#romantic relationships are far from the end all be all with these characters

[skinandscales-if]

Ok, MC breaks up with the ROs because of, idk, plot complications or something after a couple of dates. What's the reaction? (I am shamelessly trawling for angst)

Anon out here for BLOOD

For Atlas, he’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop for ages now. Hearing MC finally pull the plug, he’s almost relieved. It means he really was right, really did have good sense to consistently pull away and never commit fully, and he believes it saved him a lot of heartbreak. Even if he can’t quite look at MC the same. If its due to a good reason, he’s surprisingly courteous about it, and tries not to involve MC in his internal angst. Needs some time for certain.

Puck has been broken up with before and even though it’s never fun, it hurts a little more to hear MC break it off. They can’t force MC to feel something though, and maybe foolishly believes that someday they can work stuff out for the better. Until then though, they want to treat the whole thing very maturely, and will be very honest about how things feel, as they know bottling up their feelings is only going to leave them worse off. Can’t help the nagging feeling in the back of their mind that this was all inevitable though.

Of all the things Skye doesn’t want to hear, listening to MC break things off is by far the worst of them all. Instantly tries looking for answers and any way she can improve and make herself better so they don’t have to truly end things like this, and panics when there’s no way she can solve the situation. To her, she knows, as naive as she acts, that she won’t be the same with MC after this. It’s a low feeling in her gut that makes her want to curl up into a ball and wake up from this nightmare, but the fear of losing that friendship with MC, even separate from losing the relationship, is devastating to her.

At fist, Reese doesn’t believe MC. Of course they’re joking he’s jokes the same thing before. When the joke doesn’t stop though, the nightmare sets in. He’s instantly defensive, getting angry and snappish. He has to cut off these feelings, cut off this vulnerability before the tidal wave of emotions swallow him whole and extinguish him in the process. He’s looking for any in back to MC, any conversation they could’ve had earlier or anything he could’ve done something different but when that doesn’t come, he isolates himself. Enough getting hurt by people he loves. He’s tired of it.

[shitpostingkats]

An Asexual's love letter to Good Omens 2

There's an infamous quote by Neil Gaiman going around, regarding the general vibe of season 2, and many people (I believe humorously) yelling that it could not be further from the truth. Particularly in the last episode, where that happens.

I disagree.

The final episode of season 2 was deeply, deeply comforting to me. 

I am asexual. Have been my whole life. Even before I had the words to describe what that was, child-me had this feeling in their gut of being an outlier, that everyone was exaggerating, or in on some joke, that I wasn’t privy to. Because I was bombarded on all sides by shows and movies and books, telling the same story of love, again, and again, and AGAIN. It’s drilled into our brains with the same fervor as the days of the week, or the quadratic formula. Meet-cute -> misunderstanding ->declaration of feelings ->kiss. More or less steps can be added to account for runtime or complexity of narrative, but that’s the basic structure that a relationship follows. It MUST be, because that’s the formula every character who's ever been in a story goes through, often times when it even feels like an add-on, like it’s only there because this is a story, there HAS to be a romance. And it has to follow the steps.

For a long time, I felt love wasn’t for me, because if there’s only one way to be in love, I sure as hell wasn’t feeling it. 

Instead, the relationship I ended up in looked a lot like what Beezlebub and Gabriel go through. Meeting someone routinely until it starts to feel comfortable. Getting to know them and slowly growing more attached. Eating chips and listening to music.

We like to joke whenever someone asks us how long we’ve been together, because the answer is we just sort of slowly fell into it, and we honestly don’t know when the line got blurred between ‘friends’ and ‘partners’. And, at least for me, a good deal of that confusion, that hesitancy to label, came from the fact that what I was feeling, what we were, couldn’t be love. It couldn’t be romantic. 

We were just quiet and gentle.

And that wasn’t love.

Because it was slow, because it wasn’t physical, because there was no structure aside from consistency and companionship. Because it didn’t follow the Rules.

Then I found myself in stories, and it felt like a revelation.

Beelzebub and Gabriel aren’t the first time I’ve seen a love like I feel represented in a narrative, but it never stops feeling special. And I don’t know if I’ll ever stop celebrating it.

Throughout the sequence in the pub, I kept expecting them to “confirm” Gabriel and Beelzebub. A dramatic line, a kiss, a whatever. That’s what I’ve been taught to expect, after all, that’s the only way a relationship is “real”. Of course, this doesn't mean Crowley and Aziraphale sharing a dramatic kiss is wrong, or that I can’t see why it resonated with so many people, but for me. Those moments in the pub are worth so much more.The last scene might have been literally showstopping, but those handful of moments between the duke of hell and an archangel were the beating heart of the season for me. A simple love story in four scenes. No kisses. No ‘I love you’s. Not even any definition of what. The love Gabriel and Beelzebub have is strong enough for them to both want to shatter their worlds and flee their lives and it's just. 

It's just that. 

Two people in a pub, playing the other's favorite song, giving a little gift, buying a packet of crisps. 

That sequence means far more to me than any kiss ever could.

Love isn’t only real when it's hot and sudden and ephemeral, it can also be

Quiet.

And gentle.

And still romantic.

Still real.

[fruity-phrog]

Okay, I saw someone say that Nimona, while being good representation, “didn’t take the big step forward in queer rep that everyone says it did”.

That is wrong. So wrong, my dude.

Yes, an explicit and open queer relationship in children’s cartoons is not new, per ce. Hell, just this year, two popular kids’ cartoons had the main character in an open, adorable, plot-based queer romance. But this is different for a few reasons.

Reason number one, it isn’t left in suspense. Yes, they had that split for three odd weeks, but they started the film as a couple. One of the very first scenes is them together as a couple, Ambrosius saying he loves Ballister, them holding hands, Ballister leaning on Ambrosius’ shoulder. Ambrosius says he loves Ballister three times during the film, and none of them are any more than halfway in. It’s very clear, from their very first interaction, that they are an established relationship, which isn’t something I’ve seen...at all in other animation.

Secondly, they are the plot. Ambrosius not believing Ballister, Ambrosius cutting off Ballister’s arm, Ballister trying to get the video to Ambrosius - this is what drives the plot. In any other children’s animation with queer relationships, the relationship is not the main focus. Even The Owl House, which is so amazing with its constant representation, would still make sense if Luz and Amity never happened. But Nimona’s plot wouldn’t make sense without Ballister and Ambrosius’ relationship. It, quite simply, can’t be erased. It could work as a friendship, yes, but that’s the point. They could have just been two close friends that fell on opposite sides of a fight, but they weren’t. They were two lovers that fell on opposite sides of a fight. 

Thirdly, they aren’t sanitized for “family viewing”. An emerging trend in children’s animation is to only have mlm relationships as fathers to make them seem more “family friendly”. With the exception of Kipo, there really isn’t many tv shows or films that places light upon an mlm relationship. And if it does, it'll be a teen relationship because teenagers being queer tends to come across as less “dirty” and more “innocent”. But Goldenheart is none of these things. They are adults without the mollifying aspect of having a family. And on top of that, they fight. They wield swords and they get bloody and they shoot at things and get angry and yell. They aren’t “clean” and “innocent”.

As well as this, they are in a film. Films are far more accessible than tv shows. You have to watch twenty seven episodes before Lumity in toh is canon. Troy kisses Benson on the eleventh episode of Kipo. And there are two hundred and eighty three episodes of Adventure Time before Marceline and Bonnie kiss. But with a film, the queerness is much more forward - especially in Nimona, where it’s literally the second scene. Animated films hardly ever display queer relationships, but Nimona did.

Finally - they aren’t perfect. I don’t know about you, but three weeks of thinking your boyfriend/maybe ex is a murderer? Doesn’t sound like a healthy few weeks to me. I have only seen big relationship arguments portrayed in straight relationships in cartoons - think Star Vs The Forces Of Evil - whereas queer relationships either have the massive fight prior to being canonically gay - She Ra - or have conflict, not arguments, that are dealt with quickly - Dead End/The Owl House. But Goldenheart? Goldenheart suffers. Their relationship is pushed to such extreme boundaries as for them to be pretty much exes throughout most of the movie. And yet, they are clearly healthy, happy and very much in love at the end. 

TL;DR - Nimona is amazing with the queer representation, and it is a milestone for LGBTQ+ cartoons. Not only is the relationship romantic for the entire movie, the plot is driven by Ambrosius and Ballister’s sort-of-break-up. In short, they are treated the same way straight people are. They have flaws, they have massive arguments, they have plot importance, they have backstory. They are in love. And that’s what matters more than anything else. 

[kaysungshine]

𝓛𝓸𝓯𝓲 𝓛𝓾𝓼𝓽 ♡

{ Pairing } - Producer.bf!Jisung x afab.gf!reader

{ Genre } - NSFW; s/f/d(dark)*, PWP, established relationship

{ Synopsis } - Your boyfriend doesn't know any other method of stress relief, other than creating music. He can get so consumed by it, it can become the stressor. So you decide to present him with a new method. That's how you found yourself walking down the street in nothing but lingerie and a long coat.

{ WC } - 2.9k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, *forced orgasm/slight dubcon if you squint, everything is consensual but there is begging for more when reader might be at her limit so that's why I'm including dubcon (for those who may find it triggering)*, use of pet names (baby, angel, mine, my love, good girl & Ji), very lowkey needy/soft dom & romantic sub dynamic, worshipping reader, oral (f. recieving), squirting, overstimulation, unprotected piv (do as I say & not as I write, pee after sex too!), creampie, cum feeding & eating, fingers in mouth, pussy worship, I may just have gotten carried away with oral fixations okay? FORGIVE ME.

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - I originally was going to post a Hyunjin oneshot next, but I wanted to finish this one in time for Jiji's birthday! It's 2 am on the 14th where I am heheh. Hopefully you all like it. Han producing music will always be hot asf for me personally lmao. Barely proofread.

The air was cool, seeping underneath your long wool coat. In any other circumstance, on a late fall night, the coat would be enough to keep the chill out. Today however, it wouldn't. But you still kept walking, determined to make it to Jisungs studio. 

You focused on the clicking of the heels on the boots you wore. And the sound of the wind picking up, signalling a blustery night ahead. The small sounds calm your nerves. 

You were anxious about Jisung's reaction, he was in one of his moods again. You understand, you truly do. Juggling everything he has to on his plate, it was no easy feat. There were times he'd just let that dark veil take over, and shut everyone out without even meaning to. 

You knew he was in that state again when you hadn't seen or heard from him in three days. It wasn't for lack of effort on your end either. Every phone call sent to voicemail, every text sent by you was met with the same response;

'At the studio, I'll text you after, angel'.

You knew it was time for intervention when Chan texted you that he was only coming home, at 2 in the morning no less, to shower and change. No eating, no resting, just back to the studio afterwards.

This had happened twice before in the almost year you've been dating. Each time you remember talking with him afterwards, he always said the same thing;

'making music is my stress relief.'

That may be true, but it doesn't change the fact that he is also a workaholic. One who easily gets lost in the creative space he has built a career off of. And once that diligence sets in, it's hard to shake off. 

So here you are, ready to try a new approach. Ready to offer a new kind of relief. An alternative. 

You and Jisungs sex life was far from boring. Far from infrequent, you'd say too. But it surely was more... monotonous. You'd never complain about it, and neither would he. There was nothing wrong with it. It just happened at the 'perfect' times in your relationship. 

Before bed, after date nights, on monthly anniversaries, to express massive amounts of love, etc. 

It was never to celebrate happiness, calm anger, or comfort sadness. Never to relieve stress. 

You were determined to change that. There was no reason you could not help him in any way you could. And in this aspect, you knew you could. 

Still, you were nervous. This would be new, he never did well with new. 

Your footsteps stopped, leaving only the sound of the wind in your ears. Until you pressed your badge against the card reader, listening to the beeps, to the gears unlock. 

Once inside the lobby, the clinking of your heels against the vinyl tile filled your ears. Each step matches the thumping in your heart, you find yourself speed walking.

 You smiled and gave a little wave to the staff in the lobby, and they returned it. 

In the elevator, the sound of its melodic music filled your ears next. The whirring background noise the machinery made, stopped, as you reached your desired floor. 

There was silence when you stepped off. The flooring is carpeted now, and soundproof rooms lined the hallway leaving the night quiet. 

You took a deep breath and made your way to the door you knew was your boyfriend's. It was unlocked, thankfully. 

You let yourself in, seeing the silhouette of your boyfriends back facing the door in the blue lighting. 

He was all about ambiance in this facet of life, having LED's lining the ceiling. The only source of light in the room, besides the glowing screens of his monitors. 

He was sat in his chair, headphones on, hood up, head nodding in tandem with his fingers tapping. 

You took the opportunity to slide your boots off. Opting to keep your coat on, you brushed your hair over one shoulder. You took your badge from around your neck, and tossed it on the leather couch that was against the wall. 

Padding your way over to him, you place your hand on his shoulder lightly. He tenses under your touch, and turns his head. He's frowning when he first faces you, eyebrow furrowed together. 

When he sees you though, he softens. The corners of his mouth slightly upturning to a small smile. 

"Baby..." He whispers, sliding his head phones off. Soft lofi music is filling the room from them. 

He grabs your hand off his shoulder, bringing it to his lips. He's pressing soft kisses to your palm, and placing it on his cheek. 

"It's late my angel, why are you here?" He says in a husky voice with more volume. 

Your heart flutters at his gentleness, and you bend down to press your own lips to the top of his head. A musky, yet spicy vanilla scent fills your nostrils. His scent. 

"I'm here to help you baby." You murmur to him softly. 

That caught his attention. He fully swivelled around to face you, taking both of your hands in his. He gazed up into your eyes, a curious look on his face. 

You smiled down on him, feeling nothing but love for this man. You'd relax him in any way you can. You placed a hand on each side of his face, bending down again. No more words were said as you kissed him. As your hands slid down his neck, his found themselves on yours, pulling you closer to him. Matching your eagerness.

You let your hands fully slide off him, and tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Your trembling fingers were working the buttons on your coat. One by one, releasing the fabric from your bare skin. 

You stood up, letting the coat fall from your shoulders.

Jisung lets out a soft gasp, and licks his lips. 

Exposed to him, was his favorite lingerie you owned. It was a bra and panty set, satin and lace. Revealing. 

All white. 

Your boyfriends favorite part. He always said that the contrast against your melanated skin was a work of art. He joked about commissioning Hyunjin, if he didn't have to see you essentially naked.

So here you stood before him, presenting yourself to him. Silently willing him to do as he pleases. To take your body and use you to decompress. You were too nervous to say it.

He traces the swell of your breast with a finger, curving around the delicate lace. It's a simple touch, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps blooming on your skin. 

"So sexy." He mumbles, eyes roving your whole body. 

He stands up, kissing you desperately, and walking you back to the couch. Your knees hit the back of it, and you're forced to sit. Lips ripping away from his, panting at the desire in his eyes. 

All your nerves were gone. New or not, it would never change the fact that Jisung craved you as much as you craved him. 

He held himself up with his hands on the back of the couch, and hovered above you for a moment looking you in the eyes. 

Then he was sinking to the ground, on his knees, between your legs. His hands smooth over your thighs, making them pliant with soft kisses, before he spreads them open. Your pussy is glistening behind the lace, and he licks his lips again. 

His hand glides from your thigh, to your heat. Thumb brushing against that sensitive bud, the friction eliciting a whine from you. 

His eyes snap up to you, and he holds your gaze as his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core. The tip of it flicking deliciously against your sensitive clit. 

"Mmmm..." He groaned at the taste of you, "All for me?"

You moan at his tongue swiping against you again, and again, "All for you, my love." 

His fingers hook underneath the band of your underwear, and he peels them off you. He's whimpering, watching as strings of your arousal stick to them. The cool air is hitting your sex, before puffs of hot air from his mouth is. And you're shivering again at the sensation. 

A gasp escapes you when his tongue slides between your folds. Lapping up your juices, and suckling at that bundle of nerves. You listen to the wet sounds his mouth is making against you, along with the broken melody coming from his head set. You get lost in it. 

Your hand finds his hair, and you're grinding against his mouth. He's whimpering and moaning with you, one hand palming at his bulge. The other has fingers teasing your entrance. 

You let out a loud moan when two fingers push into you, and your grasp on his hair loosens. He takes the opportunity to get air, panting, mouth hanging open. His cheeks, chin and lips all shine in the dull blue light. 

His fingers continue to pump into you as he watches your face contort for him. He's smiling with lidded eyes, basking in the fact that he's making you feel so good. 

"Ji..." You moan, needing more.

"My beautiful baby, let me worship you a little longer." And he's diving back down.

His tongue focuses on your clit, and fingers coaxing that gummy spot inside you. He's pulling moan after moan from you, making out with your lower lips, bringing you closer to the edge. Your thighs start trembling around his head, and he has to grip the fleshy part of one of them to stop you from squeezing him before he's finished. 

You're spilling over the edge, body alight and your release coating his fingers, and face. He's lapping up every little bit, determined to taste your pleasure on his tongue. Only when you start to whine from constant overstimulation does he stop. 

He's kissing his way up to your lips, leaving a wet trail behind him that you couldn't bring yourself to care about. 

You're not sure when he managed to discard his pants and boxers, but you feel his hard, bare length pressing against your inner thigh. 

He's rubbing his member against your pussy now, letting your slick and his saliva cover him. Kissing your neck as he's rocking against you, he whispers, "Angel, do you have another one for me?"

Of course you did, you knew you did. You needed to feel him, you needed to please him. So you started nodding fervently, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he sucked lightly near your ear and jaw. 

He had a grasp of his cock now, dragging the head through your folds with added pressure. Each squelch of your juices sounds like music to your ears, anticipation building in your body.

"'Gonna make you feel s'good." He's whining into your neck. 

He has your legs around him now, as he fills you slowly, both of you savoring the sensations it brings. Your pussy spasms around him, and it has him grunting. 

"Always feel so good squeezin' me..." He mumbled, letting you adjust, "...exactly what I needed..." 

Then he was pumping into you, and you felt it. All the frustrations he was holding onto, all the stress, all the vexation. He was translating it into the energy he used to pleasure you. Letting go of it all. 

You couldn't hear the soft lofi music coming from his head set anymore, instead the slapping of skin and heavy breathing mixed with moans were filling the room. You'd never be more thankful for a soundproof space. Neither of you were holding back. 

Your moans only being interrupted by quiet curses, and his being peppered in between praises of how good you feel for him. He made it known he was chasing your high before his, begging you to cum for him. 

"Please angel," he whispers against your lips, "need to feel you cumming on my cock."

His pace became quicker as he kissed you, and his hand slithered down to play with your clit. Your back arched off the couch at that, angling him deeper inside you. He groaned, and his thrusts faltered for a second indicating he was close. 

Regardless he was determined to finish you, and his tone grew more demanding, "Be a good girl... cum for me, angel."

And that was all your body and mind needed to let go, legs locking around him and body shaking. Your hands slid under his hoodie, and nails dug into his back. It was the kind of intense orgasm, that your moan got stuck in your throat, instead a rough growl coming out. 

You sounded absolutely feral for him, and you were. 

That was what pushed him over the edge, a slew of curses leaving his mouth as his hips stuttered. With a final harsh thrust, he cums deep inside you. All of the negativity has dispersed from his body, and he collapsed back to his knees. 

You're both panting, trying to catch your breath. You jolt when you feel his fingers in your folds, over sensitivity taking over yet again. He's spreading you open, hypnotized by the way his cum is drooling out of you. 

"So perfect, fuck." He says as he drags his finger through it. 

He's bringing it up to your lips, and your mouth opens instinctively. You're sucking his finger into your mouth, his essence salty but familiar on your tongue. 

His eyes are locked to yours as you work his finger, licking it clean. He slips a second finger in your mouth, letting you cover them in your saliva before he dips back down for a taste himself. 

You're whining around his fingers when his tongue glides against your clit, and your hips try to retract into the couch. Quickly, he has both hands on your hips, securing you in place so he can continue tasting you. 

"We taste so good together, my love..." He's mumbling against you. 

His words will never fail to coax submission out of you.

Your hand flies back to his hair, as good as it feels you're trying to pull him away. He's just burying his face deeper, tongue dipping into your entrance to make sure he's tasting everything. 

"Ji... s'too much... I can't-" You're pleading, even though you feel yourself succumbing to the overwhelming brushes of his tongue.

He hisses when you finally succeed in pulling him off you, "Please angel," He's begging again, "Just one more. I know you have one more for me." 

"Fuck, Ji, I-" 

He silences you with his tongue flat against you, another lick up to your clit "Please, need to hear you cumming one more time for me." He whines and starts leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your pussy. 

You always knew he was more of a giver. That even though it was you who had cum twice, and he only once. He preferred it that way. Even if he was the one needing the release more, he thrived more on your pleasure.

"Just be gentl-" You try to say, but cut yourself off with a groan. 

He's eagerly slurping at your core. Lost in the moment, all he has is your pussy on his mind now. Messily licking and lapping at every inch. He's shaking his head and moaning into it, keeping you pinned in place by your hips. 

You feel another orgasm starting to build quickly, clenching around nothing. He risks you bucking your hips roughly into his face, and takes a hand off your hip. He's pushing two fingers into you yet again, and you're seeing stars. 

His fingers curl, and his lips close around your clit, sucking lightly. You feel your release slip away from you, and your cumming on his face again. Yelling his name. He only grows more determined.

He leans back so he can watch the beautiful, writhing, mess he reduced you to. The thumb of his other hand is replacing his mouth, continuously flicking your bud. He doesn't slow his movements as you ride out your orgasm, instead picking them up. 

Your world turns white, and you feel yourself squirt on his hands. He's watching you in awe, whispering more praise for you as your juices spray over him. 

"So fucking sexy, my good girl."

"That's it, let go for me, let it all go."

"Knew you had one more in you, all for me."

"My perfect angel."

It's when you start to slip into that floaty space that he finally stops. He doesn't want you too gone, he's limited in the care he can provide here.

He's positioning you to lay on the couch, and he's laying behind you. You're both wet and sticky, and heaving for air. Yet, it's blissful. 

You lay there for what could've been minutes or an hour, you weren't sure. You were content in each other's touch. Your arm reaches back to caress his head, fingers combing through his hair. He's humming. 

"I love you." You finally murmur. 

"I love you more, angel. Thank you for this." He says, and kisses your shoulder. 

"You caught on quickly to my idea." You giggled.

He laughed with you, "I caught on halfway through it, actually. I was just beside myself with desire for you." 

You blushed at that, and you were thankful he couldn't see it. 

"I mean you showed up in my favorite set..." He whispers and starts toying with the lace on your bra, his finger slipping underneath to flick your nipple, "In ONLY my favorite set. How could I not show you how much I admire you." 

You felt his length harden against you again, and he rolled his hips slowly as he gripped your hip. 

You knew the night was far from over. 

As for how you were both going to escape and clean up? Well that was a problem for future you. 

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But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

[demontobee]

Good Omens is queering TV/storytelling - part 1: GAZE

I would argue that part of why Good Omens is so refreshingly queer is because it does not cater to the male gaze (which centers around the preferences - aesthetic, romantic, sexual, visual, logical, emotional, political ... - of mainly white men in positions of power):

no oversexualization of groups or types of people: Women or characters that could be read as female presenting are not overly sexualized. In fact, some of them are shown to be grimy, slimy and not sexual at all. All of them are real characters and not just cardboard-cutout on-screen versions of male misogynistic fantasies. They portray real people with real people problems. They are human, or exempt from our categories when portraying angels or demons. There are no overly sexualized bodies in general (as has so far also often been the case with young gay men, PoC, etc.), no fetishization of power imbalances, and not exclusively youthful depiction of love and desire.

sex or sexual behavior is not shown directly (yet): All imagery and symbolism of sex and sexuality is used not to entice the audience but is very intimately played out between characters, which makes it almost uncomfortable to watch (e.g., Aziraphale being tempted to eat meat, Crowley watching Aziraphale eat, the whole gun imagery).

flaunting heteronormativity: Throughout GO but especially GO2, there is very little depiction of heterosexual/romantic couples; most couples are very diverse and no one is making a fuss about it. There is no fetishization of bodies or identities. Just people (and angels and demons) being their beautiful selves (or trying to).

age: Even though Neil Gaiman explained that Crowley and Aziraphale are middle-aged because the actors are, I think it is also queering the idea of romance, love and desire existing mainly within youthful contexts. Male gaze has taught us that young people falling and being in love is what we have to want to see, and any depiction of love that involves people being not exactly young anymore is either part of a fetishized power imbalance (often with an older dude using his power to prey on younger folx) or presents us with marital problems, loss of desire, etc. – all with undertones of decay and patronizing sympathy. Here, however, we get a beautifully crafted, slow-burn, and somehow super realistic love story that centers around beings older than time and presenting as humans in their 50s figuring out how to deal with love. It makes them both innocent and experienced, in a way that is refreshing and heartbreaking and unusual and real.

does not (exclusively) center around romantic/sexual love: I don’t know if this is a gaze point exactly but I feel like male gaze and resulting expectations of what a love story should look like are heavily responsible for our preoccupation with romantic/sexual love in fiction – the “boy gets girl” type of story. And even though, technically, GO seems to focus on a romantic love story in the end, it is also possible to read this relationship but also the whole show as centering around a kind of love that goes beyond the narrow confines of our conditioned boxed-in thinking. It seems to depict a love of humanity and the world and the universe and just the ineffability of existence as a whole.

disability as beautiful and innate to existence: Disability is represented amongst angels by the extremely cool Saraqael and by diversely disabled unnamed angels in the Job minisode. Representation of disability is obviously super important in its own right, but is also queers what we perceive as aesthetically and ontologically "normal". Male gaze teaches us that youth and (physical and mental) health are the desirable standard and everything else is to be seen as a deviance, a mistake. By including disability among the angels, beings that have existed before time and space, the show clearly states that disability is a beautiful and innate part of existence.

gender is optional/obsolete: Characters like Crowley, Muriel and others really undermine the (visual and aesthetic) boundaries of gender and the black-and-white thinking about gender that informs male gaze. Characters cannot be identfied simply as (binary) men or women anymore just by looking at them or by interpreting their personalities or behaviors. Most characters in GO, and especially the more genderqueer ones, display a balance of feminine and masculine traits as well as indiosyncracies that dissolve the gender binary.

Feel free to add your own thoughts on this in the comments or tags!

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: douma & akaza as boyfriends

characters: fem!reader x douma, akaza

warnings: implied death, nsfw themes (no actual smut)

DOUMA

god he’s so fine for what

first off douma has trouble understanding human emotions

and dawg prefers to eat women

so the fact that y’all are dating??

ur special fr fr

you are so spoiled

douma = sugar daddy

u have one of his followers from his cult following u around and taking care of any and everything that u want

u mention seeing something in a store that u liked?

douma will have it before the end of the day

you’re like a little doll to him

he enjoys dressing you up in the cutest outfits, experimenting with different hairstyles, and playing with your makeup

teases the hell outta u

he thinks your reactions are amusing

especially when u do that cute little pout

or the puppy dog eyes

and don’t even get me started on when he makes u upset

he LOVES that shit

he always makes it up to you tho

but let a member of his cult tease you? or make u upset??

there will be hell to pay

he’ll take their head clean off their shoulders right then and there

won’t even bat an eye

so touchy

glued to u

ur sitting in his lap during cult meetings

he’s holding ur hand

he’s got an arm thrown around ur shoulders

he’s running his nails up and down ur arms so he can watch u shiver and get goosebumps

ur mad at him? maybe yelling at him abt something?

not anymore

he’s got his hands on ur face and he’s squishing ur cheeks so u can’t talk

thinks ur expressions are adorable

now douma sounds like a great boyfriend so far

but this man is MEAN

low key only keeps u around because u entertain him

i mean he’s been alive for so long and experienced so much

mans gets bored

BUT!!

if yalls relationship miraculously progresses past this

he’s turning u into a demon

that way u can stay with him forever

and he’ll never get bored of u

how could he when ur the first person to actually make him understand emotions?

especially an emotion as complex as love <3

but his true nature

comes out in the bedroom

dawg is EVIL

100% will make u cry

humiliation!!!

he’s a biter

ofc he is

idk somethin abt seeing his marks on you rly gets him goin

biting down just enough to leave a mark but not to break skin

yeah

id let him step on me

AKAZA

best boyfriend ever

no harm will ever come to u

protective asf

ur nocturnal at this point

bc ain’t no way ur leaving the house without akaza

so u gotta wait til it’s nighttime so he can come with u wherever ur going

such a gentleman ong

he’s holding ur hand to make sure u don’t get separated in crowds

or he has a hand on the small of ur back to guide u while u walk

he’s pulling ur chair out for u to sit down

he’s holding doors open for u

brings u flowers all the time

instead of looking for that blue spider lily for Muzan?

he’s picking u a bouquet of wildflowers

gonna get his ass kicked for that by muzan but oh well

100% the bf that’ll slow dance w u in the rain

with no music

ugh he’s such a romantic

god he loves u so much

and he makes sure u know it

words of affirmation!! all the time!!!

now

he’s a sweetie

but y’all ever heard that one phrase

and it’s like

gentleman in the streets freak in the sheets?

mhm that’s him

dude strong as fuck

and his STAMINA?

babe u are worn out

so many rounds

so many positions

u can’t keep up

ain’t no way i’m sorry

but the aftercare is on point

when he’s done puttin u through the ringer

he’s drawing u a bath

and making sure u drink some water cause u lost a fuck ton of bodily fluids i’m sorry

gross

cuddle bug!!

and the pillow talk!!

he’s the best

i love him sm

[jubileemon]

In the music video, Blitzø is represented by the Moon, while Stolas is associated with the ocean, initially walking on it before being submerged in it. This is actually very symbolic of their dynamic. The Moon controls the tides, but at the same time, it orbits around the Earth. Blitzø relies on Stolas and is drawn to the force of his power that he needs to accomplish his goals. However, Stolas is controlled by Blitzø's gravity as well, to the point of drowning in his emotions for the imp. They both profoundly affect one another.

Even the string that ties Blitzø and Stolas together is deeply symbolic. The majority is Stolas's blue, which is representing how much he's put into the relationship so far, as well as the massive amounts of feelings he's going through dealing with possibly losing Bitzø once he gives him the crystal. He has so much length to it because he's being so much more open about his feelings as well.

Meanwhile Blitzø's red is barely there because he doesn't, and possibly can't, put more into the relationship than he currently does. He has so much self-hatred that it's almost impossible for him to love anyone romantically, considering he doesn't even love himself. That and he's scared to put himself out there only to be hurt. He shows so few emotions and so his portion of string is immensely shorter. When it snaps, it all goes back to red on his end as all his trauma and repressed emotions about it flood back and envelope him in the moon once more.

Pay attention to the size of the moon. At first the moon was small, that is, these "walls" were thin or insignificant (this can be recognized from the childhood of Blitzo and Stolas, Blitzo was full of enthusiasm and hope, but now it is slowly fading away). Previously, Blitzo was more open, but after many events in his life, his walls began to increase (he was used by his father for profit, his best friend Fizzaroli suffered because of him, etc.), and eventually became huge and impenetrable (he does not share many things, not even with his own daughter, and he's afraid to trust Stolas on purpose). Even Stolas, with his tall stature, cannot compare with them. This literally shows that Blitzo can't trust anyone.

Stolas sees this and tries to break through them, but until they talk, the walls will not be possible to get through. It is precisely because this "barrier" cannot be destroyed that Stolas will give Blitzo the opportunity not to depend on him because of some kind of grimoire. The Moon's increasing size may also indicate that Blitzo is becoming a significant figure to Stolas. He wants to be with Blitzo not only physically (by type of sexual attraction), but also emotionally. In other words: Stolas fell in love with Blitzo seriously, not in childhood, when it was just sympathy, but real love, which is difficult to get rid of.

The symbolism of Blitzo as the Moon is very reflective of his and Stolas' relationship. Not only is it a callback to the fact that they mostly see each other once a month on a full moon to do “the deed”, but it it's also just a great metaphor for Blitzo as a character. Humanity has been fascinated by the Moon for a long time and tried to reach it for centuries and it was only in 1969 (relatively recently) that they managed to do it. The moon had always been this gorgeous, desirable, yet unreachable thing and that's exactly what Blitzo's love is from Stolas’ perspective.

Stolas' love for Blitzo is represented by the moon. First small and bright, something he can hold close and dear. Then larger, something harder to hold but something still fully within his grasp. Then at the end, impossibly large while also just out of reach

The moon also mirrors the power dynamics between Stolas and Blitzø, at the start with Stolas holding all the power, then Stolas putting himself at Blitzø’s level when he finally tries to look deeper and see what Blitzø needs and his walls. Then the moon grows larger than Stolas as he intends to give Blitzø the crystal so he doesn’t have to depend on him anymore. And now the power in the relationship shifted towards Blitzø. Whether the relationship continues is now up to him.

[signedkoko]

hello, good afternoon/night!

I was wondering if you could do a vox x character (?) oneshot where the other person has royal status (something similar to stolas).

I’m interested to see if vox would change his attitude if he was interacting with someone above him, or if he would act the same as usual.

either way, I hope this makes sense and thank you so much!

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which you are apart of the ars goetia family, and Vox doesn't know much about royalty. Reader is genderneutral.

Being one of the 72 members of the family didn't feel special from your point of view; you were royalty, yes, but what that actually meant was beyond you

Nevertheless, you were representative of innovation, and your role as an 'aristocrat' was quite literally the most dull of all: an archivist

Your role was to document, file, or archive every piece of information that has ever existed or will exist, and to protect it all in your library

You were a vast network of knowledge, not too different from a computer

That was where you and Vox became so similar, he was certainly an impressive overlord worth meeting.

You found yourself archiving logs upon logs of his creations, of his ad campaigns, of his scandals; he was always up to something

It piqued your interest, so you were sure to note the next time you were in proximity so you could meet him

Vox didn't give two shits about royalty, but what he did care about were the opportunities it presented

It was worth being nice to them and biting your tongue, and in all honesty, he wasn't much of a hot head when it came to people he didn't know

He had files on every member of the Ars Goetia, including yours, and he'd developed a bit of a 'celebrity' crush

You seemed so like him, but he knew pictures could only say so much about a person and moved on

Both of you knew the other would be at the same event, and like magnets, you came straight to one another

Vox used his television charm to lure you in, and just like you'd hoped, it worked

He is extremely nervous around royalty because, truth be told, they really are far more powerful than he or any other overlord

Not to say he doubts himself, but he understands his limits

And being technology itself, he also knows that your ability nearly pales his technology—computers are without a doubt more capable of storing information and processing it than any human or demon ever could, but you were beyond that

That is to say, he is extremely impressed with you and asks a lot about your ability, almost hoping it'll reveal some kind of trick he could use too

Unfortunately, no tricks, but he does find you to be just as kind as he'd imagined

Ars Goetia is extremely strict about the relationships they have, but fortunately for you, you knew every rule and loophole there was to know and managed to get by with 'one of hell's strongest overlords'

He is very adaptive to rules and customs, so it's no issue impressing your family with his seemingly infinite skills

" I didn't know you knew all that, Vox. "

" Yeah! You know, I didn't either! "

He absolutely goes autopilot a lot around other royals because he does not want to cause you any trouble, but you always tell him to relax and let him know you'd never let them get in the way

The hardest decision is who is moving, and when you eventually offer to abandon your lavish lifestyle for his minimalistic city style, he does whatever he can to help you adapt.

Really, you are his prince(ss), and he will treat you like the royalty you are

" So, does this make me a prince now? "

" Are you proposing? "

One of his favourite perks is that now he can really stick it to Alastor

Not that he would ever intend on putting you in danger—even if you'd win—but let's be honest

You would win against that stupid radio demon

Oh yeah, he's proud of that too

Author's Note - I ended up doing headcanons because I felt the prompt didn't have enough for me to go off of, I apologize for disappointing!~ Even so, I hope this still catches your interest 🖤

[baldval]

There isn't enough wholesome shipping content so can I ask for Alastor, Angel, Husk, the Vees, and Lucifer with an S/O who likes to cook and bake and it's their primary love language. Hust making sure they've eaten or have treats to snack on or even cooking with them.

BAKING W HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡

characters: alastor, angel, husk, vox, velvette, valentino, lucifer

warnings: incredibly fluffy fluff fluff fluff

a/n: this can be mostly read as both platonic or romantic (except for the parts where i explicitly say that it's romantic) so enjoy x.

ALASTOR:

ᰔ lowkey probably has never even baked before.

ᰔ just never had any interest in it.

ᰔ he really likes eating baked goods tho.

ᰔ especially the sweet stuff.

ᰔ total sweet tooth.

ᰔ he helps out sometimes in the kitchen at home, but nothing crazy.

ᰔ if you like baking, and you invite him to come join, he is so down.

ᰔ he's not the best at it, and you'll need to guide him through a lot of the process.

ᰔ but he is so eager about it.

ᰔ will request that you bake specific things together depending on what he's craving.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, he'll become more bold about his recipe requests.

ᰔ he'd also try to intitiate baking hangouts more often.

ᰔ the entire time he'll be sneaking glances at you with this cute slight blush on his face.

ᰔ he is no stranger to pretending to not know how to do something so you'll come over and help him too.

ᰔ if things get more serious, i can see him getting more into it.

ᰔ but it'll always be more your thing.

ᰔ your number one supporter though.

ᰔ brags about you and what you baked all the time.

ANGEL:

ᰔ another one to not really be seen baking unless someone invites him to do it.

ᰔ except unlike alastor, who can make do, he's terrible at it.

ᰔ he can kinda cook?

ᰔ to an extent.

ᰔ but his baking is on a whole other level.

ᰔ he does really enjoy it though.

ᰔ just… mostly aesthetically?

ᰔ the process of creating something from scratch, assembling the ingredients, kneading them together, and watching them become something beautiful.

ᰔ it's all very soothing to him.

ᰔ loves the smell too.

ᰔ regardless of if you're in a platonic or romantic relationship, he would never decline an invitation to come bake with you.

ᰔ though he would definitely stay on the sidelines, prefering to instead keep you company and hand you what you ask for.

ᰔ will send you recipes that remind him of you.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, or if you are in a romantic relationship with him, you might notice him making every excuse on earth to spend more time with you in the kitchen.

ᰔ and he'll do everything he can to help out too!

ᰔ passing you tools, giving you praise, cleaning up after you, brushing the flour from your cheek.

ᰔ name it, he'll do it.

ᰔ he's so sweet about it too.

ᰔ will offer to feed you, and never fails to have the biggest grin on his face when you agree.

HUSK:

ᰔ local hotel bartender probably does not bake.

ᰔ probably pretty impartial to sweet things as well.

ᰔ he's just more of a savory guy.

ᰔ if you liked baking, and you ever decided to invite him along for the ride, he'd actually be down for it.

ᰔ it's not his thing, but it's yours.

ᰔ and if it'd make you happy to spend time with him like that, he sees no reason to say no.

ᰔ just make sure to guide him along and give him tasks.

ᰔ otherwise he's completely lost.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, I could see him taking interest in your favourites.

ᰔ shyly requesting to cook those together next time.

ᰔ he'd try to appear nonchalant about the final product, but inside he's actually pretty happy he did it.

ᰔ especially after seeing your reaction.

ᰔ and if you guys do end up getting more serious, he may actually even end up getting pretty good at it.

ᰔ even going so far as to learn a few recipes by himself .

ᰔ he just wants to learn how to cook the things you like the most.

VOX:

ᰔ never thinks about baking honestly.

ᰔ he likes baked goods, but he just doesn’t see himself getting much out of making them.

ᰔ has all the ingredients available to him if he ever changes his mind tho.

ᰔ prefers things with dark chocolate or berries.

ᰔ and especially likes eating them with his daily cup(s) of coffee.

ᰔ if you like baking, you’ll have to invite him if you want him to join you.

ᰔ he’s not good nor bad at helping out, and will prefer if you take the lead for the majority of it.

ᰔ he will bring over the little extras or whatever you’re missing.

ᰔ and as you serve up, he’ll offer to make you a drink or something simple to go with it.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, he’ll start including you in his little 'vees' snack grabs.

ᰔ and if you ever mention needing something but not being able to find it in town, he’ll secretly get velvette to special order it.

ᰔ if you end up getting into a relationship together, he’ll make sure you’re always stocked up, mostly on general ingredients, but especially any decor.

ᰔ likes buying you sprinkles or marshmallows and making you custom mixes.

VELVETTE:

ᰔ love, love, LOVES anything tangy, zesty, or citrusy.

ᰔ doesn’t bake though, and doesn’t know how to either.

ᰔ but not because she doesn’t want to.

ᰔ just because she never really has had to.

ᰔ she knows she can just hire someone to bake anything she's craving.

ᰔ only to later on realise that nothing anyone bakes will ever compare to what you make.

ᰔ if she ever has a craving, she’ll go straight to you.

ᰔ would also love to join you in your baking endeavours.

ᰔ if she has a crush on you, you’ll probably see an influx of messages from her describing the newest baked goods she’s tried or heard about.

ᰔ or she'll straight up just send you recipes.

ᰔ she’d also probably memorise your favourites, and find herself subconsciously looking for them whenever she goes shopping for herself.

ᰔ if you get into a relationship together, and especially when you move in together, i could see her indulging in baking as a pastime more.

VALENTINO:

ᰔ val knows he's not good at baking.

ᰔ but he loves doing it so much.

ᰔ and you can see how eager he is about it.

ᰔ so you're of course, super encouraging.

ᰔ truthfully, his baking isn’t that bad.

ᰔ i mean, he makes mistakes often.

ᰔ and things usually end up a bit burnt .

ᰔ but you can always eat around stuff.

ᰔ likes a big range of baked goods and flavours.

ᰔ but especially likes eating whatever you make for him.

ᰔ he might ask you for help to make sure nothing goes wrong.

ᰔ you’ll figure out quickly that’s he’s actually got a lot of good ideas.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, he’ll start recommending you his favourite recipes.

ᰔ he’ll also ask you for help more often.

ᰔ if possible, he hopes that you’ll be able to make something together.

ᰔ and of course you do.

ᰔ if you do get into a relationship, he'll keep baking.

ᰔ he knows he's getting better and might get all cocky about it with everyone else.

ᰔ but behind close doors, he kisses you as he states that he owes it all to your help.

LUCIFER:

ᰔ actual closet baker.

ᰔ has a cute apron and matching utensils.

ᰔ wears it all the time.

ᰔ he's like- really good at baking bread.

ᰔ he'll make it all from scratch.

ᰔ he even has a few starters setup - uses it for his lunches.

ᰔ he gets so awkward whenever he tries to gift you one of his loaves.

ᰔ if you ever ask to bake with him, he'd accept, but only if you're at least good friends by this point.

ᰔ and he'd be a little hesitant about it too.

ᰔ if he has a crush on you, and you get past that initial shyness, will invite you to bake with him all the time.

ᰔ he's pretty dependable too!

ᰔ if there's anything you're unsure about, he'd be willing to teach you.

ᰔ he loves to put on your apron for you.

ᰔ if you're in a romantic relationship, will bake things for you all the time.

ᰔ totally the type to put pretty designs into what he bakes as well.

ᰔ he'll write "i love you" in a cake you're working on together while you're not looking.

[buckets-and-trees]

hii i have a request this can be for Ransom or Andy

But imagine y/n and him are in an arranged marriage. y/n is doing everything she can for him to sign the divorce paper for examples smashing his cars, serving overly salty food, cutting his expensive clothes into pieces, disrespecting his workers, and spending his money on the most useful things (but if it ransom spending money at “low class” retail shops only bc I feel like he’ll hate that), etc.

instead of giving her a divorce, he just randomly starts acting like a romantic gentleman until the night ends he punishes her 🙊😈

I have to apologize for taking so long to answer this ask... and forgive me for not using all the inspo you dropped my way, but from the MOMENT I read this, I knew it was going to fuel something very specific for I'm Your Man Andy and his entrapped fiancé reader., and so I still needed to post it as an answer to this to give some credit where it's due. So even though it took months and months to get to here, this is the result.

Title: Don't Look Too Far Characters/Pairings: soft!dark mafia Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: After jetting away with Andy for a week, you're back. The reality that this is going to be your life starts to settle in in very unsettling ways. And although Andy's taken so many liberties with you already, he finally crosses a line you didn't know was on the board.

Content/Warnings: violent behavior; spanking as punishment; emotional manipulation; explicit smut: nipple play, cock stroking, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex; use of pet name (sweetheart), implied dacryphilia

Author Note: This is not a stand alone section! You can find the previous parts here.

Author Note 2: I've been sitting on this for a long time, and I'm excited to finally have it here to share with you. Some of you genuinely seem to love this awful Andy, and you'll like this chapter. Some of you kinda like him against your will and I think you'll like this chapter (cough @stargazingfangirl18 cough). Some of you loathe this man, and you might like at least a few things in this chapter (looking at @biteofcherry).

You are glad to get home from your whirlwind trip with Andy.

Everything had been stunning, luxurious, and beyond your wildest dreams in one of the places you’d been longing to go almost your entire life. Even Andy had been nearly wonderful and certainly subjected you to endless spoiling and copious amounts of exquisite sex.

He makes all of this so difficult.

The private jet touches down in the early afternoon, and Andy allows you to avoid him until dinner. One of the things he’d made clear was an expectation from day one was having dinner together. After dinner, he insists on taking you for a ride in his Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante – not his only sports car in the gargantuan garage of his mansion, and not even the only Aston Martin. Though he gave you no choice in whether or not to join him, he doesn’t force conversation, merely lets you enjoy the scenic drive, occasionally holding your hand. Once home, he takes you to bed and gets you to scream out through two orgasms for him before he lets you rest in peace.

The next morning, you awake alone. Andy only invokes a little small talk in the kitchen, lets you know he’ll be taking a few meetings, places a kiss on the top of your head while you eat breakfast at the counter, and then leaves.

It is more room than you have been used to in the mornings, and you don’t question it. You are happy to have the Saturday to yourself.

Three days after Andy so decisively put his engagement ring on your finger, he put a black card in your wallet. Today you will break it in.

You start at a hair salon you have never been able to afford but that had been on the “essential” list of prenuptial rituals for some of the wealthiest brides you’d planned nuptials for. Having the long-standing relationship with the establishment to arrange appointments for your clients meant they were willing to fit you in last minute for the late morning.

You hold yourself back from doing anything drastic. You don’t want to give Andy the satisfaction of driving you to go for a new style. You leave more than a generous tip.

You get lunch at a small sandwich shop – one of your favorites. You choose a table with a view out one of the large windows. It’s nice to be in a familiar place, even with the presence of Shep watching out for the non-existent security threats.

After lunch, you ask Mark to drive you to the plant nursery you love.

You get everything you want, leaving no plant behind if it strikes your fancy. You buy lovely pots for all of them and never look at price tags. When you tap your card for the enormous bill, it’s with a self-satisfied smirk on your face.

Next you go to the nail salon. They are busy, as it’s Saturday afternoon, just as you knew they would be, but they say they can take you in an hour or less, and since you have no demands on your time, you’re more than fine waiting.

As it’s late summer, it really is too warm for the plants to stay in your car, so you insist on sending Mark home with the plants – you know better than to try to convince Shep to go with him. The man has made it clear he will not shirk his duty as the point man for the security Andy has assigned to you. He’s ever present, and you don’t give him a hard time – he’s only doing his job. Shep doesn’t like your suggestion, however, and instead calls someone from the house to come pick up your plants so neither of the men have to leave.

Once your pedicure and manicure are complete, you check your phone while you’re escorted to the SUV. Your mom has sent you a text.

MOM: Call me when you get a chance! I want to hear all about your trip!

You frown as you slide into the backseat.

How did she know?

Since being trapped and installed into the life of the mob boss, you’ve avoided getting together with any of your friends or family, phone calls, and any deep text conversations. It’s self-isolation, nothing mandated from Andy. But what would you tell them about your new circumstance? Forced into an engagement with a charming, handsome man who just happens to be a mobster with control issues you were sure you could never escape from? Not a subject you want to get anywhere close to.

You only hesitate for another moment before you hit the call button and place the phone to your ear as Mark starts your drive home.

“Hello, dear!” your mom’s voice is clear and full of excitement.

“Hi, Mom,” you reply, smiling despite yourself.

Your heart aches for the weeks it’s been since you two last spoke. You missed her voice. You’re close with both of your parents. Your job had kept you incredibly busy over the past five years, but you usually spoke with them at least once a week and made it out to their house in the suburbs once or twice a month.

“I got your text,” you say simply, not sure how else to begin.

“Yes!” she exclaims, her voice full of enthusiasm. “I want to hear everything about your trip! But first, we have to talk about Andy!”

She can’t see it, but your jaw drops. “Andy?”

“He made us promise not to say anything until after lunch today – and I’m sorry, it’s why I haven’t texted or called all week, I wasn’t sure I couldn’t NOT bring him up, but he told us everything! How you met–”

“Well, you know I planned that signature gala for him,” you interject, somehow needing to jump in to clarify that point.

“Of course, yes, but how he was so impressed by you but waited until the event was over before saying anything, how he couldn’t help moving so fast with you. When he reached out earlier this week to set up the lunch with your father and I, he said he wanted us to meet him without you there so that we could thoroughly vet him and judge for ourselves without worrying you, make up our own minds even though he was obviously hoping we would approve since you’re engaged, but he didn’t reveal that detail until today.”

“Oh,” your mind is racing. “Andy always seems to have something up his sleeve.”

She laughs. “I can only imagine! And things certainly developed quickly!”

“Yes…” your voice is thick with hesitancy, and you know you can’t hide it from her.

“But your father and I want you to know that while you don’t need our approval, you have it. We’re surprised, but we approve. He’s so clearly smitten with you, and we know you would never jump into an engagement like this unless you were sure. We trust you.”

You don’t know what to say.

“I would have told you and Dad about the engagement,” you say. You don’t know when you would have. You were still so freshly coming to terms with its reality and ramifications…

Now telling your parents about Andy is yet another thing he has stolen from you.

“We know! We were young once, too! I can only imagine how much that man must have swept you away!” she soothes and exclaims, her voice bright and beaming through the phone.

It makes your chest ache because if this had evolved without Andy’s constant control, it might have been like this, and you would have gushed and been giddy with your mom right now in this moment.

“Why don’t we get lunch tomorrow just the two of us?” you suggest, wanting nothing more than to talk to your mom, but desperately needing to get off the phone so you can regroup, clear your thoughts, and figure out what in the world you are going to be able and willing to tell her.

“I would love that! Where do you want to go?”

You quickly sort out details that you promise to confirm over text, say your goodbyes, and then you end the call. You set the phone on the seat, drop your head back, and shut your eyes, fighting back angry tears. You wouldn’t let them fall down your cheeks.

“Your mom sounds like a lovely woman,” Shep interrupts your thoughts.

The laugh that tumbles out of your mouth is short and underscores how ridiculous all of this is. “She is. She’s not perfect, but she’s the best and has the biggest heart,” you respond with a genuine smile.

“She passed it on to you,” he says, meeting your eyes briefly in the rear-view mirror.

“You two should probably meet her tomorrow,” you offer up.

“We look forward to it,” Mark chimes in.

That’s the end of the exchange, but it dawns on you that while these two men have been assigned to your personal security and transportation, and they’re work for Andy, they have been nothing but professional, and you can see now that while they’re not warm and soft, there is a degree of care from them that has developed or that you’re only now recognizing exists that does seem to go beyond being a paycheck for them. Mark is probably close to your age, and you would guess Shep is eight or ten years older. Both men wear wedding bands on their left hands.

Having to have them assigned to you, you’re grateful it’s these two seemingly good men.

You’re sure there could be much worse.

You’re quiet the rest of the ride home, but your mind doesn’t stop racing.

“Would you like to get out at the front of the house or in the garage, ma’am?” Mark asks as you near the house. He always asks because the house is so large it makes a difference.

The corner of your mouth lifts as you decide, “The garage, please.”

The garage is a drive in basement level on the southeast corner of the house and holds two dozen cars, including the black Range Rover designated for you. You wonder if you’d ever be allowed to drive a car of your own again.

More aware now of the men, you notice there is a degree of ease that settles particularly over Shep now that you’re safe in the house again. You wonder if that’s always been the norm or if there’s a higher threat potential than usual. The shift does clue you into the reality that Andy is involved in more dangerous things than you thought. Instigator or target, you don’t know which he is, but regardless he’s swimming in dangerous waters, and you’re tied to his fate now.

This is your life.

Would you have chosen it?

Would you have?

A month ago, before the gala, you had genuinely been taken with him, even thought of him as you went to bed, alone, a hand on your breast and a toy between your legs and imagined what it would be like to have him there dealing out your pleasure instead. You hadn’t thought any serious interest being reciprocated from even the faintest possibility.

You had been so wrong.

And he’s dealt more pleasure than you had ever experienced.

More pain as well.

He was mindful of your physical limits, even if he rode them mercilessly.

He failed to comprehend the gravity of the rest of the pain he caused.

And today he reached a limit you hadn’t been expecting.

You slide out of the backseat when Shep opens your door, and instead of heading for the staircase in the corner, you move to the south wall of the garage and start opening cabinets. Shep tracks your movements but gives you space.

In the second set, you find Andy’s golf clubs.

Perfect.

You test a few of the drivers, and when you’re satisfied you’ve got the heaviest in your hands, you pull it clean out of the bag and make your way directly to the car you’ve noticed Andy favors most.

His silver Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante.

The very car he drove you around in last night.

You hold nothing back in your swings, cracking the glass with your second hit. The third doesn’t do much more damage, so you move to the metal body, and here’s where you see you will get at least some of your satisfaction, easier to create dents in the metal than breaking the windshield. You do manage to smash one of the windows. Then you round on the next car.

Neither Mark nor Shep move to stop you, but you do see Shep is on the phone briefly.

You guess that you won’t be alone for long, so you move to a third car. Andy arrives as you lay into the fourth car. You look over at him with apprehension, unsure of what his next move will be. He meets your gaze, surveys the damage you’ve done so far, looks back at you, and then takes up position leaning against the Range Rover.

You grit your teeth, then raise the club over your head and bring it down with a battle cry over the hood of the silver Porsche 911 Turbo. A fifth car bears the fire of your rage, and mid-swing on the sixth is when a someone finally grabs the other end of the iron. You scream in fury and turn to face Andy, who’s looming over you, his blue eyes dark, stormy, and his mouth a thin line.

You yank against the club, but his grip is firm. You don’t let go though, still trying to wrest it from his hands, eyes locked on his, and he uses the rod to pull you closer to him, nearly chest to heaving chest (yours, not his).

“That’s enough, sweetheart.” His fingers work yours away from the metal rod, and he clasps one of your hands in his to keep you close while - eyes on you - he tosses the club to Shep, who catches it easily.

You huff and try to pull your hand away, but he interlocks your fingers and then starts to lead you away and up the stairs. Not wanting to allow him seeing any petulance from you, you comply and follow him in silence. Adrenaline starting to taper off, you feel exhaustion seeping into your limbs, and part of you wonders if Andy knew you were reaching the end of your strength and stopped you before you would have lost steam on your own. Your stomach seethes.

Once on the main floor, you fall in step with him, not needing the staff to see anything that will make them talk. Some of them may be oblivious to why you’re here, but you know there are those who are aware at different levels that you aren’t here as the other half of a fairytale.

Your destination turns out to be the family dining room, not the formal one.

Dinner, of course.

He pulls your chair out for you, tucking it politely as you sit, and then takes his place across from you.

Sometimes you and Andy talk over dinner.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

If he’s going to be silent about today, say nothing more about your vandalism on arriving home, then you certainly are not going to stoke conversation. His eyes are on you frequently, but you ignore him.

Halfway through dinner and after taking a sip of wine, Andy finally says, “Your hair looks nice.”

You scoff. “As if you really noticed. Your men told you where we were.” You know it’s hardly changed.

Andy set his fork down. “Look at me,” he demands, tone serious, and so you comply. “They’re your men, and don’t make the mistake of thinking I will ever fail to notice a detail, especially when it comes to my wife.”

Your heart skips a beat - part fear, but part some flare in your heart that you hate reacting to his words. You raise your chin in defiance. “I’m not your wife.”

“Yet.”

Threat and promise.

As if the exquisite engagement ring whose heavy weight you were growing so used to weren’t a constant reminder.

Rather than think further on that, for the rest of the meal you consider his correction that Shep and Mark are your men when you’d said they were his. It was an interesting distinction, and you would put feelers out to ask about it later - not Andy, but maybe with the men.

When dinner is over, Andy stands and reaches for your hand. He always does. It’s unsettling because if only you had ever had a choice, the gesture would be endearing. A few nights over this month that you’ve been his, he kissed the back of your hand and left to attend to business. Some nights, he wanted to watch something with you before bedtime, or go on a drive like last night. Most often he takes you to the bedroom.

It’s the latter tonight.

You walk silently to the master suite together. Every muscle in your body is taught with tension, with the simmering rage and hurt of the day seething through your veins.

Andy closes the door and turns to face you.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re so upset before or after your punishment?”

“My - what?!” You glower and put your hands on your hips. “Why am I being punished? You let me smash two more cars before you even stopped me.”

“It’s not about the cars, it’s your refusal to talk to me about something that clearly has you worked up.”

“Worked up?” Your eyes widen and then narrow. “I’m not worked up, Andy, I’m infuriated.”

“Then tell me what crime I’ve committed.”

You scoff and turn away.

He catches you before you’ve taken two steps, gripping your upper arm. He hauls you toward the bed, takes a seat on the end of the mattress, and then lays you down over his lap. He takes both your wrists in his left hand and holds them firmly while his right hand pulls your pants down.

All of it happens so swiftly that you can’t even fight him, but you cry out when the first, harsh slap hits your bare ass. The sting is sharp and shocking. The second comes quickly after. You try to shake out of his hold, but he growls your name, tightens his grip, and the third slap comes even harder.

Four. Five. He kneads the flesh of your ass between some of the smacks. Eight. Fifteen. Twenty. Somewhere in the middle, the smacks morph into a swirl of simultaneous pain and numbness – a mirror of how you feel. You’re sobbing once he finally stops, body sagging in defeat over his lap. He lifts you carefully and lays you stomach down on the bed. You fold your arms and hide your face into the frame of them to cry and settle into softer cries, and Andy lets you have the moment of privacy.

It’s not long before you register Andy’s return though, his weight sinking onto the bed next to you. Then his hand is on your tender backside, applying a cold cream to your skin, and the relief makes you let out a shuddering sigh. He works it over you slowly, gently, methodically. By the time Andy’s finished, so are your tears. You’re still full of emotions, but they’re a swirling, complicated mess. You feel like the frustration has been spanked out of you, but you’re still hurt and angry, but now you’re also confused by this tender act. This only extends when he urges you to roll over, and sit up, and he kisses your forehead. You look up at him dolefully, he wipes away the remaining tracks of your tears. He’s shed his clothes from the day and is now bare-chested and in a pair of navy silk pajama bottoms. He proceeds to gently help you take off your shirt, your bra, and then slips you into a silk robe he’s brought from the closet.

Then Andy stands, scoops you up into his arms, and heads to the balcony of your master suite. He settles down onto the loveseat and arranges you in his lap so you’re sitting sideways over him, and he wraps his arm around you. It’s more of the confusing closeness, physical intimacy that you crave but can’t give into with him. It’s the first time you’ve been out here, and it affords a beautiful view of the darkening sky. Yet another thing you would have yearned for but don’t want like this.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” you say honestly.

He puts his hand under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

“But will you hear me?” You ask and turn your head away and out of his hand.

He smoothes his thumb over your jaw but - to your surprise - doesn’t force you to look at him as he had before. Instead he lets his hand drop and brings it around your waist so he’s got both arms banded around you again.

“You’ve taken so much from me, Andy. You’ve made it abundantly clear that I have no way out of this, but it’s been mounting and it came to a peak today. I had a day to myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to spend it with my friends or my parents because I can’t tell them about us! I haven’t spoken or texted any of them on more than a surface level since this all began. And I haven’t gone back to work yet, but I want to work, I need to work, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell them either!”

He is quiet for a moment. And then, “I knew you hadn’t told anyone, but why do you think you can’t tell them about us?”

“What am I supposed to say?” You scoff. “I can’t tell them that you threatened me with blackmail and forced me into our engagement!”

“No,” he agrees, “You can’t tell them that.”

“So, what am I supposed to tell them?”

“That you fell for my charms, that I surprised you when I declared my intentions and by how serious I was, that I made it almost impossible for you to refuse me. It’s enough of the truth.”

You frown and scrutinize his face. “Enough of the truth,” you repeat, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “Is that how you always live your life?”

 He lifts his chin, a flash of hardness in his eyes. “I’ve done what I needed to.”

“You didn’t need to go behind my back to meet my parents!” You blurt, the hurt in your voice bleeding out despite trying to keep it in, to keep it away from him, not wanting to share something so personal.

“I want to have a good relationship with my in-laws. My mother’s dead and my father was sentenced to life in prison when I was a kid.”

“But they’re my parents,” you stress. “I should have been able to be the ones to tell them about getting married. You stole that from me.”

Andy studies your face quietly.

You drop your gaze. You won’t tell him why stealing this moment – more than anything else he’s done – was your breaking point. You doubt he would care or understand, but he also doesn’t get to know something so personal. He hasn’t earned that right.

“You love them,” he finally says.

You nod. “We’re very close.”

He falls silent again.

Finally, you give an exhausted sigh. “Why did you have to do this to us?”

“I wanted you.”

“I wanted you, too. You should have let us fall into it.”

“Fall now.”

“I can’t,” you protest, and you look up to argue further, but he’s faster, cutting you off with a kiss.

His lips are demanding, and the heat he pours into the kiss seeps into the cracks he’s been chipping away inside you, and your traitorous body leans into the moment. You’re exhausted physically and emotionally.

You don’t know how you can ever let yourself fall for him.

But as his hands soothe up and down your back, you wonder if you have to deny yourself everything for the rest of your life?

What if you fell into him for one night? Allowed yourself to let go, to forget for just a few hours? You are so tired. And your body aches. And after so much hurt, betrayal, and anger running high through your veins for so many hours now, after the shock and release from being put over his knee, maybe you just want to forget and get lost in pleasure.

Pleasure you know he was far too capable of giving.

Not only capable of giving, but master of overwhelming you with it.

After he’s stolen so much from you these last weeks, maybe you want and need to steal a night of ecstasy without any thoughts.

You shift on his lap, his arms still around you, until you’re straddling his lap. You leverage his broad shoulders to push yourself up on your knees, and you look down at him. You can’t read everything in his dark blue stormy eyes yet, but you can interpret some of what’s there. He’s intrigued and you can see the spark of hunger flaring, but there’s something else you can’t quite read.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

He doesn’t pull you in closer, but his arms hold you steady in your kneeling stance. You reach for the tie of your silk robe, and you slowly pull it loose.

“Tonight is not for you,” your voice is low, quiet, but not soft, “it’s for me.”

His eyes narrow a fraction, but as you shrug the silky garment off your shoulders, he helps let the robe fall free to the ground.

Andy’s eyes rake over your naked form, drinking in every curve and dip of your body. His hands glide up your sides, rough palms contrasting with the softness of your flesh. You shiver despite the warmth of the evening air.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscles there. Your fingers trace the lines down to his abdomen, following the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath his waistband. You can feel the evidence of his arousal, and he groans, gripping your hips tightly, and you squeeze his length - big as the rest of him - the cock that has ruined you.

He leans in and his lips burn a trail down your neck, over your chest and find one of your breasts, nipping on the swell before licking at your aereola and taking it into his mouth. Your fingers rake into his hair, and he sucks insistently until your nipple is almost painfully hard. He releases it with a pop, then moves to give equal treatment to your other breast. You press your needy cunt down against his groin, keening for him.

You grind against him, and he can’t help but groan. In one fluid motion, he stands, lifting you with him. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist instinctively as he carries you back into the bedroom. He lays you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. He takes less than a second to push his pajama bottoms down and off before he joins you on the bed, his body covering yours.

His weight presses you into the mattress. You feel every inch of his hard body against yours, and you arch up, desperate for more contact. Andy's hand slides between your bodies, finding your slick folds. He groans when he feels how wet you are for him.

"Always so ready for me," he murmurs against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

You whimper as his fingers tease your entrance, circling but not entering. You buck your hips, trying to force him inside, but he pulls back with a dark chuckle.

"Patience, sweetheart," he admonishes.

But patience isn't what you want tonight. You want to lose yourself in sensation, to forget everything but the pleasure he can give you. You reach down and grasp his thick length, guiding him to your entrance.

He forces your hand away with a tsk, and you glare at him, but he is grinning, moving down your body already. He kisses the sensitive spot on your lower stomach, the one he discovered that always makes you gasp and arch your back for him. His shoulders force your legs open to accommodate his frame as he plants himself between your thighs.

Andy's mouth descends on your core, his tongue laving your sensitive folds. You arch into him, a moan escaping your lips. His beard scratches deliciously against your inner thighs as he works you over with his skilled tongue. He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, building your pleasure steadily.

Your hands fist in his hair, holding him against you as you rock your hips. The coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter. Just as you're about to topple over the edge, Andy pulls back, denying you release.

“Andy, please,” you beg.

Andy's breath ghosts over your sensitive flesh, making you shiver and whine. He places a soft kiss on your inner thigh, then another, slowly working his way back towards your center. You squirm, desperate for more contact, but his strong hands hold your hips firmly in place.

He chuckles, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through you. "I thought this night was for you," he teases, his beard scraping deliciously against your thigh. "Let me take care of you."

Before you can protest, his tongue laves a long, slow stroke up your slit. You cry out, your back arching off the bed. He repeats the motion, this time circling your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Your hands fist in the sheets as Andy's talented mouth works you over. He alternates between long, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, never letting you settle into a rhythm. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides two thick fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that he knows makes you see stars.

"Oh god, Andy!" you cry out, your hips bucking against his face.

He hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His fingers pump in and out, matching the pace of his tongue on your clit. The dual sensations are overwhelming, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy murmurs against your flesh. "Let go for me."

His words are your undoing. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, your body arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelms you. But he’s anything but finished.

Andy doesn't let up, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm and pushing you towards another peak. Your body trembles, oversensitive but craving more. You tug at his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

"Too much," you gasp, but he ignores your weak protest.

He adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously as he continues to lap at your swollen clit. The intensity builds rapidly, and before you can catch your breath, you're tumbling over the edge again. This time, Andy pulls away, allowing you a moment to recover.

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to nip roughly at your collarbone. When he reaches your mouth, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, your hands roaming over his broad back.

Andy positions himself between your thighs. You reach between your bodies and guide him to your entrance. You need him inside of you. He pushes in slowly, stretching you deliciously, filling you completely. You both groan as he slides in to the hilt, and you throw your head back. He stills there, kisses along your jaw, then gives a soft rock of his hips, rutting against you, but not thrusting.

“Move,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to urge him on.

Andy leans down and claims your lips again, demanding the intimate kiss as his price, his tongue licking into your mouth to tangle with yours. He then sets a steady rhythm that has you moaning with each thrust. You buck your hips to draw him in with each stroke. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans of pleasure.

You drag your nails down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. He hisses, then retaliates by biting down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure makes you cry out.

"Harder," you demand, needing more, needing to lose yourself completely.

Andy growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, the force of his thrust pushing you up the bed. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders. He sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his movements. Your walls clench around him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "Take what you need from me."

You're climbing higher and higher, chasing that blissful peak. Andy snakes a hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He rubs tight circles over the sensitive bud, and it's too much.

You shatter, screaming his name as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body convulses, clenching rhythmically around him. Andy fucks you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you're a trembling mess beneath him as he chases his own release.

It takes a few more strokes, and then he’s spilling his hot seed inside of you, groaning against your neck. He collapses his weight onto you for a few moments, catching his breath. Your hands roam over his back. If you had been given the chance to choose him, to choose this life, wrapped in his arms right now you would have felt blissfully content, and so since tonight was a pass on reality, you let a satisfied sigh fall from your lips.

Andy’s lips find yours again, and you kiss until you feel floaty and boneless beneath him, head empty of all thoughts.

When the fervency of the kisses finally slows into a languid calm, Andy finally rolls off of you. He reaches for the switch to turn off the soft lights that had been on, then settles on his side, facing you. He traces lazy patterns over your form with his fingers, and you close your eyes and simply feel.

You didn’t know you had fallen into sleep except that the motion of Andy pulling you into his chest so he can spoon up behind you pulls you back into consciousness. He chuckles softly at your little mewl, and then pulls you a little closer to his warm chest and plants a kiss on your neck, just below your ear. You settle against him without complaint.

You’re exhausted, and you don’t know where he finds the resilience, but his hand snakes down to cup your cunt again, and you hum as he begins to work your clit. You have no strength left in you, but if you don’t have to work for it and Andy’s going to give it to you, you’ve learned under his hand that he always knows how to coax out one more climax from you when you think you’re already spent.

Your breath speeds up again, and you can feel the promise of pleasure pulling at your muscles, tightening them for one final release.

As he works you quickly up to that point, he speaks directly into your ear. “You said tonight was for you, not for me. It’s the lie you needed to tell yourself to let go, and that’s fine, but know that your pleasure is always pleasure for me.”

And so unfairly, your body comes for him right then, exactly as he wants you to, and you cry out before going even more limp in his arms. He presses another kiss on your neck, and you can feel his satisfied smile against your skin. You desperately wish you could break out of his arms and roll away from him, but you do not have even an ounce of strength left, and so you simply let the exhaustion overtake you and escape from him in sleep.

You’re vaguely aware of how close Andy keeps you all night. Since he typically does, it’s a surprise when you wake to an empty bed. There is only a vague suggestion of sunlight beginning to come in the windows, so you know it’s still incredibly early. The sheet is down around your waist, and you splay your arm out to where Andy should have been. The bed isn’t cold, but there’s only a hint of warmth, so you know he’s been up for a while.

As if unnervingly on cue, Andy comes in from the ensuite bathroom and hums at seeing you awake. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

He strides right up to the edge of the bed, leans down, and plants a kiss on your cheek, then rubs his hand softly over your jaw.

“Morning,” you respond.

You hate how lovely this scene should be. Your heart wants it, but your brain reminds you not to accept this contrived intimacy he pretends is real and normal.

He crosses the room and retrieves his phone, starts to put on his watch, the finishing touches before he embarks on his day.

“You can sleep in,” he says softly.

“Why are you up so early? It’s Sunday.”

“Early tee time at the country club,” he answers.

You make a vague sound of acknowledgement and pull the sheet and duvet back up to burrow in for a lazy morning of more sleep and maybe some reading.

“Enjoy lunch with your mom, by the way,” he says at the door. “I’m teeing off with your father, so I’ll persuade him to have lunch with me to give you two time as just mother and daughter.”

You suck in a sharp breath and he departs, dropping this revelation, and leaving you to seethe at his making yet another bold move, seeping steadily further into the foundations of your life.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

SO

YEAH

Still with me here?

Even though I figured out the plot point for this chapter a while back, when I wrote it, I had to take a break a few times because I was upset over how some things were playing out.

I was also surprised by some of the development with her security detail of Mark and Shep. I randomly made them up really quickly during Prepare for Takeoff, but then here I learned they were going to end up being even more important than I thought (including something key for two specific future plot points).

[blueinsomnia]

Ekko and Jinx's History: A Simple Comment

So I read something the other day talking about how fans are making Ekko and Jinx's relationship romantic and not all male and female characters HAVE to be romantically involved. I agree with this. I'll go so far as to say that this is true for any character of any gender. In my own writing (with my original characters) I rarely have romantic undertones. Mostly just friends being friends. While I get the allure of the romantic chase, of most people we deal with in life we aren't connecting to them romantically. Friends are friends.

That said, this is not the case with Ekko and Jinx. From Ekko's release in 2015 there has always been some romantic undertones with Jinx. Riot has always been a bit mysterious about what his relationship is with Jinx. Ekko even has a line in the game where he says:

The foundation had been laid long before Arcane was released in 2021.

Between 2015 and 2021 (when Arcane was released), a lot of official art and such dropped hints about SOMETHING going on between them. Much like Jinx being Vi's sister. You have to remember that this was originally a secret. It was Ghostcrawler who finally confirmed fan theories, even though he tried to walk it back later. Oops! Ha, ha!

(An image from 2015)

To add to the mystery, on both of their official pages, Ekko is listed as connected to Jinx and Jinx is listed as connected to Ekko. However, at no point does Riot explain how they're connected. Their stories don't mention the other at all. So this means that some things were planned, but they weren't ready to reveal. I'm still of a mind that they were waiting to use Arcane as a vehicle to get into Jinx's history and how that intersected with Ekko and Vi. Before Arcane, we knew very little about Jinx and how she ends up the way she does.

Then, before Arcane came out we got this little nugget in Legends of Runeterra:

Remember, this is 100% from Riot themselves. Not the fans. Riot laid the seeds down and it was the fans who picked up on it and ran. I doubt anyone would have ever thought there was something between Ekko and Jinx without Riot dropping hints. By the time we got to Arcane Season 1, the train was already in motion.

Let's not even forget the insane number of Jinx references in the True Damage video they released in 2020. Generally it wasn't odd to see Ekko and there would be some sort of Jinx reference somewhere. That wasn't true for Jinx until recently.

After Arcane, Riot themselves has been dropping hints like crazy. Jinx has been putting Ekko's hourglass symbol on stuff. League Brazil did a huge Twitter AMA with Star Guardian Ekko and Jinx. Jinx goes to the Grammys with Ekko.

Another official Ekko and Jinx moment. Check out her shirt!

And let's not forget this one for the Billboard Music Awards:

They went to the event together!

So...while I see people saying that the fans were to blame for Jinx and Ekko being romantically involved, it should be pointed out that this is all Riot's doing. The best part is that the fans have been largely receptive to their efforts in promoting the couple. Riot has waited a long time to be able to say what they want to say about them.

And if there is any doubt about where they're going with them as a couple, let's just remember this cover for the art book for Arcane:

Another official piece done by Riot and Fortiche themselves.

Sorry for the long post, but I thought it was important to point out that it's not the fans who set this up. It'll be interesting to see where this all goes, but based on their track record so far, it should be clear where the end game is headed.

Thanks for reading!

[princesssarisa]

As I've read different people's views on Little Women, I've realized that for different readers, it's a fundamentally different book.

When I see someone describe the "universal" experiences of identifying with Jo, wanting her to marry Laurie, and disliking Amy, I remember all the proof I've seen that these are far from universal. The latter two weren't even my experiences: identifying with Jo, yes, but shipping her with Laurie and disliking Amy, no!

Even people with equal amounts of knowledge of the historical context and of Louisa May Alcott's life seem to come away with vastly different feelings about the story and characters.

I suppose there are a wide variety of reasons for this. First and foremost, which of the four March sisters you personally admire or relate to the most. Then there are other factors like your gender, your age when you first read the book, your relationship (good or bad) with traditional femininity, whether you read Parts I and II as a single novel or as Little Women and Good Wives, your relationships with your own family members, your religion and ethical values...

The list goes on.

That post from @theevilanonblog that I reblogged recently about the different interpretations of Frankenstein makes me want to write out a similar list of ten different views I've read of Little Women. Here it is:

Little Women is about the March sisters learning to be proper virtuous women of their time and place. With Marmee as their role model (a role later shared by Beth as she becomes increasingly angelic in her illness), they learn to conquer their flaws, give up their wild ambitions, and settle down as good wives and mothers. This is especially true for Jo, whose character arc is a slow taming from a rough tomboy to a gentle nurturer. It's a conformist and anti-feminist message, which Alcott probably disliked, but she wrote it to cater to public tastes. (This reading seems mainly to come from critics who dislike the book.)

Little Women is about Jo's struggle to stay true to herself in a world that wants to change her. She struggles with whether to stay a tomboy or become a proper lady, whether or not to marry Laurie despite not loving him romantically, and as an author, whether to write what she wants, write what earns the most money, or give up her writing altogether. In the end, she changes only in ways that make her happy, e.g. by learning to control her temper, and later by embracing romantic love. But in more important ways, she stays true to herself: always remaining slightly rugged, clumsy and "masculine," finding success as a writer, and marrying Friedrich, a man just as plain and "unromantic" as herself, but whom she loves and who respects her as an equal.

Little Women is about learning to "live for others." That phrase is used often and could well be the arc words. Beth is the only March sister to whom a selfless life comes naturally, but the other three master it by the end of the story (as does Laurie). They learn to conquer their moments of pettiness and selfishness, to live in better harmony with each other and with their friends and love interests, and to give up their self-centered dreams of fame and wealth, building lives that focus on service instead.

Little Women is about growing up. The first half is mainly about the March girls' maturing by surviving hard times and learning to be better people, while the second half is about reaching adulthood and bittersweetly parting ways to start new lives. At the beginning, Jo is a girl who doesn't want to grow up: she wants to always be a wild young tomboy with her family (and Laurie) by her side forever. But of course, she can't stop time or womanhood, and is eventually forced to accept the loss of Meg, Amy, and Laurie to marriage and Beth to death. After grieving for a while, she lets go of her old life and willingly builds a new one with Friedrich.

Little Women is about family bonds and the fear of losing them. We meet and become attached to the wonderfully close, cozy March family, which gradually expands through friendships, marriage, and new babies. But throughout the story, the family is in danger of breaking apart, whether due to conflict (Jo and Amy's sibling rivalry, Meg and John's marital problems), or separation by distance (Father going away to war, Amy going to Europe, Jo to New York), or death (the danger of losing Father and Beth in Part I, and the ultimate loss of Beth in Part II). But in the end – unlike in reading #4 above – the family doesn't break apart and never will. Conflicts are resolved, travelers eventually come home, the surviving family members always live near each other and stay as close as ever, and even Beth isn't really gone, because her memory and influence live on.

Little Women is about femininity and each March sister's relationship with it. Meg and Amy happily conform in different ways: Meg to "domestic femininity" as a housewife, Amy to "ornamental femininity" as a society lady. Beth pressures herself to conform to self-effacing domestic femininity, until sadly, it kills her – either because she's too selfless and nurturing when she cares for the fever-infected Hummels, or because she has anorexia, as Lizzie Alcott might have had. But Jo strikes a successful balance in the end, conforming just enough to fit into society, but only on her own terms, and otherwise living a happily unconventional life as a writer and schoolmistress.

Little Women is about Jo's unlearning of internalized misogyny. At the beginning, she's a "Not Like Other Girls" tomboy, who wishes she were male, disdains feminine girls (especially her sister Amy), doesn't care enough when "her boy" Laurie behaves badly toward women, and is afraid to be vulnerable. But gradually, and without losing her strength of character, she learns to embrace the sweeter and more tender aspects of herself, sees that Amy's ladylike manners have practical benefits, and learns to say "no" to Laurie when he turns his childish, unhealthy romantic attentions to her. Then after Beth dies, she realizes how precious Beth's utterly domestic, feminine life was, and embraces a more domestic life herself. Yet by doing so, she becomes a true feminist, as she enters an egalitarian marriage and devotes her life to teaching boys to be good, respectful men.

Little Women is only what US Americans know as the first half. It's just about the March sisters getting by and learning moral lessons over the course of the year their father is away at war. Nobody gets married and nobody dies. Everything else is in Good Wives, which is a sequel with different character arcs and different themes, and which should be published separately, as it originally was and still is outside the US. Trying to tie them together into one narrative never feels quite right.

Little Women is Alcott's idealized version of her own life and family, where no one suffers quite as much as they did in real life, everyone is slightly less flawed, and Jo ends up happily married to a man very much like Alcott's lost love Henry David Thoreau. She wrote the life she wished she had.

Little Women is just a semi-autobiographical slice-of-life that Alcott wrote quickly for money.

Which is the truest to Alcott's intent? I don't know. But while some of these readings I like better than others – and some of them I despise – I'd say they're all understandable and reasonably valid. Some aren't even mutually exclusive, but can be used together... although of course, other readings are mutually exclusive, like whether the story is feminist or anti-feminist, or whether the March family ultimately breaks apart or holds together. And they're all worth using as springboards for discussion.

Alcott wrote more books than she ever realized she did, because Little Women can be many different books to different people.

@littlewomenpodcast, @joandfriedrich, @thatscarletflycatcher, @fictionadventurer, @fandomsarefamily1966

[satorisoup]

ᰔ A KISS FOR A KISS ft. kenma kozume

ʚ CW : first kisses. sfw.

ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ

it’s valentine’s day, a holiday for the celebration of love, and today your boyfriend only had one thing in mind.

he was going to kiss you.

it has been almost 8 months since you and kenma kozume had become official, and you still have yet to get to first base. kenma curses himself for the awkward timid personality he was given since birth, as it really would not come in handy when it came to the physical part of a relationship.

kenma never would have thought he would be the one wanting to initiate a kiss with you, but at this point, he really couldn’t help it. every time your hands would come to stroke his hair with that sweet, small smile on your face, or the hugs you would envelope him in whenever you had him in your sight, even the nervous blush on your cheeks when you would lace your fingers with his, all of it had him in a battle with his own desires, to just lean in and leave a little peck on the soft lips that adorned your lovely face. but no, it never seemed like the right time, or the right place, it just didn’t feel in character for him to do that out of the blue.

today, this changes. february 14th, kenma was going to kiss you before the sun set to bring another day. and he swore, he would die before he allowed himself to wimp out again. there’s no room for shyness.

the first half of school had rolled around, and kenma had surprisingly held your hand in the halls, which was more-so unlike him given how usually uncomfortable he is with pda. you shook it off though, given it was an important holiday for you two, and perhaps he just wanted to make it all the more special, to which you were extremely grateful.

no, this wouldn’t be the time to kiss you. it was too early in the day. he should wait until it’s less crowded and he’s more prepared.

kenma waved at you when you had walked into your class, a soft mumble of “see you at lunch.” you smile and hold a thumbs up before you make your way to your seat, kenma walking off to his own classroom.

eventually lunchtime had come, and you both sat in a nice corner of the courtyard, pretty pink lunchbox with yummy foods sprawled out in front of you. you gingerly chewed on the small heart shaped sandwiches you had packed, and kenma ate along with you, hardly audible hums in appreciation while munched on one himself.

“do you like it, kenma? the heart cutters made them so much cuter!”

he nodded his head while he shortly answered, “yeah, they’re good.”.

well, he couldn’t kiss you now. you were both eating lunch, and that would be kind of gross for you to get the taste of mayonnaise after a kiss.

kenma’s procrastination eventually led to the school day ending, and he wants to punch himself in the gut for not taking the opportunities he had, wussing out for who knows how many times. you meet up with kenma by the school gates, voice cheery as you tell him how excited you were to spend time with him. you’re smiling, and kenma has the slightest hint of pink on the tips of his ears as he listens to you talk. though, he isn’t particularly paying attention to what your saying, but rather staring at your lips as if they’re holding the universe themselves.

there’s a brisk, cold breeze but the sun is shining like no other today. the walk along the path to kenma’s home is lit with golden yellow hues that beat down from the sky as the sun begins to slowly decend from the horizon. beams of light frame your face, voice blurred from his pure focus and kenma thinks that he might be living in a movie while he watches you, then your lips, you, and your lips again.

would now be a good time? there’s no one around. would you say yes? maybe you would run away. what if you got freaked out? how should he say it? should he just go all in and skip the romantics? no, it needs to be special. maybe he should wait-

no. he’s put this off for far too long. 8 months too long. and as his teammates would say, no matter how much he despised the word in its entirety, he needed to use some guts.

kenma starts to gather every ounce of backbone he possibly could have in his body, he had to do it now and there was no wimping out this time. he had a mission, and he was determined to actually accomplish it. he’s prepared enough, he thinks, when he turns to you to speak up for once in his quiet life.

“can i-“

“kenma, would you like some candy?”

he was hushed before he could get a full syllable out, putting a pause on his impulses to bob his head yes.

kenma observes you while you’re rummaging through your schoolbag, reaching in to a small pocket before pulling out a piece of hershey’s cherry kiss chocolate. your hand stretches out towards his opened one, and before you drop it into his awaiting palm, you pull back.

“well, you can have this candy, but on one condition… im offering you a trade!” you announce.

“uh… what is it?” kenma asks you, voice low and tone a hint of confusion.

your hand unravels once again to reveal the small chocolate kiss in the crevices of your hand, making a show of the small treat.

“a kiss…” you pause, and kenma can feel the anticipation build up within him while he waits for you to finish your offer.

“for a kiss.” you point at your lips with your index finger.

kenma can feel his insides combust into a million pieces, his calm, collected demeanor is slightly faltered with the way his eyes widen, dumbfounded while his heart beat quickens to a rapid pace.

he looks at you in silence, admiring the red blush on your face that’s so obvious, you could camouflage with a garden of tomatoes. you’re nervous, and even so, you’re smiling at him with that same precious grin, and the same pretty, pink lips that have practically screaming “kiss me!” in his ears all day.

“okay.”

before you’re able to register kenma’s compliance to your trade, he’s unable to keep himself back anymore. his hand awkwardly grabs hold of your wrist, candy dropped to the floor when he collides his lips with yours. they’re soft and cherried in flavor, he deems, reveling in the feeling he’s been waiting to experience for what seems like forever. he holds the small kiss for a few seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away. gone were the previous cowardly attempts and failed opportunities, because kenma finally finds the guts this time to ask,

“can i have another?”

and kenma knows, kuroo was never going to let him live this down.

[trainsinanime]

I'm not sure I have anything interesting to say about it, but I am very intrigued by the way The Locked Tomb portrays cavaliers, necromancers and lyctorhood as relationships.

First of all, Necromancer+Cavalier is a metaphor for marriage, that's obvious table stakes. It's explicitly non-romantic (or should be, anyway, in the way the society there has constructed it), but it is intense, highly devoted, starts with a vow, goes "til death do us part" ("one flesh, one end").

In the series Cavalier and Necromancer are a form of gender roles, and they map incredibly well onto the most stereotypical gender roles we have in our society. The Cavalier has stereotypical masculine traits: The fighter, the protector, up on the front lines, physically active. The Necromancer has stereotypical feminine traits: Weak, frail, but whatever the necromantic equivalent of nurturing is, with power over death and life. In the mythology and "gender roles" of the nine houses, necromancy is sort of not quite but still a bit equivalent to "the mystical power of women to bring forth life". And yes, this is all very conservative and cishet-normative and so on.

Of course the books then immediately, from moment one, subvert this on at least three different layers.

The first layer is that the feminine-coded Necromancer is the head of the deadly family in the society, and the masculine-coded Cavalier is the support, the disposable one.

The other layer is that the book distributes the roles of Necromancer and Cavalier basically randomly across the actual genders of the characters. There are male necromancers, female cavaliers, plenty of same-sex pairings and so on.

But the biggest and most important inversion is that when we first meet the nine houses, ten thousand years after a cow-murdering Twitch streamer destroyed the world, nobody actually follows that role assignment to the letter. All the different houses have very different ideas of how Necromancer and Cavalier works in practice.

For example, Abigail Pent and Magnus Quinn are just straight-up married. Their work relationship is romantic, and while that's considered a bit weird by their society, it makes it clear that it can go on like this.

We are actually told that there was something going on in the second house, too, where Judith fell in love with Marta, but there she was gently rebuked and they were just friends instead.

Over in the sixth, Camilla and Palamedes have the inversion of boy necromancer and girl cavalier, but most importantly they have their own very QPR style of relationship that is unique to them and does not fit into either our society's traditional idea of romantic relationship, nor their society's traditional idea of what Necromancer and Cavalier should be like.

The seventh house leans into the frail necromancer/strong protector idea the most, except for [spoilers for the final third of Gideon].

The eighth house leans fully into the idea that the relationship is one-sided, that the cavalier is disposable, and jumps straight off the deep end by making the cavalier genetically bred to be nothing more than a power source.

The third house I've left out so far because, dear god, what even is going on there?

And finally, of course, the ninth, who are technically, strictly speaking, if we're following the metaphor to its logical end, doing a "fake married to lovers" plot.

So with that out of the way, let's look at Lyctorhood. Lyctorhood is fundamentally the final test, the final form of the Necromancer/Cavalier relationship as embedded in that society: The Cavalier has completely dissolved in the marriage, making their "spouse" all-powerful, but ending their own existence. That's the standard of the society as presented to the characters when they discover it, and all of them very quickly have their own ideas about it..

Most characters we know from Canaan House don't actually get that far (and to be fair, I think many of them would not have anything that interesting to say about it), but the ones who do are interesting:

Ianthe is physically repulsed by the idea of healthy relationships, so she has no problem eating Babs for power.

Gideon and Harrow are deeply in love, deeply devoted to each other, and deeply dysfunctional in their own ways, and Harrow manages to find a way to continue a dysfunctional horrible situationship with massive communication issues into Lyctorhood.

Cam and Pal find a different thing entirely, still recognisable as a take on Lyctorhood but also not at all. Instead of one absorbing the other, they fuse into a single new person together, but also in some ways dying in the process.

And it turns out even the older lyctors may not have worked quite as originally designed, with Pyrrha Dve still hanging around in Gideon the First and then finding her own way in Nona the Ninth. Throughout Nona it becomes obvious what was hinted at throughout most of Harrow: Lyctorhood is really just one of many ways for two people to become one. It is not the purest and best form of "one flesh, one end", just the best Johnny Boy could think of. Left to their own devices, we see people left and right figure out new ways to be together as one regardless of what society and God thinks of them.

This is really a key question of the book series: What does it mean for two people to become one? Well, it's up to them, and listening to what God has to say about it is probably not the best way to go. It'll make you end up like Ianthe. Do you want to be Ianthe? Actually don't answer that.

[tosahobi-if]

GAME OUT NOW

Misfortune begets misfortune; evil will prey upon itself. Just as how the fox cannot live without the rabbit, the predator must understand what rises will fall.

Long before you were born, the Great Calamity, a calculated effort by Magyo cultists nearly wiped out the entirety of the Jungpa sects. If not for the noble sacrifice of the peerless Sword Saint of the Mount Hua Sect: the Divine Blade, Yeo Jinhu, demonic forces would have rent the heavens and the earth asunder.

Despite his triumph, nothing would ever be the same – the losses were staggering, the task of rebuilding the sects to their former glory seemed to prove an insurmountable challenge. Yet nearly two decades after his death, peace returned to the land once more.

After the death of your parents, you lead an ordinary, if not monotonous, life as the playmate of the spoiled young master of the Mount Hua Sect. However, all is not what it seems. Following the mysterious arrival of an amnesiac with strange abilities, whispers of a plot brewing in the shadows start to surface, and the world as you know it begins to fall apart around your feet.

Suddenly confronted with the uncertainty of the future, you must unravel the tragedy of what truly conspired all those years ago before you risk losing all you hold dear.

tosahobi (18+) is a muhyeop choose-your-own adventure game centered around elements of korean folklore and taoism in a tale of family, grief, and heritage.

play as a customizable main character: choose their physical appearance, gender, pronouns, sexuality, and more.

explore different relationships: from platonic to romantic to familial, build a variety of relationships with the cast (and hopefully make more friends than you do enemies.)

choose from different skill sets: pick between medicine, weaponry, tactics, and hand-to-hand combat. each field comes with its own advantages and disadvantages that affect multiple scenarios as the story progresses.

choice-driven story: with several routes and (many) choices, fail or succeed and find your way to an ending (whether it be happy or not.)

something is incredibly wrong: can you feel it too?

THE YOUNG MASTER

Yeo Jinwol of the Mount Hua Sect, is the youngest son of the sect leader. Contrary to his charming public demeanor, he has a childish side and can be extraordinarily stubborn. Having grown up in the shadow of his elder brothers he is fiercely protective of those he considers precious to him and struggles to measure up to the expectations placed on his shoulders. Assigned his playmate at a young age, whether you consider it fortuitous or not the two of you have been stuck together for years.

THE ENIGMA

Yul is your sajae, a disciple under the same master as you. Despite their amnesia, they're preternaturally talented at whatever they set their mind to. With strange yet unexplainable abilities that seem to stretch far beyond the scope of their powers, their missing memories may be the key to unlocking the answers you seek. Reclusive yet dedicated you'd almost think they were far, far older than their age if not for their intense sweet tooth and their tendency to follow you around like a very clingy second shadow.

THE PRODIGY

Baek Iseul, the Frozen Blade, is the rising star Emei Sect and has long been hailed as the next Sword Saint. Contrary to her cheerful personality you've never met anyone with a sharper gaze before. Hailing from obscurity, her power rivals even those who have trained for years and years, and has amassed an ever-growing collection of heroic feats under her belt. Popular and well-liked with a mischievous streak, you're really not sure why someone with such a promising future has taken a liking to you.

???

if to transcend means to leave the world behind, bind me to the soil so even long after my death, long after my body has turned to dust, i can find you once more.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: How They Propose

Requested: Hii Can I request with the boys x reader with how they'd propose? - @ghostlyaccurate

A/N: I love this request! Thank you for sending it in!!! This was so sweet to picture! I hope I've gotten every character Right!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher doesn't exactly propose. He does, in a way, but it's not romantic or grand. You're half asleep, curled into a ball on your side of the bed. He lays beside you, smoking, when he starts talking. You only start listening halfway through, half-asleep, when you realize what he's trying to say. He loves you. A lot. And since the world is ending, and since he's not doing well, and since he's wanted to do this from the moment he met you, would you want to marry him? You sit up, asking him to say it again, thinking you're still dreaming. Butcher leans over and gets the box from his nightstand. He hands it to you, too afraid to look you in the eye. Will you marry me? He asks again. The ring is perfect, not that it really matters. You have your answer immediately. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!

Hughie proposes, it's just not to you. The shape shifter says yes for you. They love it! The ring is beautiful. Hughie is ecstatic. He tells everyone. It isn't until you're trying to kill them do you find the ring on their finger. You're not mad. He had no idea it was them and not you. Still, you're hurt. This major part of your life, your relationship, and you weren't there for it. Hughie wants a redo, he tells you he can always do it again, and though you know it would make him feel better, it wouldn't make you feel better. You ask him, more than you should, if he wants to marry *you* and every time he tells you how much he loves you, how much he cares about you, what he loves about you, not them, not the shape shifter. He gives you over a dozen reasons why he wants to marry you, not them. He feels awful that he didn't realize you weren't you sooner. This was supposed to be a special moment and instead it was ruined.

Annie has had this proposal planned forever. She hid the ring deep in her closet where she was sure you'd never find it. When she knows you're working late one night, she gathers candles and flowers, placing them all around the apartment. When you get home, for a split second, you fear you've missed a major holiday or anniversary. Seeing the panic on your face, she reassures you you didn't forget anything. She's had this big speech planned about how much she loves you and how kind you are and strong and smart, and she gets about a third of the way through, before you blurt out a yes! You apologize, letting her finish, and she's completely relieved that you said yes. She slips the ring on your finger, unable to contain her happiness. After everything you've been through, everything you've faced together, something good has finally come out of it.

M.M. comes to a realization after his major panic attack that life is short and if Homelander is going to kill them all, he'd like to die as your husband instead of your boyfriend. He's had the ring for a while, but this scare is what puts the plan into motion. There's never a right time. It seems like when he works up the courage, something happens, the plan falls apart, and he has to put the ring back in his pocket. Finally, when you're hiding away while Neuman gets exposed and Singer needs protection, he asks you in front of everyone. Maybe it's not the best time, he's quick to say that, but if something were to happen, he wants to at least be your fiance. You can't believe it. You certainly weren't expecting it. Of course you say yes. When the time comes to split up, you and Marvin plan on getting married somewhere far away, preferably warm with unlimited cocktails.

Frenchie waits until it's life and death. Samer injected you with the virus and the only way to stop it is by cutting off your leg. It's excruciating. He needs something to distract you and this is the perfect (imperfect) opportunity. He hands you the ring, saw in hand, and asks you to marry him. You're so stunned, so shocked, so full of adrenaline, you can't feel anything. Frenchie, what are you saying? He only lets himself smile for a second before continuing to cut. I want to marry you, mon coeur. Is it really that silly? Yes! To both! When you're finally okay and your limb is growing back, you ask him if he's serious. You don't want him to ask you just because he thought you were going to die. He makes sure you understand he's wanted to marry you forever, it just took that extra nudge to get the courage to ask you. He wants to marry you, he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. He always has.

Kimiko doesn't want to make a big deal about it. She doesn't want to risk being rejected in front of everyone, not that you would, but she has this fear. She waits until the group splits up, saying their goodbyes, when you're in the car together. She gives you this big long speech about how you taught her to love and trust again, that you showed her what friendship and partnership look like. It's so long, in fact, you get lost and ask her, nicely, to get to the point. Will you marry me? She signs, an embarrassed smile spreading across her face. You stop the car, wanting to give her your full attention. Are you asking me if I- Want to marry me? She finishes. She doesn't have a ring or anything, but you don't need one. Your face hurts from smiling so much. Are you serious? She nods. Yes! Yes, I would love to marry you. She leans across the passenger seat and kisses you.