on his thighs. 

“I think this a good place to start,” you said warmly. “We don’t have to do anything about it yet.”

He nodded but didn’t look at you. You could see the gears churning in his head, then you noticed his hands. There were impressions left in his thighs from his strong grip. Was it possible he was nervous? You couldn’t hide the delight the sight brought you. You thought it was adorable that you were something that could cause him so much grief. But you hated it too. 

You placed your hand on his and he tensed slightly, but didn’t push it away. 

“Hey,” you said softly, “Take a breath. Really, I don’t want you to stress over this. You have enough on your plate.”

He looked at your hand, his face level, silently assessing, and you allowed him the space to do so. His hand twitched a bit under yours before he turned it over, his palm meeting yours and his slender fingers weaving between your digits. 

“What if-” he paused, as if not sure he should say what he was thinking. He took a breath as you instructed, then continued. “What if I want to do something about it?”

You couldn’t contain the smile that spread across your face, and you didn’t feel a need to. 

“Then I would ask what you wanted to do.”

"It's not about what I want." He looked at you, eyes wide and panicked. “What if doing something is stupid and puts you in danger?”

You had never seen L so worked up before, and you were stunned for a moment. You realised he was letting you in, even more than before. He was letting you see his fear, something you're not sure he’s shown anyone willingly. And in this moment, you were reminded that he was just a young man. That his life had barely begun. Yet he had seen horrors you couldn’t imagine. 

“If Light is Kira,” he continued, through gritted teeth. “then you are already endangered enough. But if our relationship is now romantic, he may use you to get to me. He would have no problem killing you if it brought him closer to his goal, and we both know that.”

“Ryusaki…” you tried, rubbing your thumb against the back of his cold, clammy hand. “He already knows I care for you. The others have been teasing me about my favouritism for months now. If he thought I knew anything, or that you would tell me anything, he would have already done it. If he could, he'd probably force me to write your name in the book somehow, so he didn’t have to do it himself.” 

The fire in his eyes fizzled, and now he looked deflated again as if his anger was the only thing giving him the energy to fight. 

“Then, I can’t tell you anything,” he concluded, “and that doesn’t make for a very strong relationship. One of secrecy where I’m forced to keep you at a distance…no that won’t do.”

He let go of your hand, looking away and rising to his feet. You felt that familiar tug in your heart, the one you felt at your desk when you realised he wasn’t beside you, the same feeling when he tried to end the hug. It felt like he was leaving you, and this time, it made you angry.

“Fuck that!” you said a little harsher than you intended. L turned to look at you in surprise; you had never raised your voice to him before (Aside from that time he arrested you and you didn’t know it was him you were cursing). “I refuse to let Kira make any decisions for me. That bastard doesn’t get to stop me from doing anything I want. And I want this, I’ll fight for it.”

You spoke with a vicious resolve, and L had to admit, it was intriguing. 

“I’m done letting him ruin my life. I’m taking charge. I know there’s a way to prove it, to get him to confess. We can do it. We’ll catch that monster and frame his head on the wall.”

L was studying you; you could see it in his analytical eyes. 

“‘Monster’ you say…” he wonders aloud, “There are many types of monsters; the one we face now... he’s a lying monster: He’s cunning, posing as a human, though having no understanding of the human heart. He works hard, but only to appease his own hubris. He seeks friendship even though he does not truly know how to love. I had once said, If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by them... because, in truth, I am that monster.”

He locks eyes with you, his gaze resolute.

“Tell me, honestly, how can you hate Kira and care for me? We are the same beast.” His body towered over yours, the shadows of the light obscuring his face under his hair. He was almost intimidating. “I do not fight for justice but my own amusement. How many lives have I disregarded all because I didn’t find the case challenging enough? How many people have I endangered solving this one? I allowed who I believed to be Kira intimate knowledge of the case, all because I thought it made the game more fun. I view people as disposable, just as Kira does, and manipulate them just as freely. Kira and I are cut from the very same cloth. Yet, you despise him and respect me.”

Your stare was hard and unforgiving. Rage shook your body, and L was sure that you had changed your mind. You hated him now, just as you should. 

“No,” You said sternly, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I won’t allow you to lie to me.”

You carefully lifted his chin, forcing him to hear you. 

“You are flawed, yes. You certainly have an ego, but that doesn’t make you a monster. If you were presented with the power of the death note, you wouldn’t use it to make yourself a god. You don’t always fight fair, but the criminals you chase don’t either, and it would be silly to try for the high road. That is what makes you such a great detective. You do what needs to be done. But that’s not why I care about you.”

You saw a flicker of surprise on his face before he buried it once again. 

“I care for you. Not L, the world’s greatest detective. I care for the man who treats me kindly and listens to my woes. I care for the man who checks in to make sure I’ve eaten and taken breaks. I care for the man who is so terrified of himself, he hides away from the world. I care for the man who was cursed with a brilliant mind and raised in a world of evil. I don’t care that you’re a genius, I’d love you dumb. I’m not interested in what you can do for me. I just want you.”

You watched as the man closed his eyes, unable to face your reverent judgment. 

“You could step away right now, and I’d never think less of you. You could imprison Light, right or wrong, and I would stand by you. You could tell me that you don’t want this, and I wouldn’t fight you.” You moved your hand from his chin to rest against his cheek. “But if you bow down to Kira– admit defeat when your heart is still beating –I’ll never forgive you.”

His eyes snapped open, and he scanned your face, looking for a lie, but found one. 

“We live in a world where gods of death are real,” you continued, “And that knowledge has made me realise even more that nothing in life is guaranteed. Nothing other than your own resolve. I chose life, and I wish you would choose the same.”

“You speak as if I am trying to kill myself.” he scrutinised. 

“Since the arrest of Higuchi, you’ve stopped investigating," You pressed, "but we both know it’s not because you think we’ve stopped Kira. There’s still a second notebook- a second Kira. And I’m sure you’ve noticed the change in Yagami, almost as if coming in contact with the book has turned him back into Kira. I see the way he looks at you, the way he studies you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” he confirmed.

“Then why? Why have you stopped trying to catch him? If he is actively trying to catch you– to kill you –and you do nothing to stop it, you are killing yourself. You’re allowing him to win. And I can’t– no, I won’t catch him without you.”

“You wouldn’t avenge me?” He asked curiously. 

“I’m here for my own selfish reasons,” you reminded him, “If you die, then everyone I have left will have been taken by Kira. What motivation would I have left to stop him?”

“I see…” he said flatly, “so if Kira is to be caught, we must both live to see it happen.” 

“Yes, but more so, I would blame you for your death. Avenging you wouldn’t be possible, as you and your killer would be one and the same. I would hate you.”

His hand joined yours, guiding it away from his face and holding it at his side.

“I’m not sure I could rest knowing you hated me. Not when you’re the only person I trust and the only person I can say I’ve ever cared for– besides Watari, of course,” He said softly, “But in all honesty, I’m not sure what to make of it. I can’t control you, and I have no desire to, but allowing you to grow any closer to me is dangerous. And I would hate myself if anything happened to you.”

His fingers traced over the creases in your hand as he spoke, memorising the fate lines. 

“But I can’t deny the attachment I have for you.” he continued, “It clouds my judgement, and I spend valuable time constantly correcting it. I’ve been indulging in delusions of running away with you. Taking you far away from the danger, placing you in a secure palace where you want for nothing, allowing you to lose yourself in all the simple pleasures your poetic mind can conjure. I would rather collect a list of books for your library than face Kira at the moment.”

You felt like crying, his words striking your heart. While it was easy to deduce that he favoured you over the others, such a blatant confession wasn’t something you expected. You knew this fantasy was built in his mind as something to make you happy, but you knew that this was something he wanted as well. To live a life of ease, not as a pawn to world governments. To be free to have intelligence and not be weaponised. You realised then, he was tired. He was exhausted from chasing Kira, exhausted from comparing himself to the enemy. 

“Let’s get out of here then.”

He looked at you curiously. 

“You can afford a break, a real one. Your mind is scattered, and you can’t possibly expect to outsmart Kira if you’re worrying about everything else.” You explained, “I’ll talk to Watari about planning a secure getaway for you but for now…”

You softly grabbed his hand and led him towards the door, “We’re going to your room so you can change. Then we’ll discuss what we’re doing for the night.”

He allowed you to lead him down the hall, saying nothing while you travelled. He only spoke again after you stepped into his room. 

“I am not often surprised,” he marveled “But you continue to amaze me. I can’t predict you. You’re courageous and strong-willed, but always kind. You’re extremely brilliant, but you’re humble about it. But most amazingly, you believe in me– not because of what I’ve done, but because of who I am –and I’ve never met someone who could separate the two.”

You flush under his praise, “You say you can’t predict me, but I swear, you see right through me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with panic in his eyes, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You laughed, the sound affecting L more than he expected. He loved it, loved making you laugh. He wanted to do it as much as possible, but that was something to figure out later. 

“You didn’t,” you reassured, “but I do have something you can do to make it up to me,”

L smirked, knowing you were teasing him. 

“I don’t understand. I didn’t offend, but you claim I need to make amends.”

“You don’t have to. It’s completely up to you.”

“What is it you would have me do?”

You didn’t answer with words, instead spreading your arms and then making a grabby motion towards him. Your smile was soft, gently pulling at your lips. 

“Yes,” he said sweetly, “I suppose we could both use a boost of oxytocin.”

He took slow steps towards you, and then all at once, his arms were around your waist. He pulled you into him, lifting you slightly off the ground, bringing your neck to his hung head. You felt goosebumps where his nose nuzzled into your skin and your heart grew wings, soaring. You held L just as tightly, indulging in his desperate touch and burying your nose into his silky hair. 

“I think we should revise our previous agreement about hugs.” He said after a moment, speaking into your throat. 

“What amendments would you like to make?”

“I think four hugs a day is fine, but I don’t think we should limit ourselves to that. We do need to make up for our lack of hugs in the past after all. Furthermore,” he lifted his head slowly, so as not to knock you in the nose. He would feel horrible for that. “I think we could add or substitute hugs for other forms of affection as well.”

You hummed, and he continued. 

“For instance, you have held my hand twice today, and both times, I felt a similar sort of comfort from the action. In fact, I’ve noticed any skin-to-skin contact with you eases me. Your hand on my face proved that. I tested this theory twice. Once, before our confessions, on the blanket. I placed my hand on the one you had placed on my shoulder. Then again, in your room, by simply touching your hand, tracing your palm instead of holding it. Both yielded similar results.”

You smiled at him fondly, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. As your nails skated across his scalp in lazy circles, his eyes fluttered a bit, his lids resting heavier. 

“So you would like to add hand-holding? I’m fine with that.”

Your sweet voice flooded his mind, and your hands liberated his composure. 

“Either you’re completely clueless to the effect you have on me,” he whispered, “Or you revel in it. And I’m not sure which is more terrifying.”

Your heart skipped a beat, which startled L for a moment, but then he realised it was because of an emotional response and not an attack from Kira. 

“I wonder the same about you.”

L was unfamiliar with the look in your eyes. Your pupils were dilated, and your irises sparkled in the light. He’s never been looked at like that before. Your face looked brighter, and your body language (while restricted in your current position in his arms) was relaxed; open. And suddenly, he was entranced by your lips. You were talking, and he studied the muscles as they moved, unable to focus on anything else. He felt the urge to kiss you, and this shocked him. He forced himself to pay attention to your words. 

“...besides you have all the power really. I know what I want, but if you don’t want me there’s nothing I can do about it. I could never kill you, but even if Kira forced my hand, I don’t know your name. And you’re the only one on the team who knows mine. Whether I like it or not, my heart is in your hands.”

“I would never hurt you,” he quickly defended, almost offended. 

“I know,” you said simply, “That’s why I trust your hands.”

Your gaze was unwavering, your stance absolute. The emotions L tried to contain began stirring restlessly. He no longer felt like he had a hold on them. A hurricane of feelings he couldn’t quite name tore through his chest, and he didn’t know what else to do but act. He surged forward, pressing his lips to yours. It was awkward and brief, as neither of you puckered your lips, just touched them together. He kept his watchful eyes wide as he did so, gauging your response. 

“Was that a kiss?” You finally asked once your silent shock was replaced by a highly amused smile. 

A small frown overtook L’s face. “I fear if you had to ask…” 

His sentence trailed off as he sat you back down on the ground. Then turned to walk to his closet. His was much larger than yours (which was ironic given he wore the same clothes for days straight), and you assumed he elected to change there when he closed the door. Now that he was out of sight, you allowed your excitement to show, jumping up and down and shaking your hands. 

He had kissed you, almost. It was obvious that he didn't have the experience, but your heart swelled at the thought that he wanted those experiences with you. And he did kiss you, he held you in his arms, for no other reason than to hold you close.

You tried your best to calm down, but your bright smile would fool no one. Instead, you tried to focus your attention elsewhere, calling Watari. He had given you his number (or a number) months ago. He told you it was because he saw that you cared for his son and that his son trusted you. He also confessed that he was rather fond of you too. He wanted to see you make it out of this investigation. 

He answered almost immediately. 

“Hello, Ms Ogawa,” He was always careful to use your alias, even if he knew you were alone. “I notice that you’re calling from within headquarters, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I was calling because I convinced Ryusaki to take some time off. I need you to plan a trip for him, no shorter than a week but something that’s easily extendable.”

The old man chuckled on the other end of the line. 

“You convinced him to take a break? I didn’t think anyone was capable; I wonder how you managed.” He seemed amused, implying he knew something through his old man wisdom. 

“I’m not entirely certain I did,” L emerged from the closet, looking nearly identical, just less soggy. You smiled at him as he made his way towards you. “But I’ll be very cross with him if he doesn’t. I think he knows that.”

The man you spoke of raised a single eyebrow as if to say, “Oh really?”

You made a similar face that left no room for argument. 

“I see,” Watari continued, “Shall I book this trip for one or two?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at the question. You didn’t know how to answer. You didn’t have to though as L decided then to grab the phone from your hand, pinching it awkwardly between his fingers. 

“Two,” he replied on your behalf. “We’ll also need a cover so that the others don’t know we’re together.”

“Understood. How soon would you like to leave?”

L returned the phone to you, trusting your decision. 

“We’ll leave tomorrow. We have plans for tonight, and I’d like to rest beforehand.”

“That’s very wise, Ms Ogawa. I’ll send over the itinerary soon.”

“Thank you, Watari.”

You hung up, placing your phone back in your pocket. When you looked up, L’s hand was extended, offering you a sweater. 

“If you intend to go out,” he explained, “You’ll need a sweater.”

You took it gratefully, and he turned his head again, giving you space to change. When you finished pulling the shirt over your head, he looked up and felt like he had swallowed his tongue. He never anticipated that seeing you in his clothes would affect him this way. He was truly smitten by you, and that was something he could no longer deny. 

“Ready?” You asked, disrupting his train of thought. 

He nodded, and you offered him your hand. A small smile spread across his face as he took it. He trusted your hands too, he realised. 

You reached the garage, selecting an inconspicuous sedan for your ventures. L moved to open the door when you stopped him. 

“Wait!” Your heart was in your throat, but you closed your eyes and forced out the words. “My favourite flowers are poppies. I think it’s cool how versatile they are. The moon absolutely amazes me. I understand how its gravitational pull affects our tides, but I still can’t wrap my mind around it. I also really like The Smiths, which raises conflicting feelings in me because I hate Morrison as a person, but man, if he isn’t great as crying into a microphone.”

You heard a soft chuckle and felt a hand reach out to hold your bicep. You took a deep breath, continuing with Ryusaki’s encouragement. 

“I prefer a good milkshake over any other dessert. I think time travel is probably the coolest superpower, but I think it’s too great a power that I wouldn’t trust myself with it. I like cats, but I’ve always wanted a pet raccoon. I don’t think I could get one, morally, but they just look so cute. If I had one, I would love that little guy so much. I would give him a really pretentious name; find a way to grant him Lordship.”

You opened your eyes slowly to see Ryusaki smiling, his thumb tracing circles on your arm. His eyes darted around your face, twinkling in city lights. His heart pounded harder with every word you uttered. Romance was never something he prioritised in his life, it wasn’t something he ever saw happening. Most people were put off by him, and it wasn’t often that he actually met people in his work. He could have lived the rest of his life hiding behind a computer screen, an imperceivable entity known only to one man. But now, he would give anything to stand in the sun with you while you look at him the way you do now. Affection and amnesty dripping from your gaze. 

“I’d like to try and kiss you again,” he said timidly. “If you’d show me how.”

Your smile split your face, feeling overjoyed by his words. Each move you made, he mirrored, hands on cheeks and bodies touching as he matched your steps forward. You jumped up on your tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Ryusaki’s eyes widened comically, and a hand rose to his lips as if he’d find your kiss there. But soon, his shock dissipated, replaced by a look of hunger. 

This time, he led, dropping a hand to your waist to hold you close and using his other to lift your chin. He moved in so slowly, and your body thrummed with the anticipation of contact. He stopped, his lips barely grazing yours, and you couldn’t hide your desperate tremble when you felt his soft breath against your own. He pressed his puckered lips against yours, and you took no time reciprocating. 

You brought a hand to the back of his neck, guiding him and pulling him closer. You felt like you were flying, your heart beating its feathered wings against your ribcage. You pulled your lips away just to bring them back, and you could feel his confidence growing as he tilted his head and his grip on your waist grew tighter. You began moving your lips against his, testing the waters. The rhythm was awkward at first, but he caught it soon enough. 

His chest was rising and falling quickly against you, and he brought his hands up to hold your face. You lost yourself in his touch, in the way he clung to you. You were being consumed and felt no dire to run from it. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you gasped. 

Your eyelids flutter as your brain caught up to what was happening around you. Ryusaki was no longer kissing you but carefully cataloguing the look on your face in his mind. He was reviewing everything he did and how you reacted to it. He had decided that he loved kissing you, and he wanted you to love it too. He wanted love to be something you associated with him, especially now that he knew his brain was making a similar connection. He knew it was probably too soon to say something like that, but he could wait. He would wait forever if he had to. He had the brightest star in the sky in his palms, and he didn’t intend to let this shooting star fall from his grasp. 

You were seeing sides of L that you never thought you would, ones you never thought to look for. He held you like a precious stone, something sacred. He looked at you like you were a wonder to behold, the eighth wonder of the world. It made it hard to breathe, suffocated by his silent adoration. 

“So, where are we going this evening?” He asked from high above. 

“I don’t know,” you said breathlessly, “but we have all of Tokyo, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

He loved this look on you. The joy in your eyes, the lack of stress in your muscles. Your glee was infectious, and he didn’t mind it. 

“As long as you’re by my side, I think anything would do.”

He testingly laid a kiss on your forehead as he said it, and you felt like you would melt to the floor in a pile of goo. You removed a hand from his neck, resting it on his, and were delighted when he instantly intertwined your fingers. 

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, Ryu-”

“Lawliet,” He interjected. You tilt your head, confused, and L does his best not to swoon as you rest your head in his hand on your cheek. “My name is Lawliet.”

You break out into a blinding grin, and Lawiet knows then that smile was the sunlight he was meant to bask in. Those were the rays that would light his darkest nights. The beams that would guide him through the intricate maze of life. 

He had found all he needed. A friend who listens to his grief and grievances. One who cares enough to try and understand his mind and soothe it at the same time. Not for her own convenience, but for his betterment; never pushing the boundary of discomfort but bringing thrill to the change. He found a fresh pair of eyes, for when his get dull and tired, to show him the artistry outside of the ghastly monstrosities he and the world bathed in. A person brave enough to show up, even on the bad days. The whole world could fit in his palms when he held you like this. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Lawliet.” you corrected.

L smiled, squeezing your hands three times. You returned the sentiment with a kiss to the hand you held in your own. 

Tag List: @barbecuetiddy, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @purple-amaranthe, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblrr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

I hope you enjoyed the read! Like I said, I don't think I'll do much writing for L, but I really enjoyed this. I hope even if you don't have as much love for this character as I do, you can still get something out of it :))

#rancid writes #death note #death note fanfiction #death note l #death note imagines #death note l lawliet #death note fluff #fluff #l lawliet #l death note #l x reader #l lawliet x reader #death note characters #friends to lovers

[gallifreyriver]

So, Kellogg's Boycott. Again. Haven't seen any posts about it here yet, so figured I'd make one.

In short: We're all tired of these big companies gouging their prices just because they can, and calling it 'inflation.' We're tired of companies announcing record profits while they cut bonuses/lay people off/force workers to run on skeleton crews/etc. We're tired of "Shrinkflation" And we're tired of a bunch of other shit too, but you get my point.

So, vote with your wallet.

On April 1st, stop buying Kellogg's, and keep that up until June 30th. Just three months- just one quarter of the fiscal year. Companies report earnings each quarter, and if their earnings drop it will reflect in these quarterly reports.

Why Kellogg's?

Because their CEO recently pulled a "Let them eat cake." TLDR; Kellogg's has raised prices by 28% across the board, bragged about record breaking profits, and then suggested that families struggling to afford groceries, because of aforementioned price gouging, just "eat cereal for dinner!"

And well, that message was not well received by anyone, as one could imagine. Pissed a lot of people off.

So yeah. The plan is to stop buying any Kellogg's products (below) for the entirety of the second quarter (April 1st-June 30th) and to collectively tell Kellogg to fuck off until they lower their prices. The goal isn't to "destroy the company" or cost anyone their jobs- but we will hit them where they will listen. Their profits.

If they don't listen, then we don't come back, and we start in on the next company, and keep going until they all get the message. There's always alternatives (more on that below) and we don't need them. If they refuse to drop their prices, then we just stick with the alternatives we found.

Three months is a minor inconvenience to teach a corporation a lesson, and we can do it.

So, take this month before April to find your alternatives. If you need help, I based a non-comprehensive list (below) off the image above. There's tons more just a google search away, and I bet others have made lists as well. There's also always the option to make your own. There's tons of recipes online showing how to make dupes of your favorite products.

Some things to note:

Don't go stocking up on your favorite Kellogg's products the last week of March and think you're not crossing the picket line. The point is to make Kellogg's feel the loss in profits, and stocking up on Cheez-its beforehand will defeat the purpose. I sincerely promise you can make it three months without buying Kellogg's. Again, three months is a minor inconvenience to teach a corporation a lesson, and we can do it.

That said, Safe Foods are acknowledged. If you or your child is neurodivergent and has issues with food (i.e: literally won't be won't be able to eat at all without their safe food) you get a pass. By all means feel free to try and find alternatives, but it's very unlikely that the few who can't boycott will cause it to fail. There should be plenty of the rest of us to pick up the slack.

Don't be a bystander- meaning don't go about this thinking "Oh, well surely there's enough people boycotting that it's fine if I just-" No. If we ever want things to change then we need to be strong enough to do even something as small as not buying something we like for three months. Furthermore, it's on those of us who can afford Kellogg's products to boycott Kellogg's. It's not the responsibility of those who already can't afford Eggos to boycott Eggos. Nothing will change if you go about just assuming everyone else already has it handled for you. Take a stand.

And importantly, Spread the word. This only works if we let as many people as possible know about it.

So reblog this post, or make your own post, or both. Even feel free to copy and paste this entire post off-platform if you need to. I've also seen some suggest making flyers, or even just writing on post-it notes, and sticking them to Kellogg's products in the store to spread the word off-line.

Just get the word out there. If we ever want these companies to stop gouging us for every cent we've earned, then we have to make a stand somewhere.

If we do nothing it will only ever get worse.

#kelloggs boycott 2024 #kelloggs #kelloggs boycott #corporate greed #boycott #eat the rich #ceo #let them eat cake #let them eat flakes #“Fuck you. Fools” day #fuck corporations #fuck capitalism #wendys #shrinkflation #price gouging #kelloggs ceo

[hunbun03]

hii can i request your regular jeff the killer headcanons? :) they don’t have to be smutty

Hello! thank ya for requesting! honestly, i should get aroundto posting all of my creeps head cannons but Jeffy boy is a good start! hope you enjoy!!

also please suggest any other peeps you want headcanons for!

<3 Wordcount: 605 words! so a quick read <3

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕁𝕖𝕗𝕗 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕂𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤!!!

warnings: will include smut head canons at the end so be warned. Other than that just Jeff being a loveable ass!

𝕊𝔽𝕎 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤:

okay, let's get this out of the way. he's an asshole.

an asshole who cares mainly about the people he loves.

STILL he's a douche sometimes.

he's not very showy when it comes to his more romantic side. Hell, he struggles to say I love you in front of others and definitely isn't going to admit how fond he is of you to anyone else, even to Liu.

but he is very observant-

He listens, taking notes on what you like. Oh? you mentioned you like a specific type of cookie- there are 10 boxes in the cupboards the following morning.

Oh? you like wearing his clothes, here take a hoodie. (he would be very nonchalant about the situation and if you prod any deeper he would deny deny deny. getting annoyed but still handing you the hoodie.)

he has his sweet moments but still, he's more of a cocky narcissist

handsy too (he will never leave your ass alone!)

my dude is 5'10 on a good day but will totally round it up to 6 foot. He likes being taller than you

if you are 5'10 n up. Well prepare for him to show off his strength instead.

"Give me your hand."

"What?"

"I can beat you in arm wrestling. Give me your hand!"

Of course, you let him win, cuz if not he would challenge you to a race. (like a goddamn middle schooler)

He is quite toned but still built lanky

this man can surprisingly cook decent enough and if you're lucky he will cook for you

ONLY SOMETIMES again with the whole not showing any romantic affection thing

he's a little nerd since before the whole randy, troy, keith thing. He was a quiet kid and ya know quiet kids tend to be nerds n stuff!

he's defintely a nerd when it comes to rock and metal bands.

he has a couple of band tees def.

he doesn't know how to drive- also he's a passenger princess.

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤:

minors get out right now!

so we all know this man is kinky in bed, of course!

one huge thing with him is def a knife kink. he absolutely gets off on the fear in your eyes when he presses one of his trusty knifes against your throat. how you tremble underneath him, feeds his massive ego.

he will definitely press it harder while he is fucking into you, he loves seeing you like this underneath him, also loves knowing that you would do this only for him.

he loves ruining you

he has a blood kink of course and will totally fuck you on your period.

his dick is 6 inches and pretty thick, slight curve to the left.

and he knows how to use it.

IF you're into it. Def let him carve his initials into you and watch him go absolutely feral.

he was already into marking with hickeys and bites, but this is like marriage to him i guess.

you're fully his now.

not only is he a passenger princess- his favorite position is reverse cowgirl.

he loves watching you ruin yourself on top of him and sometimes he will thrust up against your increasingly sloppier bounces.

his fingers roughly rubbing your clit

all the while whispering the filthiest things he can muster in your ear:

"cum all over my cock, doll"

"that's right, doll. go stupid on my cock, sweetheart. let me fuck your little brains out."

"you like my knife pressing into your thigh? makes your little clitty throb~"

his aftercare is surprisingly sweet, kissing all over you while he holds you close.

sometimes leaving marks as well, plays back to his whole ownership kink.

there it is! it is rough. i barely edited it so please enjoy. if you didn't like it umm- im sorry :(

#creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader smut #jeff the killer x reader smut #jeff the killer smut #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader

[devine-fem]

I wanted to talk about Damian’s sexuality.

That comes out weird, I know but this is prompted more so because I saw someone post about how he’s always been straight and op didn’t understand how people were so surprised when he started dating Nika. Then someone took a jab at Damijon + another person who said they didn’t understand the concept of Damian not understanding queerness.

I think that Damian doesn’t understand queerness but I’ll get into it toward the end of the post.

This will be put in two parts. One for Damian and how he feels about his sexuality and Damian’s internalized homophobia.

Let’s start with his canon love interest; Flatline. Flatline unlike his other attempted love interests was supposed to be taken seriously and didn’t suck. Compared to the others on this list, we should be rejoicing at Flatline.

Then this person used panels where it suggested that Damian had a sexual interest in a woman.

Almost every single person Damian has been interested in has been treated like a joke and not taken seriously. Some women are much too old for him and just awful picks.

Katana… why… stop please. Another example of them only doing it as a joke. This is so weird considering she’s much older.

Supergirl. Another joke. And much older.

Djinn… I don’t even know why…

Cassie Sandsmark… in a Earth, nice one Tom Taylor.

He has a couple more one off ones that weren’t taken seriously as well.

I know he got a cheek kiss from Emiko. He also dated Raven in an animation but I feel it was more a plot device. Also there are a lot of sexual jokes about Damian and I hate because he’s supposed to be ten by that time… there were some weird sexual impilcations when he teamed up with steph and I don’t know why writers do that instead of exploring the potential of their characters together and relationship…

Now let’s get into how Damian personally feels about his sexuality.

He jabs at romance and the concept of it a lot.

In Robin 2021 he also was very against romance but it was more as a way to sheild himself from his feelings. The only real confirmation that Damian is attracted to woman is Nika. So thank you, Nika. Anything other than that is just comphet to me at least.

This is also why he’s hc as Aro, Ace or Demi because he literally shows no interest in romance and the only times he does it feels like the writer has forgotten his personality.

TW: SEXUAL ASSAULT.

People don’t talk about that time Damian was kind of drugged/mind controlled and sexually assaulted… I’m not sure if people don’t perceive it that way but it seemed like SA to me.

She’s much older than him. He’s a ten year old. The way she’s speaking… her being naked. Damian telling her he doesn’t like it. Him not being in his right frame of mind… it reads this way to me.

Listen, I don’t understand how you can interpret Damian as any sexuality anyway when he’s so young. Only when he’s thirteen/fourteen can it truly be explored.

Although, Damian saying he won’t/can’t feel that way also proves my case.

He’s never really shown a whole bunch of interest in anyone.

—— End of trigger.

Now for the internalized homophobia.

So, the arguement is “he’s too smart not to know about queer culture…” What? What part of not knowing about queer culture makes you stupid?

Damian grew up in a very controlled environment where he was taught how to survive, taught how to lead and how to feel. What part of his schedule would fit in learning about queerness?

Internalized homophobia is in no way a bad thing and personally, as others do as well, see it as another way to queer code because its something a lot of queer people experience. This doesn’t negate the attraction to woman by the way but that doesn’t mean Damian can’t be interpreted as some other type of queer.

There’s also people who like to negate and ignore this part of Damian’s character but… why? These moments are part of important comics with his character. Damian was young and didn’t know much about well, anything. If you’re not personally queer yourself then you have no real incentive to learn about queerness.

There’s nothing really wrong with it. Even if Damian used gay as more of an insult. I doubt he knew what being queer was outside of “When boy likes boy.”

Also, he makes some comments often that come off… not the best.

I still really don’t think its bad and can be interesting if explored.

This also coupled with his culture shock, probably adds to his confusion on certain cultures.

I mean, he doesn’t know all that much. He’s not exactly mister super genius when it comes to real life things as well.

He doesn’t know what laffy taffy is… come on.

All this evidence doesn’t even matter anyway because it’s confirmed that when he does go to pride that knows literally nothing about it and has to be EXPLAINED by a friend about how it came about and how it works but people get so upset about that.

I don’t know what Damian’s sexuality could possibly be but I just don’t personally think he knows either and that has nothing to do with Damijon or any ship, but with canon.

I wanted to go more indepth to this but yeah, internalized homophobia Damian is very close to me.

#damian wayne #damian wayne meta #batfam #dc comics

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 17

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 17: now what?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Holy Hell toots, you kissed the big scary Radio Demon?" Angel came bursting through the healer's front door.

I casted wind to slam it shut behind him and made myself bigger with my wings extended. "How the hell do you know?"

"I overheard Alastor and Husker arguing," he answered, slightly taken aback at my display.

I turned away from the white and pink Demon and ran my claws along my head, the tips clicking against my horns. Vivian was at my side with a hand on my back. She, Vilcin, and Althea had just managed to coax the same revelation out of me before Angel came in.

"Is this a bad thing?" he asked.

"Yes it's a bad thing!" I spun to face him again. "I got manipulated! I fell for it. I fell for his stupid trick. And I knew what he was doing and fell for it anyways."

"How do you know it was a trick?" He held his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, maybe he was actually serious."

"Because I saw his memory." I sat in one of the soft chairs and dropped my head in my hands. "I saw him talking to Rosie about how our connection was getting stronger. And how if it was strong enough then I could control my magic and he could feed off it."

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence. I then stood up and paced in a circle at wicked speed. "I'm so angry! At him and at myself." I let out a struggled noise and pulled at my hair. "I thought I was getting better!"

"Was that the only memory you saw?" Althea asked. My trio of friends stood near each other still, unsure of how to help me. "Perhaps that was a memory that happened awhile back. Maybe he has had a change of heart since then."

"He's the fucking Radio Demon. He's not capable of loving anyone." I knew I spoke lies as soon as it had come out. I went silent and fell into the chair again. He loved his mother and sister dearly. Maybe after so many years of living without them, he had forgotten how to love someone.

"Hey." Althea knelt beside me, a gentle hand on my leg. Her green hair was a stark contrast with the dark flooring; it naturally drew my eyes to her. "Maybe anyone can learn. Even him."

"You learned how to love Reagan," Vivian chipped in. Her lamb ears swayed as she moved to kneel on the other side of me. "You were a brutal ring fighter. But now you love and dote on all the children."

"Maybe you should look further in his memories," Althea suggested, "see if there's any other conversations. Feel what he's feeling. It's the least he can let you do."

"I don't know."

There was a long moment of silence.

"So what'd it feel like?" Angel asked.

****

"This woman doesn't know how to stay off my nerves." Alastor rubbed his aching forehead. After my disappearance into the haven, he paid Rosie another visit.

"Love isn't trifling," she answered. "I must say though, I'm not sure why she's different than your other female acquaintances. You've never not hit it off with a lady before."

"She's not your typical woman, I suppose." He leaned his chin on the back of his hand and stared off at the window. "Her attitude has always been a problem. Perhaps it comes from her experience."

"She was a caged animal for most of her life," Rosie agreed, taking a sip of the hot tea she made. Alastor had yet to touch his.

"I have done what I can to show I enjoy her company. Why does she not believe me?"

"You two didn't have the greatest of relationships at first," she pointed out, "Not to mention everything she had to deal with when it came to mind magic and her curse."

"Yet our relationship has changed significantly in the past year. It's...annoying," he lifted a single claw from the armchair, "that she rejected my advance when she herself wasn't showing signs of distaste." He paused, eyes flickering up to Rosie's briefly before looking back at the window. "Perhaps my performance was lacking."

Rosie let out a laugh, causing him to pin his ears back in a growl. "Oh goodness, Alastor, I don't think that's the case. If it makes you feel any better, it doesn't seem like she has much experience in that field either."

It did make him feel slightly better. "I'm unsure how to move forward from here."

"She likes honesty." Rosie calmed her laughing and, putting her cup down, walked over to Alastor's chair. "Perhaps it's time you let her into that green mind of yours," she gently poked the side of his head and he leaned away. "Let her see how you truly feel."

He sank further into the chair. "This is stupid."

"This is love, darling."

"Surely this isn't how things typically go."

"You two aren't very typical, nor is your situation."

He tapped his claws. "Blast this woman," he mumbled.

****

By the time my cravings came back, I wasn't ready to deal with Alastor just yet. I had spent two days in Althea's healer hut just to avoid him. On the second day the cravings hit hard and I was curled in a ball for most of the day. Our deal had ensured that I wouldn't be able to live without his blood, without him. I had been tricked again.

Veins squeezing painfully tight, I trudged up the hill to the house. I felt his presence long before I touched the door and slammed it shut.

"Alastor!" I yelled for him. He manifested in the living room a moment later.

"You called." He wore his usual wicked smile.

"I'm still angry at you but the cravings came back," I stated, immediately getting down to business. I had a hand on my chest, nails digging painfully into my skin.

"I understand, darling." He leaned his cane against the fireplace and rolled up his jacket sleeve and the one underneath it. How many layers did he need? "Do accept my apology on the matter."

"Not yet." I buried the fear that was threatening to choke me as I crossed the room.

"I understand." He nodded, offering his exposed arm. He was being uncharacteristically cooperative, but maybe he was trying to make amends. My mouth began to water at the prospect of his sweet blood.

I slowly grabbed his wrist and summoned all the anger I could to bite down harshly. He let out a grunt as my teeth pierced his skin. His black blood soothed the itching in my throat and my veins slowly stopped seizing. My anger died as my body relaxed.

He grabbed my opposite shoulder and pulled so my back was against his chest. My teeth were still in his skin as he pressed that arm harder into my mouth, effectively pinning my head against him. His other arm was around my torso so my claws couldn't reach up to do any damage. I tried yelling but my jaw remained locked in place.

"Now that you're silent, it is my turn to speak." His voice was light but firm. "I understand you are angry with me because you believe I am manipulating you. To a degree, you were correct." I bit down harder and it caused him to wince. "But I understand now that I was merely fooling myself. I greatly enjoyed dancing with you that night. I find myself wanting to be around you all the time. And it infuriates me that Lucifer has permission to look through your mind while I am not allowed to do more than touch you. Even that one is debatable."

Without warning, his presence wrapped around mine and pulled me in his mind. Memories popped up in front of me. Memories of him watching me, close or from afar. I could see myself watching the children on the shore, tending to a crying child, talking with my friends, and reading by the fire after our afternoon sessions.

He also showed his actions that I never saw. Actions like soothing a nightmare after the soul shadow incident or attempting to touch my shoulder or back, but retracting it a second later. I saw the night we danced and felt a strange mix of nervousness and comfort. He looked briefly at my lips right before we kissed.

I blinked back to the dim living room. I had long stopped drinking his blood and now spit and blood were dripping off my chin.

"I am quite infatuated by you. I have grown accustomed to your presence, and dare I say I am not sure how to live comfortably without it. You send a thrill up my spine." He used magic to send warmth up my back as a visual. "I ask that you believe me when I say I want to be closer with you."

The confession left me dumbfounded. Everything was still and the only sound came from my breath on his skin. I could feel his chest rise and fall on the backside of my head. Did he always breathe that fast?

Eventually, I tugged my arm out and he finally released me. I took my teeth out of his skin and turned to face him. He grimaced at the sight of his spit covered arm and used magic to clean it up. I did the same with my chin.

"I don't know how to feel," I admitted, his ears quirked back. "I just...I don't..." I rubbed my arm and watched one of my foot claws scratch the carpet. Poor Niffty was always fixing the holes I was putting in it.

He bowed low like the night we danced. "Then I will allow you the time and space to think." His shadow melted with him and he slipped back up to his room. The room felt colder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Nooooo, but I want him to be closer not further away

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #soulmate au #soulmates #hazbin hotel #reqs open

[sgiandubh]

From California to the New York island... - The 2023 edition

I will probably quickly learn not to post exceedingly allusive things when I am running out of time and yet have to jot down the lightbulb moment, lest it's gone forever.

This morning, I mentioned in my post some images that were still freshly baked and put out for consumption on the two main Mordorian news outlets. When people started to ask in droves during my coffee & lunch breaks, I knew I had to go further, despite my deep, jaded reluctance to revisit my own musings. So now, with laundry on the way (fi-nal-ly!) and a hot cocoa by my side, let's hit the road.

This time, we're going to do it with pictures. It's easier, including for the people from Pyongyang, ahem, Mordor. And the dang simplistic context allows for it: what is there to theorize when the strings are so conspicuous?

I was writing, this morning:

This is the image the Mordorian Pravdas didn't show you:

La Niña Vaquera, feeling maybe a bit shot to the curb, when clearly the whole party vibe is where (Red Dress?) Melanie, the MPC boys band and the Blonde Brigade are. Possibly in a chit-chat with somebody who is not S., classy red plastic cup in hand. I had to re-watch the snippet at least six times in a row to find her (a very taxing job, but hey, it's for the cause). Maybe talking to the somebody whose +1 she plausibly was?

FYI, S never looked at her, never touched her, never engaged with her. Not even when she took her artillery sightseeing, while they were cheering with rapture, shot glasses in hand:

Red arrow is BBC, aka La Niña Vaquera. S is offscreen, to the left, looking at who I think is Duncan Millership (blue arrow), who also was with S at the Sasnak City event, and introduced by him as his new manager. @rosfrank confirmed this morning, in one of the comment threads:

So, rather inconclusive, eh?

With KE/Cucumber Yoga Chick out of the building with a bang, we had to somehow be led further on the Breadcrumb Trail, so serviceable *urv obliged and posted the infamous Shutters Pic I also mentioned and described. If you want to see it, park your drones in her backyard: I am not going to post it, because she arrowed it and the least thing I want is to have Ye Auld Wraith (or anyone, for that matter) on my back stat.

To make it clear: would it be for the first time in the history of mankind when a groupie checks in at the same hotel? But hey, let's be pessimistic for once and suppose she's the new Calendar Girl (based on what, I wonder). She went there, took the pic, leaked it and au revoir, les enfants. Fair's fair, for the Banana Boat Day-oh experience.

And then, we have the 'Fan Pic' who bamboozled the tired, weary masses, courtesy of the other Mordorian, CNN-style, news outlet. This I can post: I stole it from @bat-cat-reader and she never minds.

Conveniently, the woman who posted this very clear latergram does not comment. You bet she doesn't. So, I draw some arrows: let's see where they take us.

The hair is not right, as compared to Banana Boat Day-oh:

What do we say? One inch? One inch and a half longer? Three days later? I should pray for the same to happen to my waistline, but the other way round, then.

And then, also: where is...

Yeah: where's the scar, Sir?

Do you see it? I almost broke my nose and I haven't.

Irrespective of what Mordorian media reported, that is not an MPC rucksack, in the picture.

This is an MPC black rucksack:

Featuring this very peculiar fastening system:

The bag in the picture above has a different one and no visible beige reinforcements:

Maybe the MPC bag line did not exist on the surface of this planet when the pic was taken? Maybe he used a different bag (but we know he travels with those, nowadays) ? At any rate, that is not an MPC one.

And because the third time is always a charm, the Water Bottle. Also suggested (less insistently, though) as belonging to the MPC line.

This is an MPC Peaker water bottle:

With this type of bore:

The one in the picture is, again, different, IMHO, even if the image is very blurry:

I wanted to round this up with a bang and identify the damn logo, because I think it might provide very useful clues. I tried, damn I did, but was unsuccessful. I leave this to better sleuths than I.

Until further evidence, I stand on a very reserved ground concerning BBC. There is still absolutely nothing to write home about. But sure, go ahead and make up your own mind. By all means and I mean it. And sorry for the length of it, of course.

[edited for the fourth arrow]

Fuck, I forgot The Vest.

Weather forecast for yesterday, in Santa Monica, Ca.:

Why the vest on the same man who wrote in Waypoints:

Flying somewhere, perhaps?

[lizzieislife94x]

Road Trip (e.o)

Lizzie x G!P reader

If you want any requests just message me

Lizzies POV:

"Let's go hoooooe" I beep my horn over and over waiting for my bestfriend y/n she takes so fucking long this bitch she literally said I'm ready come pick me up and she's not ready I love her but sometimes I wanna strangle her "ugh finally I've been waiting 10 minutes" I huff turning to her as she laughs "calm your panties lizzies let's get this show on the road I'm so excited" she leans over to hug me as I pretend I don't want her too she's so fucking beautiful I love to spend as much time with her as possible so 16 hours on the road alone in the car is perfect, she's had my heart for the last 5 years I've never had the courage to do anything about I don't wanna ruin our friendship I love her to much but I can't help but constantly check her out "ok I forgive you loser let's go, I'll drive the first few hours then we can find somewhere to chill and sleep then you take the next few hours tomorrow and so on" I explain we could easily do the 16 hours in one go but this trip is about us spending a few days together because we don't get to see each other often "that sounds perfect lizzie" she smiles sweetly god her smile, we start our drive talking and enjoying each other company laughing like mad men

 Y/ns POV:

"No way your boss said that??" She asks in complete shock I can't help but giggle "yeah he did can you believe he thought I wanted to sleep with him I've worked there for 3 years and the idiot hasn't realised I'm into women" I say smirking at lizzie "yeah no offence y/n all anyone has to do is spent 20 minutes with you to know your a lady lover" she says in a flirty tone I laugh and sigh leaning my head back against the head rest, yes lizzie I'm completely for the ladies but I only want you, I think as I would never tell her that I don't want to lose her and if I let my stupid feelings get in the way I'd lose her she'd never speak to me again "hey give me your phone I wanna put music on" I say as I rest my hand on hers andshe smiles "its right there y/n" she says pointing down to where the drinks sit, I grab her phone and unlock it "awh we are so fucking cute" I say referring to the photo of us as her lockscreen and I think she's blushing "we still have 2 hours to go wanna stop and get some food and blankets and pillows" she smiles at me "yessssss babes sounds like a plan to me" I jump excitedly in my seat and she giggles at my antics we pull in to Mcdonalds and get some food after half an hour we walk over to target to get blankets and pillows "ohhh lizzie we should get snacks for watching Netflix" I suggest "that's actually a great idea" we grab lots of snacks and drinks and I grab a box of tissues incase lizzie needs to pee "let's go find the perfect spot to set up by the time we get there the sun should just be setting " I say in a calm tone "mmh I love the sunset its so beautiful " lizzie says as I pack the stuff into the car

we spend the remaining 2 hours in a comfortable silence occasionally chatting about stuff that we could watch, we've settled for big momma and big momma 2 she always gets her way but fuck she's so precious I could never say no to her, we find the perfect spot and park up with a perfect view of the sunset I grab her hand as we sit and watch it until it disappears "let's get the car all cosy and we can set up the movie" I whisper as I get out and open the back doors and put the back seats down and fix a few blankets down so we're comfortable I then fix the pillows and grab a few blankets to cover us "everything's ready ma'am just need your laptop" I say smiling as lizzie gets into the back smiling "this is beautiful y/n" I blush and look down "I'm going to get stripped I normally sleep naked but obvs I'm not over the next few days so is it OK if I wear my boxers and sports bra?" I question shyly and she giggles "of course that's fine y/n same here as long as you don't mind me in my bra and panties" I gulp and blush at the thought "no uh thats fine" I whisper nervously and strip my clothes off leaving me in my boxers and sports bra I climb into the back and get under the covers after a few minutes lizzie joins me as I set the laptop up and play the movie.

Lizzies POV:

Fuck I'm trying to focus on the movie but I can't y/n is half naked laying right against me thank god she fell asleep because I'm panicking here "mmh there fuck.." wait a minute is she moaning Holy fucking shit I notice the blanket poking up and instantly lift it to look under fuck she has a hard on yep she was definitely moaning "fuck lizzie..take it ju..st like that" I instantly freeze was she moaning my name fuck I feel the wetness instantly pooling in my panties "lizzie..uhhh god yy..es" the sound of her moaning my name alone is enough to make me cum fuck, I need to wake her up "hey y/n wake up babe y/n" I whisper shaking her as she wakes up and opens her eyes wide as she sees me "oh hey lizzie is everything ok what time is it " god  even her saying my name now I'm only gonna think of her moaning it 

Y/ns POV:

I woke up and instantly knew I had a hard on shit I hope she doesn't see it I had a sex dream about lizzie it's nothing new but I freaked out inside when she woke me up because I've never had a sex dream about her while she's laying beside me I move a little and try to hide my dick "where you dreaming about me" I freeze as the words leave her mouth how does she know "you where moaning alot and you moaned my name" she says as if she read my mind "I'm so sorry liz I had no control over my dream please don't hate me" she giggles and pulls the blankets off and climbs ontop of me oh god what is happening "oh shut up and do something about it" I smirk and unclip her bra letting her perfect tits fall out I automatically latch my mouth around her nipple as she grinds into my raging hard on "fuck lizzie that feels amazing" i moan against her nipple as she continues "lizzie you are fucking soaked I groan" she blushes and looks into my eyes "how do you know y/n" I smirk and bite my lip "your pussy is that wet its soaked my boxers I can feel it on my cock " i tease kissing her neck "ugggh just fuck me y/n I've waited to long for this" she moans as I flip us and take my boxers off and slide her panties off fuck the sight of her soaked core is making me harder "mmh fuck you look fucking amazing "I moan as I run my fingers through her wet folds earning a moan for my best friend "put it in y/n fuck me" I moan at her assertion and do as I'm told I line my cock up to her entrance and slide in slowly "fuckkk lizzie you feel so fucking good" I moan pushing my entire length inside the moaning blonde under me "yessss fuck y/n youre so big sh..it" I gave her a minute to adjust before I start thrusting my hips slowly making sure to hit the right spots as I thrust, fuck I never knew my best friend sounded so fucking sexy moaning my name "yes yes yes y/n right...there fuck dont fucking stooop" she screams as I pick up my pace fucking her harder and faster "I'm cummmmming oh holy fucking shit im cumming" she screams out like a pornstar I feel her pussy walls squeeze my cock as I hold back my orgasm and she cums all over my cock "good girl" I moan slowling my thrusts letting her ride out her orgasm "fuck y/n you feel amazing inside me" she pants out her hands gripping my biceps as she tries to steady her breathing, I keep my dick inside her and move her legs over my shoulder "do you have one more lizzie" I moan thrusting slowly leaning down to place a gently kiss on on her lips "mmmh yes definitely baby" she moans "fuck me fuck me please" I start snapping my hips hard and fast as the car shakes like crazy and my best friend screams under me fuck her pussy feels amazing I continue thrusting feeling the orgasm fast approaching "fuck lizzie cum for me I want you to cum for me before I fill your tight little cunt with my seed " I pant out staring into my best friends eyes and all I see is lust and desire "fuck fuck I'm cumming daddyyy" she screams arching her back as I continue to slam my cock deep inside her After one final thrust I start shooting my load deep inside my best friend and it feels amazing I've wanted this for the longest time, I lay beside her panting as I grab her hand "that was amazing lizzie are you on the pill?" I moan looking at her as she turns to me "yes it was amazing no one has ever made me cum that hard and nope im not" she smirks running her finger down my nose biting her lip. 

Well I guess there's a chance I just impregnated my best fried the thought has me biting my lip this woman is something else and god i love her.

AN: just to keep the book up to date if you like it let me know if you want a request message me I do them all right away babes word Count is 1.8k

#elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #fanfic #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu #oneshot #smut #wattpad #lizzieislife94x #wandavision #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #mommy wanda #wanda x you #wanda maximov #wanda maximommy #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda smut

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as their natal charts: vernon

sun in aquarius, moon in scorpio

this man is a deep thinker, who does not like to be under someone's control; creative and strong, he's genuinely nice but his reserved and a bit detached nature can make him look bad, he is someone who is sincerely happy with who he is and doesn't care what others think

'hansollie,' you whine in a baby voice, hiding your face on his chest.

'hm? what is it?' he asks, immediately wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. 'what happened?'

'everyone is staring,' you mumble quietly, too shy to look up. when he suggested to dance in the park and film it, you agreed because you liked this idea and because it's impossible to say no to his sparkling eyes. but at that time park was blisfully empty unlike now, when it's full of people, who are all very interested in you two.

'so what?' vernon whispers into your ear, tightening his grip. 'let them, sunshine. they are admiring, not judging, i promise.'

too scared to take a peek from his shoulder, you didn't say anything on this, letting hansol sway you two to the rhythm of the song. it's easy to forget about the rest of the world in his arms, hansol has this uncanny ability of making you feel invincible. he doesn't care what other people think of him and when you're together, this great ability transfers to you too. his hands caress your back softly and he plants small kiss on your cheek, whispering: 'if you are uncomfortable, love, then we can stop. just say a word.'

this makes you smile. hansol may not care about other people, but you, your thoughts, your feelings are his utmost priority. you finally look up from his chest, meeting his worried eyes dead on. there's deep etched frown between his eyebrows and you reach out to smooth it out, smiling at him. 'song is ending, let's finish it and then go home? besides,' you take a quick look at the crowd, 'everyone is looking at us like we're the cutest couple they've ever seen. we can't spoil their show.'

hansol laughs, leaning in to peck your lips chastely. 'well, to be honest, we are the cutest couple anyone has ever seen.' he presses your foreheads together, looking at you adoringly. 'all the cuteness is thanks to you, by the way.'

'you are right,' you giggle, forgetting about the crowd and anything else. who cares what they think and who needs them at all, when hansol is next to you, holding you close and looking at you like you are the reason sun is up?

this man contradicts himself: he needs to be loved and be 100% independent at the same time, he can get jealous but won't accept any doubt towards him. he will never be too emotional, which doesn't mean his love is fake; he's loyal and commited, but he needs space and his partner should understand that. he's very much 'best friends turned lovers' type, this arc fits him the most.

'give me some time, okay?' hansol asks, holding your hands in his.

it's not the first time he asks for this after a fight, but every single he does, you feel doubt creep into you - what if he won't come back? you quickly shake this thought off though, because you know him better than that. his need for space is understandable and you nod, trying to hide your sadness. 'of course. we are.. good, right?'

his lips are on yours in the next second and you kiss him back, savoring this moment of closeness. 'we are good,' he assures you sincerely. 'i just need some time away to think it over, okay?' at your nod, he leans in, kissing you once more. 'look at me, love. i'm not leaving, okay? i'd never do that to you.'

'i know,' you whisper, looking at him. you not doubting him is so, so important for him and you know it; you nod again, trying to smile. 'i trust you. take all the time you need.'

beautiful smile blooms on his face at this and he kisses both of your hands. 'i am yours,' he says seriously, looking in your eyes. 'just let me think it over, i don't want this kind of fight to ever happen again.'

he means it, you know he does. 'me too. i'm sorry.'

'i'm sorry too,' he holds you close. 'we'll work on this one, yeah?'

you look at the way his thumb gently draws circles on your wrist and nod. his intention to learn and get better will never cease to amaze you. 'yeah. we'll work on this one.'

a/n: on the list of 'mtl will analyze the fight and come back to talk it out' out of seventeen members, hansol is numero uno :') what do you guys think? - nini

my masterlist is here

tagging @prpldahy

#seventeen imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen vernon #vernon chwe #vernon fanfic #hansol imagine #hansol fanfic #seventeen hansol #choi hansol #hansol x reader #svt vernon #svt hansol #i just love him so much because his placements are so unique like #he IS sincerely happy with who he is #i am so jealous but also so happy for him

[kitashousewife]

you & me

an: i feel like gojo needs a break every now and then!! the chance to relax and i feel like he should get spoiled too!!!

pairings: gojo x fem!reader

warnings: angst from gojo, stress, anxiety, sorcerer au but everyone is happy and alive, alcohol mention and consumption, food mention, suggestive content

-

gojo's head hangs over the back of his desk chair as he lets out a long, exhaustion-filled sigh. he sways back and forth slightly, eyes shut, trying to relax for a few minutes. if he's not teaching, he's somewhere around the world on a mission. if he's not doing either of those, he's lying awake in bed with a drumming heart and a hyperactive mind.

with you by his side, of course.

being the strongest has its perks, for sure. challenges that help him grow and improve, opportunities to see the world, as well as more than enough financial stability. it's quite nice to be at the top.

it's pretty lonely as well.

the demand of it all has begun to take a toll on gojo, both mentally and physically. his bones ache, and his muscles strain more than they have before. just this morning during his training with the second years, he allowed himself to get pinned rather quickly by maki in 30 seconds. his fingers shake no matter how much he eats or drinks. even in his late twenties, gojo feels almost triple that.

the mental effects are a whole other story. at this point, he hasn't slept in almost four days, not that he hasn't tried. gojo's usually sharp mind is exhausted during fights, hyper-focused, and completely used up by the end of the day. and, for the first time in his life, he feels anxious. constantly looking behind himself, checking the school cameras, and even begging to install stricter security on your shared home than you already have.

he exhales, opening his eyes. he just wants a vacation.

"i'm really sorry, but nobody else is available," principal yaga sympathizes over the phone. the end of your pen taps on your notebook while you think.

"nobody from kyoto? what about a team? i know it's important, but satoru is tired and-"

"i know he is," yaga agrees. "but i told you, i can't find anyone else. i'm afraid that this mission needs someone of gojo's caliber. unless a miracle happens, i can't guarantee any time off. i'm sorry, i really am."

you rub your eyes, nodding as you cross off yet another failed idea.

"no worries. thank you for trying though."

you hang up and groan. this is the fifth idea that you've come up with today. valentine's is only a couple away, and you want to plan something special for your boyfriend. he's clearly overworked, yet he never fails to spoil you. it's your turn.

if something could work, of course.

you think for a few more minutes before giving up. you rise from your spot at the kitchen table, shuffling towards the fridge. at least you could make some dinner before he gets home.

"hey sweetheart," gojo's very tired frame comes through the garage door.

dinner will have to wait.

"hi! i'm so happy to see you." you give him a large hug, and notice that he leans into you a bit more than normal. he's already out of his blindfold and uniform jacket, both thrown on the floor near his shoes.

"i'm happier to see you. how about we order pizza or something? don't worry about cooking anything tonight."

you smile. even with his fatigue, he just wants to make you happy.

"whatever you want, 'toru."

the evening feels short. after eating dinner together and watching a couple episodes of a show that neither of you really notices, gojo heads to take a shower. you hope to figure out more of the valentine's festivities before he comes out.

you think about surprising him at work. going there early, setting up some decorations and his favorite treats all nice before he arrives. it's a great plan, except he would notice you were gone.

you consider seeing a movie, maybe even the nice theater that opened up. much to your dismay, every show time is sold out.

you're about to try another theater when your phone rings.

"i'm so sorry for calling this late. do you have a few minutes?" it's yaga again. he only calls you if he can't get ahold of gojo himself. your stomach turns.

"don't apologize. and sure, is everything okay?"

he chuckles. "actually, yes. turns out the kyoto branch wants to handle it. they have a team that i'm fairly confident will be able to get the job done, and then some."

your turning changes to butterflies. "what are you saying?"

the smile in your voice must be evident, as he laughs again.

"i'm saying that you're clear. gojo won't have any missions for at least a couple weeks, so he's all yours."

you jump up and down a couple times. "oh, my gosh. thank you, so much. i can't thank you enough."

"don't mention it. he deserves it."

you end the call, running over to your laptop. you might be able to pull this off.

"what's got you so excited?"

"satoru!"

he grins from behind you. he knows how much you hate when he sneaks up on you.

"really though, everything okay?"

"yeah. everything is perfect."

you shuffle by him towards your shared bedroom. he raises an eyebrow. his lithe frame leans against the wall while you grab pajamas.

"you're hiding something."

"six-eyes tell you that?"

he snorts. "no, i just know you. tell me, pretty girl. what's going on?"

"you'll find out in a couple days!" you peck him on the lips and get into bed. he joins you with a shake of his head. for the first time in a while, gojo gets a few hours of sleep.

if someone was to win the world's most impatient award, it would be gojo satoru. you're happy that today is the day to finally spoil your boyfriend, but a large part of you is happy to be done with his prying.

you complete the finishing touches on your look, finalizing the plan in your head. thanks to some friends, you were able to get a table at one of the nicest restaurants in tokyo. five courses, dessert, everything is perfect. you will finish the night in a hotel, one that overlooks the city and is luxurious in every sense of the word.

"how do i look?"

you look at your reflection and see your boyfriend staring back at you. black glasses rest on the tip of his nose, and white hair falls around his face. he's in a simple black suit, and shiny dress shoes, complete with a pricey-looking watch.

"you look amazing, as usual. are you ready?"

a low whistle sneaks through his lips as you walk by him. blue eyes drag up your figure and gojo can't help himself. he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you into his chest with a coy smile.

"i'm sure we could spare a few minutes," he smiles wide now, keeping one hand on your waist as the other sneaks up to the zipper of your dress. you put a hand on his chest to push him back, and he pouts.

"we do not, 'toru. we need to go or you'll ruin the surprise. you sure you want that?"

he trails behind you with a whine. "i'm okay with the idea of it," he jokes, raising his eyebrows at you, but you shake your head.

"i'm serious, it's time to go!"

gojo's fingers pull at the drivers seat, but you wave him off quickly.

"what! at least let me drive," he pouts once again, and you giggle.

"you don't even know where you're going! it's not a far drive anyway, get in please!"

he gives up, finally letting you spoil him. he would never admit it, but he feels terrible he didn't plan something for valentine's day first. every year he's done something elaborate. trips, jewelry, booking entire restaurants, renting out entire beaches, anything flashy and loud to scream to the world that you're his. he can't help but feel a little down, though. gojo is nothing if not showy, especially when it comes to you.

the drive is relatively short. traffic in the city gives the two of you time to catch up. gojo shares about his students, marveling at their rapid growth and mastery of their own techniques. the way he lights up when sharing stories of their success warms your heart.

this is the gojo that you know. the man who would do anything for those he loves. the man who would drop everything he's doing to go do something absolutely mundane with you. the man who sacrifices everything to make sure everyone important to him is safe.

"we're here," you announce quietly, voice trailing off with the nerves. you pull the car up to the valet, and gojo is quick to leap out of the car as soon as you park. he opens the door for you with a grin, helping you out and sliding his arm around your waist.

"wow baby," he eyes the restaurant. he's never told you, but he's spent about six months on the waitlist for this place. 'how'd you score this?"

"i have my ways," you smirk. if he's impressed now, you can't wait for him to see what's in store.

gojo watches as you whisper with the hostess, quirking a brow as they scurry back quickly. he's even more surprised when what looks like the owner of the restaurant gives you a hug. soon, you motion him over with a big smile. he points at himself, mouthing a cheeky me? to which you roll your eyes.

gojo follows you, holding your hand as the two of you are led throughout the entire restaurant. dozens of couples dine together, laughing and carrying on with looks of love and adoration. it only makes gojo more excited, especially since the two of you are going further and further away from the crowd.

"here we are," your friend motions towards a small round table, adorned with champagne flutes, plates, and a bottle ready on ice. gojo pulls your chair out for you, kissing your cheek before sitting down. what's even better, is that this table is the only one in the room. "the first course should be out in about fifteen minutes or so. until then, enjoy yourselves."

you nod to your friend as they exit, before turning to your lover.

"oh my god baby," gojo looks around the room, eyes sparkling from the light of the candles that surround you. "what, i mean, how?"

your cheeks heat up, and he takes your hand in his.

"i know how busy you've been, how hard you're working, and i wanted to make this special. besides, you're always doing something for others, especially me," you squeeze his hand. "it's time i take care of you for once."

maybe it's the lighting, the way that you look tonight, or the overwhelming feeling of being taken cared of and loved, but gojo can't help but feel emotional. he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and he laughs to himself.

"i love you. so much. i don't deserve you."

you shake your head at that.

"you deserve everything good, satoru. i mean that, with my whole heart."

he kisses your knuckles. "i love you more, my perfect girl."

he stands up and checks his watch before walking towards you. he knees to your height, kissing you softly on the lips. your lips move with his, gasping when his hand smooths over your thigh and tongue swipes at your lips.

"we have about ten minutes left," he breathes on your lips and your breathing quickens. his other hand moves up your calf, under your dress before sliding up your thigh.

"how about i show you just how much i love you, my angel?"

#heidslovesickevent #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader imagine #gojo satoru #satoru gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x female reader

[council-of-beetroot]

pls make a longer post omg

Tolys and his struggles with body Image and Appearance

Alright anon you and a few others wanted me to elaborate so I will!

So in a previous post I said this

"I genuinely think Tolys has issues body / appearance wise and it's probably because of Ivan"

So you know how in quite a few strips Tolys is weirdly overly embarrassed by things Feliks does like how he dresses or when he suggests Tolys try a certain hairstyle?

It's odd to me because Tolys has been friends with Feliks for a very long time, he should hypothetically be used to Feliks' interests and unusual hobbies. Tolys is seemingly used to everything else weird that Feliks does so why does this bother him so much?

Now let's take a look at this panel from 2007 where we have the stripping panel

To which Tolys responds with this before it moves on to the next person.

Now we're circling back to Ivan. This leads me to believe Ivan used appearance as a quite effective humiliation tactic. Additionally it gives Ivan a ton of control.

Now why is this a good tactic? Well for one it gets to Liet, not only is he easily embarrassed it makes him overthink. To him, it's one thing to get beaten to the point of unconsciousness and it's another to be forced into a maid dress. It's over the top and deliberate, it ends up with Tolys "thinking how did I get myself into this situation it's ridiculous, I am a warrior, why is this getting to me?"

And Ivan knows this

He knows that he can make it so Tolys is so in his own head questioning things that his mindset quickly becomes just Tolys and Ivan.

Now here's where it comes back to Tolys having residual issues with his appearance/ or femininity.

It's simple Ivan knows this: Refer to him as your ex, your wife, call him your toy, call him cute and pretty and compliment his long hair. Eliminate the space between you and him, rub his shoulders, come up to him from behind. Show him off to others and tell him how adorable it is to see him blushing from the attention. Strip him of his privacy, his self autonomy, and safety. Control him so it's only you he can turn to whether you give him comfort or pain.

Now if you've ever experienced that you know in particular how much it can mess with your head when things like compliments are used to hurt you or when someone is cruel one moment and nice the next. And it's even more of a mindfuck when they confide in you let, their guard down, and perhaps you do too.

Hence why I am lead to believe Tolys still is struggling with this. Any comment of his appearance makes the alarms in his head go off. A compliment on a date makes start searching for the nearest escape route. Feliks' comfortability with his feminine aspects and wanting Tolys to join in reminds him of Ivan dressing him up in bows and dresses and telling him he's pretty. Feminine things were used to humiliate him. Appearance was used to humiliate him. It's genuinely triggering for him even though with Feliks, he's just being him and wants to include Liet. For Tolys, it reminds him of being dolled up and paraded as Ivan's cute secretary. Even a genuine compliment brings him back to a time where he couldn't say no and he felt powerless, because it was weaponized against him.

Hopefully I worded this right and let me know if i should add any warnings in the tags

Totally unrelated but in searching for images I found a bunch of HWS lithuania tiktoks and if I didn't refuse to ever download tiktok I'd go watch them.

(I do want to say people often use this especially back in the day wondering why he's portrayed as so weak especially when he's shown to have defeated Prussia. Here's the thing that's important to know, enduring abuse doesn't make anyone weak, anyone can get trapped in abusive relationships even if they think they can't.

Tolys has been under Ivan for a long time this gives Ivan the advantage here to create the perfect atmosphere to isolate, control, and facilitate abuse.)

Also if you wonder why doesn't liet do anything or fight back in panels like this let me explain, you can't survive if you are constantly choosing every battle. Tolys has a lot to lose and he can't afford to lose it all by not being careful.

Yeah it bugs me when people complain that lithuania is protrayed as "weak" he's not.

#asks and replies #anon #rusliet #tw abuse

[hierarchyproblem]

In season three, there are a couple of points where a decision is made not to make use of Flint's reputation. Silver is sent instead of him to announce his return from the dead, and Silver is chosen as the man whose name is attached to the black spot. Both of these choices come over as kind of incongruous; Flint's fearsome reputation is one of the most powerful weapons the Walrus crew have! And of course the practical reason for this is that the writers know that Treasure Island doesn't work unless Silver also has a fearsome reputation. These moments are some of the points where the artifice of the show is most visible.

Except! Both times it's Billy who makes that call. It drops out of focus in the back half of the season, but you have to remember Billy still really fucking hates the captain. They're working together in the fight for survival against the encroach of civilisation, but unlike Silver, Billy and Flint are not friends!

So some of Billy's contributions to the crew's strategy in this season are:

Flint shouldn't lead raids, because he's too valuable to lose, it should be someone else

Flint shouldn't be the one to announce his return to Dufresne et al., because it would be kind of lame (?), it should be Silver

Flint shouldn't attempt to stay behind to free Vane, because he's too valuable to lose, it should be him (Billy)

Flint shouldn't be the boogeyman behind the black spot, because fuck him, he's already infamous, let's give someone else a turn - it should be Silver

All of these suggestions have the side effect of sidelining Flint. Notably as soon as Flint's not present when the judgement call is made, he's much more forthright that he doesn't want to invest any more power in Flint than he already has. I think you can totally read this into all the other instances too, even though the throughline isn't explicitly drawn: it's possible Billy is thinking ahead to how easy it'll be to remove Flint after the war is won.

What's most interesting to me, though, is bullet #2. Billy's argument here is (paraphrased) that Flint is the ghost in a ghost story, and if he shows up in person without any foreshadowing, the vibes would be wrong. Which is insane, right? We get scenes afterward of characters doubting that Flint really even is still alive, which isn't useful to them at all - that could've been avoided if he just went himself!

But, of course, the vibes would be wrong. Billy, Flint, and Silver are characters from a childrens' storybook. Black Sails is a show about stories, of course, and increasingly so as it goes on, but how much more true is that for Captain Flint, Billy Bones, and Long John Silver! These guys are storybook men, they're bound to the artifice of the story more than anyone. We know how it ends for them before we ever watch episode I, we know who they'll become. This is all over the show: how many times does Flint refer to himself as "the villain" for example? So of course if we're doing a ghost story they'll play along with the rules of a ghost story (hell, the Flint of Treasure Island more or less is a ghost)!

Yeah, fictional men make suboptimal choices that make for a more dramatic story, of course they do: that's what they're for. These guys play their part in someone else's tale not just in-world as pirates in England's propaganda, but as the characters from Treasure Island. They're bound to the story, whether they like it or not.

#black sails

[this-acuteneurosis]

So Im all here for the Pretty Ladies who dress nicely doing all the politics, wonderful court intrigue right here, are we gonna talk about in the back ground the majority known Male characters are in War killing dying thing? this story IS about the back room deals and others as main setting, (although we should tease you about dodging the wars in Star Wars sometimes just as a little poke.) curious cause the 4 main Male politco 2 are enemies in Rush and Palps. Kamino had a fem evil Senator! use??

Who wants to talk about ✨🌈Palpatine🌈✨!

There haven't been a lot of opportunities to talk about the structure and the influence of our main villain textually in the story, because Leia is kinda blind to her own bias, and also a lot of stuff that I have as part of his character just...doesn't come up.

So, keep two things in mind as I talk about DLB Chancellor Sheev Palpatine and pull back the curtain just a little.

His character is coming pretty exclusively from the OT and PT movies (with minor exceptions).

I'm taking advantage of a lot of silences and time period circumstances to draw conclusions about his character, so don't be surprised if I say something that isn't said out loud at some point.

Ready? Let's go!!

The OT features an overabundance of male humans in positions of power in Palpatine's government. This may have been balanced out slightly by novels that I haven't read or newer shows that I haven't watched, but the people Palps promoted to his special seats of power (Moffs, military leaders) are overwhelming human men. If we stretch canon to include the two Clone Wars cartoon series, the only women brought into Palpatine's plots are brought in by Dooku or other associates, not Palpatine himself. Of the three apprentices Palpatine has, two are human and one is humanoid.

I don't think I'm breaking anyone's brain to assert that Palpatine is sexist and racist. I know I'm not the first person to suggest or write this sort of character.

What I'm going to assert, beyond those points, is that Palpatine is only really impressed with himself, and assumes that anyone lacking qualities that he has is progressively less useful and important than him. So he's also, for lack of a better word, Force-ist.

(Ugh, nope. I still don't like it, but I don't have anything else.)

Palpatine absolutely has loyalists and panderers that are women. But as far as DLB is concerned, he's not promoting them, searching them out, or impressed by them. So women are going to be antagonists in this story more incidentally. On a small scale. Major antagonists are going to end up frequently being male and human. And I'm not going to try and change that.

Only tangentially related, but a little important because Leia comes into the Senate through Padmé's office, because of the prejudices listed above, I will pretty much die on the hill that Palpatine loathes Padmé. And he really loathes that he loathes her. That he has to have any feelings about her at all.

She's young. She's a girl. She isn't Force sensitive. He plucked her out and carefully curated her early political experience and was probably violently influential in her success in getting elected the first time. He had a tiny, fragile, 14 year old stumbling under the weight of the crown, ready to start his civil war and initiate the end of the Republic. She gets him elected. His plan is flawless.

Until it turns out that she has a spine, and humility. She has the courage to face danger and the grace to bow to another sovereign power. She trusts Jar Jar Binks when he suggests that the gungans have an army. Like this is somehow a viable plan for taking back her people, when Jar Jar isn't even slightly popular or powerful.

And she wins. Palpatine loses Maul, he loses Naboo, and he loses the opportunity to start a war. She sets him back a solid decade, at 14. On a hope and a the thinnest apology.

DLB isn't so much about creating a perfectly equitable Star Wars universe. I'm not equipped for that, and it wasn't the goal. This story is about a bunch of ladies doing politics and kicking Palpatine's plans to the curb because he was always vulnerable to the people he dismissed the most.

Palpatine's plans had the Jedi and the Senate in a steel trap of lose-lose situations. But he loses, over and over, to kindness, compassion, forgiveness, and diplomacy. He's stymied by it. He literally can't plan for it. I've had all sorts of fun having Leia and Padmé do "mother-daughter" politics together, but I love that in RotJ Luke Skywalker looked the Emperor dead in the eyes and said, "No. No you can't make me do this." Like his mother would have. It had to drive Palpatine completely nuts. And it worked.

Anyway, all that to say, there's a lot of story left, and I'm not going to give away all of Palpatine's plans and plots. But part of how Leia got this far without any resistance was that Palpatine saw a short, unconnected woman from the outer rim, had no idea she could use the Force, and went, "Not important."

And he was very, very, very wrong. :D

#Don't Look Back #Sheev Palpatine #Padmé Amidala #Leia Skywalker #Luke Skywalker #politics #bias #I won't say there are no “bad women” in SW #but do a count sometime at how many of them also...stop being “evil” #and get a redemption arc/story #or are just in it for the money #not malice #there are a lot of interesting things to explore on a meta level #about women in the GFFA

[collegecuckcakev3]

You asked for more color on our dynamic. My husband is a professor. We live in faculty housing. It isn’t unusual for students to stop by for help. My cake first showed up last year around March. She dressed very suggestively and the two would go into his study for their tutoring sessions. He always closed the door. He has a doctorate and I dropped out of college to support him thru school. After getting the job on the faculty here I got a secretarial job with another professor. So, there has been a growing rift between us as he is intellectually my superior as are all his friends. When we have company I am the servant, nothing more. I’ve been told not to engage anyone in conversation so as not to embarrass him. The other wives, many of whom are on the faculty, too, look down on me and for good reason. He never wanted kids. Our sex life was mainly centered on his dominant side. I finally admitted I was submissive after denying it for years. I was graded as a wife weekly. If I received a bad grade I’d be disciplined, usually with his belt, but sometimes with the cane. Over the years I gained weight. It embarrassed him, I know, as most college professors are thin. When my cake finished the term I thought I’d seen the end of her, but when the next semester began she continued stopping by even though she didn’t have any of his classes. She’d often come from the gym still sweaty and he would tell me I should take more pride in my appearance and she offered to coach me. I knew he was bending her over his desk in his study regularly. They both knew I knew and didn’t care. She would assign me exercises to do and eventually she introduced corporal punishment when I didn’t do it right or failed to make progress. She took away my clothing privileges and said if I wanted to look disgusting I would have to do it nude. They no longer hide their sexual interludes. They do it in the bedroom now and I am allowed to watch and must clean them afterwards. I have to address her as Miss Taylor and ma’am even though she is young enough to be my daughter. She also told me she would be moving in with us in the fall. She told her parents she is getting free rent for serving as a pet sitter. I guess they consider me an animal. I have my weekly review and weigh in tonight. It is at six right before they go out for dinner. She will punish me and then decide what I can will be allowed to eat. Let me know if you want to know more, ma’am.

that is very hot. is you diet the only thing she controls?

[hedgiwithapen]

Jaime coming to terms with the fact he has an alien WMD in his spine and the fact he likes Khaji Da when others do not.

(vague movie spoilers here!) Jaime ducked over his textbook again, highlighter in hand. In the study corral beside him, his notebook was a mess of notes. To any of his classmates, it would be gibberish, which Khaji Da claimed was Ideal. 

"I don't think I need to worry about my grades being ruined by someone understanding my notes," he said to Khaji Da in a low voice, highlighting a section of Latin that Khaji Da helpfully provided translations for. 

"You should be more careful, Jaime Reyes," Khaji retorted, bringing up another option for cyphers. Jaime ignored the suggestion. "It's first year, they're all too busy studying to plot against me," he said, scanning the page again. It was nice to have a scholarship that covered everything, even textbooks, so he could buy them--new, even--instead of renting.  It was even worth his Abuela's singing anytime Jenny's name came up.  Acting like this was a telenovela, instead of like it was money for his father's life, made it easier on everyone. 

"Danger," Khaji's alert voice broke through Jaime's concentration.

"Where?" he hissed, wondering if he could make it to the library stacks before suiting up. He hadn't been totally unaware, but Khaji Da's senses were a lot better than his own. 

"Three cubbies down. Brian is posting on his blog."

"Khaji, that's not an emergency. Stop spying on people," Jaime whispered. "Seriously, you can't just hack the library's wifi and, what, see what everyone is looking at? All the time?"

"Of course I can. It's easy." Khaji Da said. "And I don't look at everything. I do not enjoy looking at the porn. Brian is complaining about us."

"Khaji Da, we're going to have a talk about priv--what?"

"He is complaining about Blue Beetle. You. And Me. As if it was our fault about that building yesterday." Khaji Da paused, clearly reading something else. "I can show him a threat to humanity--"

"No," Jaime said, slightly too loudly. The student librarian at the circ desk glanced his way, trying to arch an eyebrow and not particularly succeeding. "Not in the library, Khaji. I mean, not at all. You have to let it go."

"He should not insult you. You are a good hero. I am going to give him a virus."

"Please don't," Jaime said, knowing it was probably too late.

"Too late," Khaji Da confirmed. "You are disappointed."

"Some," Jaime admitted. "Look, you can't just... react like that. Some people won't like us.  That's their problem."

"Yes, it is their problem. Now Brian has no laptop. That is a problem for him."

"That's not what I meant. We can't just attack anyone who doesn't like us."

"I did not! You were very clear that there were to be No Plasma Weapons In The Library. It is rule 47.  I will add a subsection about computer viruses. "

"Thanks. I think," Jaime said, looking back at his notes.

"You left out part of the definition."

"I used shorthand. and your code thingy. I got it. Don't worry."

#dammit hedgi day 2023 #Blue Beetle #Jaime Reyes #Khaji Da #rip brian :)