#so endearing and so gentle but passionate at the same time i really like em

[costellos]

a/n: I’ve been reminiscing on a lot of cheesy romcoms and one of my favorite tropes are “dates that aren’t officially dates but basically are dates.” we love a good yearning. that said, here are some #unofficialofficialdates that the boys use to spend time with you!

tw: mentions of drugs

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang & what excuses they use to get closer to you!

bruno bucciarati.

Bucciarati gets closer to you by having you assist him at “fundraisers.” 

Passione holds a handful of events throughout the year. elaborate parties with expensive champagne, mindless chatter, and some very high-profile attendees. people will join to officialize deals, buy drugs, and of course, donate to keep Passione thriving.

Bucciarati usually goes alone, acting as a representative for his escort team. this isn’t the type of scene you’d see the others at. but up until your joining, you’ve found yourself as his sole companion.

it began as a way to familiarize yourself with mobster life. his idea, of course. although he didn’t push the idea, he’d be lying if he said he hoped you would accept. ↳ “it’s not required, but the company would be nice.”

it’s an odd affair. celebrities and politicians join and no one blinks an eye. it’s not where you’d usually find yourself on a Saturday night, with you and your partner dressed to the nines (okay, maybe not a usual scene for you; Bucciarati always had something beautiful draped onto his figure).

the hors d'oeuvres and cocktails are nice, at least. but you find yourself drawn to your conversations with Bucciarati the most.

he makes you feel welcome at every event, that you deserve to be here as much as the starlet making her grand appearance. you’re unsure that you can handle business with new clients, but the way he talks to you is so reassuring and supportive that you quickly help the gang obtain new patrons.

you can’t help but notice that his speech became more casual after the first outing. he’s a fan of crude jokes and local gossip, you find. but you also notice the hand at your hip as he guides you to every following fundraiser. if you look at him while he he does so, he’d send a the kindest grin. ↳ “see? you’re a natural. we need to work on your eye contact, though. clients respond better when they see those pretty eyes look back at them.”

that shameless flirtation came out after your fifth fundraiser. by that point, Bucciarati made less of an effort to hide his attraction toward you. all the other patrons thought you to be a couple. why not play the part? besides, he finds your embarrassment endearing. cute, even. he’s already planning ways to make this night last longer.

leone abbacchio.

Abbacchio gets closer to you by helping you get ready for your missions.

you’re typically the first choice for espionage missions. the way you slip into parties, meetings, anything without anyone noticing is impressive, to say the least. but only part of that is thanks to your own abilities. Abbacchio does a lot of the heavy lifting behind the scenes.

it started when he noticed your god awful attempt at masquerade makeup. your contouring left much to be desired. ↳ “...please don’t tell me you’re actually going out like that.”

and so began a tradition of sorts. you usually meet him at his apartment, considering that’s where all his tools are. it was awkward at first; Abbacchio isn’t the best conversationalist, but he did try to seem somewhat engaged in whatever you had to say.

with time, however, it became easier. less awkward. Abbacchio shares whatever wine (and gossip) he has at his disposal that week. you find that his humor can be quite dry once you melt through that icy exterior. and with more time, you start to notice the tiniest smiles when you pop by.

he’s also less fussy when you ask him to do your makeup. before he would roll his eyes and ask when you were next available, but now... he just says to come by that Friday night. not without some minor teasing, though you found that to be a part of his charm. (plus, the fact you were breaking through to him was exciting in itself.)

he’s incredibly gentle when he does your makeup. he always holds your chin as he dabs liquid foundation onto your face, his hand moving your head for those hard-to-reach areas. when he does your eyeshadow, you can feel that same hand cup your cheek to keep you steady. though intimate, it’s not uncomfortable.

whenever he caught you staring at him, Abbacchio would ask what you were looking at. recently, however, you’ve noticed he merely purses his lips, swallows, and looks away. ↳ “huh. would’ve never known you could look so stunning. you’re welcome.”

his rude teasing made its appearance after eight visits. it’s an awful attempt to deny his feelings. maybe you’ll back off if he’s mean enough. but the way you smile at him after every session, how you shamelessly compliment him... he can’t help himself. he has to get closer to you in any way that he can.

giorno giovanna.

Giorno gets closer to you by asking you to help him with his hair.

you’d often watch girls fawn over Giorno whenever you went on patrols with him. and it’s warranted: his chiseled cheekbones, long lashes, and defined physique had him rival the Roman statues that lined Naples. everything about him is a piece of art. including his hair. 

you caught him struggling to braid his hair shortly before your next patrol. strands would be thicker than others, and in one case, you watched as his hair tie snapped between his fingers. he obviously needed help. ↳ “well, if you’re offering. be my guest.”

so you got to work. it wasn’t a big deal; part of the issue was that Giorno couldn’t see the back of his head. you separated his hair into three strands, weaved them between each other, and tied the ends of his hair into a loop. just as you’d always seen him do it.

but once you finished, Giorno was hooked. the way your fingernails dragged along his scalp, how you were so careful to not pull his hair... it was wonderful. such a small action that felt so personal to him.

he asks you to help him with his hair whenever he can. not too frequently that you’d catch on, though. and he knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t deny his request. you’re far too kind. it’s a little manipulative on his end, but he’s also aware that you wouldn’t mind.

it never feels awkward. he asks you about your day while you work. sometimes he gives you a briefing about what’s on the agenda. though it seems casual on your end, as mentioned, Giorno finds the experience quite intimate. ↳ “I don’t know what it is, but something about your touch is enough to make me feel so relaxed. ...ah, excuse me. was that too forward?”

that statement comes out after you’ve braided Giorno’s hair ten times. by that point, you’ve started to think that he doesn’t really need help with his hair. the fact that he’s started producing flowers to put in your own hair was a dead giveaway. but can you blame him? he loves seeing you blush as he tucks daisies behind your ear.

guido mista.

Mista gets closer to you by showing you his favorite quick eats.

as a long-standing resident of Naples, the gunslinger is aware of all the best restaurants in the city. from hole-in-the walls to elegant restaurants, he knows ‘em all. he has a particular soft spot for the former.

you’re the opposite of him: new to Naples and unaware of what foods await you. Mista takes it upon himself to change that. ↳ “you’ve never heard of Sorbillo and you’ve been living here for how long? ...alright, well. we’re gonna change that. you and me, Sorbillo, this Saturday.”

and thus a new tradition began. whenever you and Mista had a free Saturday night, you’d meet at whatever restaurant he recommended that week. sometimes it was seafood, other nights it was pizza, but it was always something extremely delicious (and extremely unforgettable).

he caters his choices to what you’re in the mood for. Mista’s not a picky eater by any means (so long as it’s not in fours), so he’s down for whatever you want. plus, it lets him get to know your tastes a little better.

he’s a great conversationalist. he can keep you distracted from long lines and longer food prep times. you never get the impression that he’s just making small talk, because honestly, he’s not. he genuinely wants to get to know you better. he usually asks about your life before Passione. 

your weekly outings originally started as a fun hangout between two friends. but during one chilly night, Mista was quick to notice your shivering. he wasted no time in giving you his coat and hat. ↳ “hey, you don’t ever get... I dunno... bored of this, do you? I know we’ve been doing this for a while and... if you ever wanna stop, you can let me know.”

that question came up after your seventh outing. you’d never seen the gunslinger get embarrassed like this. it only comes up because Mista’s realizing how much he loves being around you. he loves when your eyes widen as you take that first bite, he loves when muse how good the food is. he needs to know where you stand before he gets too invested because honestly, he’s starting to love you as well.

narancia ghirga.

Narancia gets closer to you by asking you to help him read. 

Fugo’s not the best tutor. bless him, he tries, but Narancia isn’t the best student either. the latter often spaces out while working. and when he doesn’t, he tries to distract Fugo with some meaningless chatter to end the session sooner. Fugo was quick to catch onto this.

as a result, he turned to you to tutor Narancia. it started as a joke. “if [Name] can’t do it, no one can,” he laughed. the pupil, however, was more than happy to switch tutors. ↳ “fine! [Name]’ll be a better teacher than you ever were!!”

and like that, you were Narancia’s new tutor. not that you minded. it would benefit the whole team if he could read above a primary school level. every Tuesday and Thursday, an hour before the gang’s meetings at Libeccio, you and Narancia would grab a table and go over his reading material. sometimes Fugo joins to watch Narancia’s progress, sometimes Mista to hang out and enjoy a slice of cake, but it’s normally a one-on-one lesson.

Narancia quickly realizes that he likes those lessons best. it’s much easier when the others aren’t teasing him for his inability to read words like “signorile.” plus, he likes his time alone with you. you don’t laugh. you never judge him. if he has a question, he doesn’t feel stupid to come to you about it, even outside of tutoring sessions.

he’s still distracted when he’s with you, but half the time it’s intentional, half the time it’s not. he just wants to learn more about you. he’ll take breaks between questions to ask you about yourself. Narancia usually sticks to questions regarding your hobbies and interests. lord help you if you share the same music taste because he’ll want to share all his favorite tunes with you.

lately he’s been quite diligent with his work. he’ll go a chapter ahead of what you’ve scheduled and... oh my, are those annotations? you’d never seen him smile brighter than when you praised him for his hard work. ↳ “what are we gonna do once my reading is like... really good? we’re not just gonna stop, are we?”

he asks you this after your fourth session. the question came up rather early, honestly. but Narancia was already having a lot of fun after working with you. he knew that this was going to be something worth his time. and when he saw your own smile, he knew that you were worth everything, too. 

pannacotta fugo.

Fugo gets closer to you by requesting your help planning missions.

most of the gang’s missions are planned by Fugo himself. while he is a college dropout, he still spent hundreds of hours studying Italian history and law. he can be trusted to help the escort team avoid law enforcement.

but there was one job he couldn’t wrap his head around. it was a breaking-and-entering mission meant for Bucciarati and Narancia. they were supposed to cross through an Armani outlet, yet... the security was fool proof. there was no way to cleanly get through it, even with Bucciarati’s Sticky Fingers. that was when you came in and proved him wrong. ↳ “[Name], would you mind helping me with this next mission? it’s a reconnaissance job for Abbacchio.”

he started coming to you whenever he felt stuck. you’re one of the few people he trusts with a task as important as this one. besides, you’d already proved that you were more than capable to untangle tough situations.

working with you is a mixed bag, though. sure, you help Fugo resolve his questions, but you make him feel so... small. it’s not that you do it on purpose. it’s just that being smart is all that he has. it’s all he’s ever known. and here you come, making these problems seem like they were nothing.

yet he can’t get enough of you. you don’t make it seem like these things are a big deal. he loves when you place your hand on his arm and praise him when he figures it out himself. god, he hates that he can’t look you in the eye; he can only imagine how lovely you look when you’re glowing.

there’s one moment that will stick with you forever. it was an infiltration mission meant for the whole team, the eleventh job you’d worked on with him. it took hours of back-and-forth bantering, Fugo having to leave the room to go scream outside, and one of Narancia’s awful energy drinks until Fugo figured it out. and when he did, you’ll never forget how he was beaming, his fingers laced with yours as he thanked you for your help. it’s too bad it didn’t last that long, for he quickly became embarrassed and turned away. ↳ “[Name]! I have another mission to work on with you! when are you free?”

Fugo saw you as his planning partner after that occurrence. he came to you with every mission he received; after all, he needs you to make sure that there aren’t any holes. he wants to chase every high he can with you. hell, every low if you’ll let him. he wants to do everything and more with you.

[dourpeep]

So like, whose your favorite chars and ships and roles? *rolls all over your blog* I know you like albedo, as you should, but I feel like your big brain hides hidden potential of reasons

Ehe I have a lot to say and a lot of people to go through so...most will be under the cut. Like this is really just going to be me going on about what I like about a bunch of characters.

My works are a love letter to the characters nodnod y'know that quote--

Oh!! Okay okay uhhh here's a few of my faves and reasons:

Albedo:

There's a lot of similar interests-! Also being an alchemist/scientist is my dream.

His personality is very sweet and his interactions with others (like during the Golden Apple Archipelago) are hilarious and endearing. Like...the whole slipping away while Diluc and Kaeya were bickering? His little comment hinting that he had to yell at them while riding Dvalin due to the wind and their volume? Then every interaction with Klee (including his character trailer) are so wholesome uuuuu

Albedo, my beloved-

His outfit!! I want to get Albedo cosplay just for the jacket

Also his movements, attack wise, are very polished and clean-cut! It's pretty obvious that his style is similar to that of fencing, but then you also see that he often will condense his sword into pure geo or thrust it out in a burst of gold!! And his Q???? He snaps and then his burst just---bursts fourth out of the ground???

Man's skilled.

And then ehe...I just really am into the archetype of a smart, gentle, yet modest person and he fits that bill perfectly.

I can't wait to see more about him! We know such a small amount about him since his character story was intertwined w/ introducing Dragonspine and also more about him testing the Traveler--also we didn't get to play as him during it :<<

Xiao

He is a very gentle character who's been through so much and I admire his ambition and willingness and selflessness

I really like his attacks, too--the fluidity of his movements that ties in with his backstory and just his personality in general

I also want his outfit

There's just something about his character that is incredibly appealing--you see him at his worst with the Karmic Debt, the rawness of his personality due to his blunt way of speaking and the earnestness that he displays

Lots of quiet protection nodnod. You have to talk to one of the NPCs to find this out, but he helped a little girl get her doll back after it'd been taken by Hilichurls. He didn't have to do it because it's not something that people would consider important, but his duty extends beyond that. If he can help it, he will lend a hand

Also the interactions we have?? Like when he saves Traveler (the subtle shift of his grip on their hand, a little offer of stability) and then in Moonchase now?? *chef's kiss*

Xinyan

I LOVE HER

First off, she's a rockstar who's taken something and made it entirely her own?? Her guitar is of her own design too!! It's made to work with her pyro vision!!! Like how cool is that????

Her personality is strong, down to earth--ugh man she's so cool

I want to be friends with her so bad

She's absolutely strong-I personally built her as a phys dps so her shield doesn't really do much but man does she carry. If none of the boys can handle the job, I swap her in and she sweeps the field clean. Those mobs never stood a chance nodnod

Her aesthetic!! I also want her outfit. I want everyone's outfit.

While her en voice got a lot of questions/hate, I love it. I can't help but feel pumped up and ready when I use her skill and burst and she shouts out "Time to rock!!"

Her dedication to her music and unyielding determination to get her name out there is incredible, I can't help but admire her passion for music.

I just really love music, even if I'm trained more for classical + operatic ehe rock's actually my favorite genre so it's all the more better!

Xingqiu

Ah! The first time I saw him I immediately decided that I'd adopt him on the spot nodnod kinda like having a kid brother, y'know?? I think we'd get along well

Also the fact that he's a bookworm??? Again, I gravitate towards people who are considered smart--no matter what it's about! You could be incredibly knowledgeable about snails and only that and I will listen to you go on and on

He's a prankster! Poor Chongyun, being the butt of most of his jokes and all.

But like his character is really cute and I had a lot of fun listening to all his voicelines--there's a lot of funny stuff going on with him like his dislike for carrots, his handwriting-- but then he's also dedicated to his martial arts and helping others no matter the task! Very chivalrous indeed nodnod

A few of my other favorites are: Beidou, Kazuha, Scaramouche (it's a love hate)

Moving onnnn!!

I'll do roles first :DD

My favorite to play, hands down, are full on DPS and Support/DPS. Xiao, Kazuha, Albedo, Xinyan, Kaeya-- there's a lot but these are the peeps that I have, am currently, or would main.

I started off as a hybrid Kaeya main (some phys, some elemental), then Xiao's been my main DPS since!

Kazuha is incredible in tandem w/ Xiao because of his cc as well as his em buffs nodnod. Also Kazuha is just really fun to play in general.

Ngl, I think that getting and playing Xiao basically ruined all other characters for me because you can pry his attacks and burst plunging (very fun) out of my cold, dead hands (/j). The quickness of his attacks and playstyle--lots of poking w/ spear and then dodge + attack at the same time with his skill. 10/10 very fun, absolutely love.

As for support/DPS, this is more fun to do in co-op ehe. I usually end up playing Kazuha, Raiden (her skill gives all party members that passive extra electro dmg whenever you land a hit) or another elemental-based character--

That being said, elemental damage, when paired up to procc reactions is ugh sooo good.

Ships!!

I saved this for last because I know it's not everyone's cup of tea ehe. After all, I'm an x Reader blog!

But that being said--

I like the idea of XiaoVen, but I prefer KazuXiao because I feel like they'd work better together--this kinda goes over why. There'd be a lot of respect between the two.

Though, XiaoVen is really cute because they have complimenting personalities nodnod. Also froggie hat. And the idea of Venti being the one to play the flute that helped Xiao.

BeigGuang!!! Their dynamic is hilarious--not to mention that they do get along well but just so happen to butt heads often because their views are so wildly different-

YanTao! I feel that they'd be really cute together! Also Yanfei would probably make sure that Hu Tao stays out of trouble ehe...

XingYun! Very cute and wholesome--platonic or romantic, either way. The fact that they have matching friendship tassels?? Xingqiu seeking Chongyun out to read to him? OTL

I don't have any NOTPs, at least among the popular ships but I do get a little icky about AlbeRose because of some...unsavory experiences due to someone who overstepped. So ehe. We'll not talk about that.

But like Sucrose is really cute! I love her character and she's very sweet and the excitement that she shows with her research is something I relate to heavily! It's just--ahh the ship itself was ruined for me.

[szivtalan]

character ask: kagami, momoi, alex and himuro 👀👀👀

!!! omg thank u Ceru! u might be one of my favorite mutuals <33 (putting this under a read more just so I can speak at lengths about each individual character)

Why I like Kagami: this is where I sarcastically ask “why DON’T i like him” but that’s literally the next question so; he’s everything i want to be and more. He has the determination and the willpower to make his own dreams come true, he’s gay as shit, he’s tall and buff and well-adjusted, mature enough to live on his own at an annoyingly young age, he’s funny and dumb and a total himbo as well as an excellent advisor bc of how grounded he is.

Why I don’t: I’m... not really good with explosive people. Violent men with loud voices especially scare me, and I’d think I’d flinch around him a lot and that would make me rlly anxious.

Favorite episode: it’s a toss-up between the Seirin fam visiting his place for the first time (is it where Kuroko confesses his love to him and then passes out in his arms? idk), and the onsen episode. I also loved all his plays against Kise and Aomine. AND the training camp w him running a lot in the sand.

Favorite season/movie: season 2 probably because he’s not a jerk anymore, but he’s still on his way to shed off any asshole behavior stuck to him. And I actually liked Last Game?

Favorite line: “There’s no such thing as useless effort.” and “This is our drama and we write the plot.” because he’s so ridiculous.

Favorite outfit: all of his casual fits... comfy but manly is my Jam

OTP: AoKaga....they’re truly soulmates, star-crossed lovers, canonically brought together by fate.

Brotp/otp no. 2: KagaKuro, I love them

Head Canon: I have several collections because I think too much about this boy, but here’s something I think about his family: he doesn’t know what happened to his mom. He never asked, because it wasn’t relevant, and he didn’t want to inconvenience his dad by questioning him. Occasionally, as a kid he felt like he was missing out on something (seeing other kids with their moms, feeling like they’re being treated with much more gentle care because they have moms), but as he grew older he realized that nurturing behavior shouldn’t have been limited to only a mother, and that he was just straight up neglected without any regards to missing a parent in his life.

Unpopular opinion: I never realized this was an unpopular opinion but I’m glad he went back to America at the end of Last Game. Obviously, it’s sad that he had to separate from the others, but I felt like Japanese basketball has always been just a stepping point to him, and now that he’d beat the best of them, it was time to move on. And it also warms my heart that him getting scouted in the US gave Aomine hope to aim big, too. I felt like both of them would’ve felt trapped in Japan with their skill sets.

A wish: I want him to be happy and gay and to confront Himuro and tell him how hurt he was by how he treated him and probably do the same to his dad too

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: ....whatever I’d say Shinsun has probably written it/will write it, but I don’t want him to forget about the GoM just because he becomes a world-famous athlete.

5 words to best describe them: sweet child with anger issues

My nickname for them: not mine (it’s Sypha’s) but “Kags”, Kagami, Tigerboy, Kagababe, Baby

Why I like Momoi: she is SO nurturing and sweet and she cares so much about her boys!! I’m sorry it always turns into “how they remind me of myself” but actually I get feeling like a background character and being the moral/emotional/physical support of those who are more talented or in any way better than you. I feel a strange kind of kinship with her and also,,, feminine girls make my heart stop, and it doesn’t get more feminine than Momoi. Added: Aomine aside, the Touou team wouldn’t worth shit without her skills tbh, and she’s not in any way less than the GoM. Also, I appreciate her being the one person to try to keep their friend group together.

Why I don’t: Analytical People Scare me like!! how do u know stuff people are Unknowable!! I usually am also irked by her pointing out Riko’s breast size but I can just pretend that’s in a gay way (maybe Momoi likes girls with small boobs and she’s just bad at flirting) (also I don’t exactly liked her calling Aomine a “ganguro” but I have too little knowledge on the use of this word to say exactly why)

Favorite episode (scene if movie): uh the one where Aomine made her cry? It really came through how much love she actually has for her friends at that one.

Favorite season/movie: she was great in all of them!!

Favorite line: I can’t remember the exact quote and Google isn’t really helpful either but the one where she made Kuroko promise they’ll always play together or something? Or that they’re gonna beat Aomine?? idk?

Favorite outfit: I like all of them but mostly I just appreciate her wearing so many hoodies, she looks so cute in them

OTP / Brotp: it’s both AoMomo. I feel like the have the most special and strongest bond in the entire series.

Head Canon: She’s never been shown to do, but I feel like she wears Aomine’s clothes a Lot. Also, they definitely have sleepovers To This Day.

Unpopular opinion: Momoi is good at basketball and she loves playing!!! But try being successful in it when ur opponents are Giants and Way More Buff than you are

A wish: I wish people appreciated her more!! Both in fandom and in canon. She’s an amazing person and she has her own skills and strengths that are rarely explored or even mentioned anywhere.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: her falling out with her boys ;-; I do not want that

5 words to best describe them: strawberry sweetheart to steal ur heart

My nickname for them: Satsuki :> I feel like it’s a little too much to call characters on their first names sometimes but hers is so cute I can’t

Why I like Alex: yet again another woman with an extensive skill set. I love her persistence and again I appreciate getting disillusioned and finding your way back to the thing you love. Also it’s just sweet that she did that by teaching (again, something I can relate to)

Why I don’t: the whole “kissing children” thing rubbed me the wrong way but again, just like Momoi’s obsession with comparing breast sizes, it’s just bad/sexist writing from Fujimaki probably

Favorite episode (scene if movie): adshg any and all where she expressed that Himuro and Kagami are equally important to her <33 that shit makes my heart burst

Favorite season/movie: she only appears towards the end of s2 and in s3 so... I guess s3?

Favorite line: its so Bad that u literally can’t find the iconic quotes of these iconic ladies anywhere but... her story on finding her passion again through teaching kids, and anytime she mentions her fondness of Kagami and Himuro.

Favorite outfit: her iconic olive green coat with the short red shorts... wtf was that I loved it.

OTP: she doesn’t really interact with people her age but I’ve heard she’s shipped with Masako Araki and I’ve seen some seriously good fanarts and like... Yes Good I’d Love To See It

Brotp: I feel like her and Himuro would be that sassy pair that Kagami tries and fails to contain and they get into all sorts of weird, absurd situations asdjs what I’m trying to say is Kagami has to bail them out of jail from time to time

Head Canon: fck me if I’m wrong but she’s the lesbian single mom of the two gay kids she reluctantly adopted from the streets

Unpopular opinion: it’s more like another headcanon, but she can dunk and she taught Kagami how to do it.

A wish: I’d love her to coach the Seirin fam more!! Pls let her be part of her children’s lives (she could also judge streetball games between the goms it would be fun)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: anything about her being romantically involved with her pupils makes me.................no

5 words to best describe them: Beautiful Beach Blonde Basketball....goddess

My nickname for them: Alex!! sometimes An Icon

Why I like Himuro: em dash Asdgsdj I’m joking, I’m becoming more and more fond of the boy. Once I realized that he shouldn’t have been the “bigger person” in that situation and one year doesn’t really mean much when you’re that young and that hurt, I realized he’s actually a good and hard-working kid and I’m sorry for giving him so much shade. Also I really like his snark and sass, but that might not even be canon at this point tbh

Why I don’t: I’m still sort of irked by him beating down on Kagami because he was envious/mad, but I realized the aspect of that situation that Really got to me was how devoted Kagami still was to him after all that. That devotion was what felt toxic, nothing that Himuro actually did to him.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): the time they met up w Kagami just to exchange a dramatic socially distancing bro fist and a few encouraging words.... gays be Like That

Favorite season/movie: I really didn’t mind s3 Himuro

Favorite line: apparently he’s said some iconic stuff that I don’t remember (and my sources don’t seem really legit) but I’m gonna say “let’s see you become number 1, bro” because again, that’s just so ridiculous and endearing. On one hand he really went from loathing Kagami to rooting for him and wanting him to reach his full potential and on the other, honey ur  like 17 stop speaking like That

Favorite outfit: his knitted V-neck sweaters and the black coat with the white fur.... boy’s got all the fashion sense that’s missing from Kagami

OTP: can I say.....AoHimu asdfh I ship 3/4 of these characters with Aomine what does that say about me

Brotp: KagaHimu. They can be sweet, but I’ve only ever seen Jake write them really well

Head Canon: I’ve been entertaining the idea of....trans Himuro.....

Unpopular opinion: everyone thinks that Kagami is the violent kid and Himuro is the chill, sweet child who’s somehow wound up with this mess of a fiery tiger, but it’s actually Himuro who taught Kagami how to fight and Kagami learned quite a lot of aggression from him

A wish: I feel like Himuro should’ve gotten a separate episode to explore his thoughts, feelings and past. He had so much potential as a character Is2g

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: him quitting basketball would fucking destroy me. I’d be devastated for others too, but it would really pull on my heartstrings if he just dropped the only thing he’s been so passionate about.

5 words to best describe them: gender-non-conforming emo child

My nickname for them: Himu, Tatsuya, Tatsu

[caelin-ismycity]

OH OH HEADCANNONS; ike is actually decent at singing; he just doesn't like anyone hearing it (marth has def heard tho) || during brawl, i feel like they wouldn't like each other at first. not enemies per se, but ike's disposition against royalty and marth's general uh... angst time via shadow dragon would give em a rougher start than most. || their favorite non-talking activity would be taking naps together! when one is tired, its hard to resist just cuddling... lemme kno if ya want more ;)

oh i’m ALWAYS down to hear more headcanons about my favorite boy/s

now excuse me while i add my own two cents on these lovely hcs because i’m weak

Ike’s Vocals:

-Ike is definitely a decent singer- growing up constantly being exposed to Elena’s lullaby (whether sung by his mom or by Mist), the tune would frequently get stuck in his head and he’d have little choice but to hum out the melody.

-He certainly isn’t as enchanting as Mist or Elena, but he isn’t bad either- it’s definitely an odd sight to most onlookers at seeing this stoic mercenary singing a lullaby to himself.

-He doesn’t particularly care if anyone catches him singing, but he experiences some form of self consciousness when he gets really into it and there are potential listeners, so he tries to save his humming/singing for himself alone

-Marth has only been exposed to Ike’s singing once and it was purely by accident. It was amidst after hours when Ike suspected most inhabitants to be at rest and he was feeling particularly sentimental about his parents. So while Ike paced around the empty halls, he would quietly sing to himself, unbeknownst to him Marth being but a few feet hiding behind a structure.

-When Ike concluded his song, Marth couldn’t restrain himself from complimenting Ike’s singing. Again, it wasn’t too superb, but Marth found it endearing that someone of Ike’s nature was able to find joy in something as gentle as singing.

-Of course, Ike would be initially shocked- not only had he suspected he was entirely alone, but he was caught by the prince of Altea himself nonetheless. And while Ike had long since gotten over treating Marth like a blue-blooded noble, the embarrassment was impossible to shake as Marth applauded him.

-From then on, Ike gradually became more comfortable to singing around people (though he wouldn’t do it any more frequently). From time to time, Marth would seek out Ike and ask him to sing the song again, finding it to be a lovely tune and enjoying hearing the song from Ike’s vocals.

Marth and Ike : Brawl Days

-The duo met during less-than-ideal circumstances: an army of self-destructive robots were determined to shroud their worlds in darkness, and alongside an armored gumball were forced to fight alongside each other.

-Marth was no stranger to mercenaries- during his own wars, he had come across the company and aid of quiet a few. Ike was certainly no exception in his perception of mercenaries being but another group of people. That wasn’t to mention that Ike was able to intercept the explosion of another devastating bomb, so his first-impression of him was already positive.

-Growing up as a mercenary and constantly being exposed to hushed jeers from commoners, let alone nobles, Ike had expected Marth to treat him the same. Had they not been forced to work together to save the world, Ike might have been more isolated and kept to himself. Circumstance was a cruel one, so whether Ike wanted to work alongside royalty or not wasn’t exactly up to his decision- and as a mercenary, he was willing to adapt to his situation.

-The two weren’t swift to get along- Ike was naturally reclusive and Marth unfortunately had difficulty finding conversation topics he and Ike could relate to. The most the two were able to bond over was their swordsmanship- and bringing up that topic seemed to strike an odd nerve with Ike. He only ever briefly mentioned his father was to thank for his ability to handle a blade before going quiet and focusing on something else, leaving a guilty taste in Marth’s mouth after presenting the discussion.

IkeMarth : Naptime

-The two grew up with seldom time to relax or take naps, Ike more so adamant on training and honing his abilities. That wasn’t to say Marth himself wasn’t dedicated to refining his abilities as well, but Ike always trained with such fervor and passion- Marth was definitely able to interpret Ike had a strong purpose for strengthening himself.

-While Marth understood the importance of strength and improvement, he also understood the importance of rest. Marth would leave Ike alone for an hour or two before approaching the training grounds, preparing to persuade Ike to abandon his activity for just a bit to enjoy something quieter.

-Their argument would always begin with Ike insisting Marth wouldn’t understand his determination, swiftly returning to his efforts and ignoring the prince. Fortunately, Marth was well versed- far better than Ike was, much to his dismay.

-It only took a few well-chosen words to convince Ike to put Ragnell away and to just relax, and for the longest time it would just be Ike to calm down in the nearby woods alone.

-A particular session however, Ike decided to challenge Marth’s advice: as much as the prince preached about the importance of relaxation, he seldom saw him do so himself.

-To answer for this hypocrisy, Ike proposed Marth relax with him in the forest.

-Marth had no objections of course- he didn’t have any bad blood towards the mercenary, and this would be a great opportunity for the two to really bond.

-So for the next hour or so, Ike and Marth laid side by side in the nearby woods, quietly admiring the nature around them and enjoying the comfortable silence between them.

-When time began to drone on and the sun began to dip behind the trees, Marth allowed himself to sit up and look to his side where Ike presumably laid- only to find him sound asleep.

-Ike did an excellent job concealing how tired and overworked he was- even after a few delicate shakes, Marth was unsuccessful with waking him.

-Ike’s slumber, while unexpected, offered Marth a silent invitation to properly look at his comrade. It was no news to acknowledge Ike’s stern features and menacing demeanor, so to see him so peaceful and calm made Marth’s heart flutter. It was as if Marth was able to forget that the boy laying next to him was a deadly, seasoned mercenary- no stranger to taking lives without hesitation and doing so with frightening strength.

-Marth found himself inching next to Ike and letting himself lay down to face him, continuing to admire his features for a while longer before succumbing to sleep himself.

-The first to awaken between the two was Ike. Under typical circumstances, Ike was rather a light sleeper- he’d been conditioned to be ready to awaken for any circumstance. However, he wasn’t successful in anticipating just how tired he was that day Marth intercepted his training once again.

-Speak of the devil, Ike found himself near inches away from Marth’s sleeping face, a delicate smile plastered on his face.

-Unexpectedly waking up next to someone would typically cause Ike to recoil in alarm. But waking up to the face of Altea’s prince resulted in rather different feelings.

-Marth always looked so pristine and well kept, a hair rarely ever out of place as his golden circlet kept everything in place. Being able to observe him up close however made Ike’s cheeks flush, not being able to deny the fragile beauty that his companion possessed.

-But Ike knew better than to just stare at someone in their sleep, especially when he and Marth’s relationship was only just budding at this point. While Marth was gentle in his attempt to awaken Ike, the latter wasn’t so as he roughly shook Marth’s frame awake.

-The two basked in the awkward atmosphere, both privy to the fact that they shamelessly watched the other sleep and privately admire the other’s complexion before abandoning the forest to return to the main building.

[colorofmymindposts]

Roaming the Greenwood

Fandom: Maurice — E.M. Forster, Maurice (1914), Maurice (1987) Pairing: Kitty Hall/Violet Tonks, Maurice Hall/Alec Scudder Rating: Gen Status: Complete Word Count: 949 Summary: Kitty discovers two men so very similar to herself and her friend, but their differences cannot be reconciled. Tags: Slight Canon Divergence, Social Commentary, Intersectionality Issues, Gays in Love But They Don’t Know How to Support Their Community, Set in 1934, My Version of an Epilogue  Story: 

The sanguine greenwood, unkempt, looming, and ancient in its prowess reminded Kitty very little of the pristine and bordered Domestic Institute she once attended as a girl. She said as much to her Violet, with whom she walked arm in arm.

“That’s why I suggested we take our walk here. There’s a privacy to this place unlike any other in England,” her friend said intelligently.

Always a fanatic for learning, Kitty never minded the way in which she was continually reeducated by Violet. Goodness knows their heads were filled with nothing but rubbish at that girls’ school where they met so long ago.

“I should think that would be ideal for our purposes, don’t you think?”

Needing no further prompting, Kitty took Violet’s face in her hands and kissed her sweetly, her pert, soft lips melting into Kitty’s own. Their kisses were languid and unhurried, neither passion or fear of discovery propelling them forward. Their bodies were comfortable and attuned to each other, and Kitty began to stroke Violet’s cheek gently with her fingers while her lover’s arms circled round Kitty’s waist. Their love was practically palpable in the air, chorused by birdsong.

Of course, it would only be when Kitty was contemplating leaving daring violet marks upon Violet’s neck that a thwack! noise unidentifiable in the deep woods startled them and had them apart immediately, smoothing down their skirts consciously.

“Couldn’t have been an animal, I suppose,” Kitty surmised, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it to calm her nerves. All her friend had to do was extend her hand, and Kitty placed one between her proffered fingers, cupping the lighter as it set the cigarette alight before Violet brought it to her deliciously wet, swollen lips.

“It’s likely a hunter,” Violet said after taking a long drag. “Although they shouldn’t be this close to town. We really ought to tell them off before they kill one of us by accident.”

“Really Violet, you say the most morbid things,” she admonished lightly even though she liked it.

Her friend rebutted her firmly still. “I say the most morbid things about men, you should note. I radiate perfect pleasantness when I speak of any other subject, especially you, my dear.”

Kitty scoffed, knowing this was meant to mollify her. A teasing remark came to mind, and she could not help but pursue it. “The hunter could be a woman. You don’t know.”

“As if! A gentle lady or a woman of lower rank in our society would never. I doubt even if we Socialists were to have our way women and men would all occupy the same positions. Besides, it goes against our teachings at the Domestic Institute. I think Miss Forster would have a conniption if women were to take the traditional places of men.”

“We did in the Great War,” Kitty contested. “I think anyway that Miss Forster would have a conniption if she saw what we’ve shared in the woods. And in dormitories, and our bedroom…”

Kitty was unable to finish this thought as they both burst into giggles unceremoniously at the thought of the red-nosed, severe, Christian-suffering school marm discovering they were disciples of Sappho and Radclyffe Hall.

Twigs snapping in the near distance sobered their newfound mirth, however, and again they were on guard. The sounds were closer than before, and the women sought out each others’ hands for reassurance, choosing to hide behind some towering shrubs. Once the figures could be seen through a small parting in the bushes, Kitty realized they hardly had any need to be worried. Two woodcutters lumbered through the greenwood, and somehow it seemed as though the men belonged there and always had, like the trees that shrouded the four of them, herself, Violet, and the woodcutters, altogether from the prying eyes of society. There was something so familiar in the gait of the one man, perhaps the color of his hair as well, but Kitty simply could not place it in that peculiar moment. Transfixed as she was, she was equally disgusted. It was very rare that she had to encounter anyone outside of clean-cut suburbs, and the result produced in this instance had her distressed at how unabashedly dirt and filth clung to their clothes, how they were so uncaring of how they were perceived. It seemed simultaneously a great mistake and privilege they held unlike a woman of her upbringing.

The one man with curiously curly hair turned to his companion in confusion. “I could’ve sworn I’s smelt smoke in bout these parts.”

“Well, I see no fire or any indication of one. I think we’re in no danger today, Alec,” the other replied, in a voice much more polished and well-bred, finishing with an endearing smile.

“If there’s was someone or other, I’d chase ‘em out. This place belongs to you and me alone, sir,” the last word placed with some kind of emphasis, an inside joke or tell Kitty could not understand. The fair-haired man threw back his head and laughed mirthfully. He wrapped an arm around his shorter fellow’s shoulders and staggered on out of the clearing deeper into the green.

It was clear the nature of their relationship, a friendship tinged with illicit intimacy, a dynamic she knew all too well. But there was something about the two, of their status (or lack thereof) and immediate call to seek out and identify, as though the greenwood was theirs alone. It did not settle well in her stomach at all. Silently, she turned to Violet, pressing a finger to her own lips to indicate they should leave this place quietly. It was evidently never meant for them in more ways than one. 

Author Notes: This idea obviously comes from Forster's concept for a potential epilogue with Kitty, Maurice, and Alec; while I am aware that there is an existing version of this epilogue, I wanted to explore some of the nuances of Maurice's and Kitty's characters, especially Kitty since we see/read so little of her in the film/novel.

This also serves as some steaming hot commentary on class privilege with lesbians who identify as sapphic versus those who are more comfortable with dyke and less intellectual terminology. I also try to address early gatekeeping in the mlm community, which you will hopefully see what I mean in a bit. I feel like Forster's oversimplification of the female characters in his novel (like saying Kitty would immediately disapprove of Maurice/Alec, which serves no other purpose than being a mouthpiece for society rather than being her own character) stems from his misogyny, and I wanted to address that through this fic. 

While this novel was Way ahead of its time and so important, it's exclusively focused on a gay male narrative and thoroughly assumes all women are attracted to men; plus my lesbian brain couldn't help but ship Kitty and Violet after Kitty *brought her friend home* in chapter 29 much like Maurice had many times with Clive, no? And Kitty never marries in the novel so this could totally happen. I am aware Violet is not a character in the film and that she was not mentioned in Forster's epilogue, but I added her anyways. Please let me know what you think of my version! 

[feralnoble]

...... 22 Fritz/Vixel?

22. Muffled, from the other side of the door

absolutely, love

“Maybe you should go without me.”

Vixel frowned lightly at the closed door, as if the cracks in it’s dark and withered surface would open up into a mouth with splinters for teeth and speak answers to his questions. But doors did not speak, and there were no answers to his questions, or even questions to be asking, or flaws to be solving. Finding no clear problem, and no gaping wooden mouths to tell him otherwise, Vixel resorted simply to a chuckle, trying the doorknob once more, finding it still locked, as it had been every time prior, when Vixel came to check on his partner.

“If you cannot tie your necktie proper, Fritz, I am happy to assist.” A smile, a little bit of fleeting amusement at the idea of his partner struggling with the colorful tie at his neck. Purple, just as he liked, his favorite color. Fritz struggled occasionally with these sorts of tasks, tasks he did not grow up doing, in his childhood as a thief. Tying an ascot, attaching cuff-links, straightening a collar. He would always squish up his nose, purse his lips in frustrated concentration, and every time Vixel would laugh, softly, in complete adoration, before helping with whatever caused the strife, and using gentle kisses to smooth the line between Fritz’s brow.

Vixel believed it was an endearing trait, and Fritz had never appeared to harbor any abhorrence toward his own ignorance. The man would laugh, thank Vixel for his help, return his kisses with one of his own. It was simple, and domestic, and Vixel was absolutely reveling in it. In these moments they formed their own world, and Vixel never wanted to leave it’s warmth. 

There was a hint of a scoff from behind the door, a muffled, “I already have it on,” defensively muttered, and Vixel softly laughed once more. Before Vixel could press for more details about the hold up, if there was another garment that he was possibly struggling with, and the still-locked door, however, Fritz continued to press, “Just go without me.”

Again, Vixel felt himself frown, uncertain at the unusual behavior of the performer, of the tone of his voice. It sounded as if frustration was coloring his words, bittering his tone into blackness. It was unusual from Fritz, who while the occasional sarcasm would bite into his words, was typically able to keep a light air in his words, even if it was all bluster and acting. 

“Now Fritz,” Vixel began, taking a meager step back from the door to instead busy himself straightening his own tie, in little anxious movements, a habit he was often told he had. Fidgety, they would call him, whenever the slightest thing fell out of place, he would fidget, would spent too long fixing his clothes, adjusting his hair. Once, he tightened the strings of his violin so tightly they split. It was an awful habit, but he stood, and he twisted his tie in his anxious, treacherous hands. “If I recall, you were very excited to come with me just the other day. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart, not even Liger could hold me down and stop me,” Vixel mimicked, a bubble of laughter escaping in the middle of his impression, over the choke of his too-tightly twisted tie.

‘It’ was an upcoming recital of Vixel’s, a rather important one, though if you were to ask Vixel all of his recital’s were of equal importance and weight. This one simply had a few important faces coming to see his new choir, and Vixel felt he should posture a bit more than he usually would, including neatening his attire, and asking his date to come along with him. Fritz had agreed, had expressed excitement in getting to see Vixel perform with his choir, even agreed to wear the nice, neat clothes that Vixel suggested for him. Complete with a purple necktie, because it was his favorite color, and Vixel could not imagine Fritz without his posturing bright colors. 

Vixel had been elated, had to try to stifle the bubbling of nervousness that welled within him at the idea of his partner watching his show so intently. At the same time, those bubbles popped with excitement, at exuberance at the idea of being able to perform for someone so close to him, and he wanted to put on his best show yet, not just for the sake of his choir, but selfishly, for himself too, to show off to his partner. 

He wanted the depths of his feelings to sing out to him, and only to him, even in a room full of people.

Yet, meager hours before the titular performance and now it appeared as if Fritz had grown cold feet, and refused to leave his room. Vixel could just not fathom why.

“I don’t sound like that,” Fritz sniffed, and Vixel could hear the slight creak of the door, a gentle protest of the wood grains, and could imagine Fritz leaning against it while he spoke. “Just– you’ll be better going without me.”

The phrasing was more than enough to peak Vixel’s interests, and enough to alert him that something was wrong. For Fritz did not claim to want to stay home for himself, but for Vixel’s sake, and that simply did not sit right with him at all. In fact it sat cold and hard within his stomach, heavy like a stone, slimy with moss. There was something just wrong about it to set off his alarms, to make his thin fingers twist harder at the tie around his neck, and feel it bite against his skin. From the hall window, Vixel could see the light begin to grow long and paint shadows on the floor, and he knew it was near time for him to leave to make it to his recital. If he did not leave soon, he would very likely be late, which would not be a good appearance at all. He was a performer, a conductor, and he had an image to uphold. 

Vixel stepped closer to the door, and pressed his forehead against the cold wood. “What ever do you mean, Fritz? I would not wish to be seen without you.” There was a distinct shuffle from the other side of the door, a long slide of cloth, and Vixel imagined Fritz had sat down before the door, leaning his back against it. Vixel would have scolded him lightly for wrinkling his clothes, if it had been like any other day, one not so suffocated by this looming anxiety.

“All these big cats are gonna be there, right? Why would they want to see you with– with a thief turned circus clown?” Vixel was glad for his strong hearing, as even then he struggled to hear the words Fritz spoke, already soft and muffled more by the door between them. “I’m not tryna disappoint your fans. You’ll look better without me, ‘s all. Give ‘em a good show.”

Fritz was not often an honest man with his feelings, Vixel had learned, over time. It had taken a couple months of careful prying and wiggling just to get Fritz to discuss any part of his past in detail, and Vixel still felt that no amount of console and gentle touches made Fritz think it was okay. As much as Vixel insisted otherwise, Fritz was bullheaded, stubborn to dig himself into a hole he made, shovel dirt with a tool made from his own learned hardships, and learned self-loathing. Occasionally, when Fritz would compliment Vixel, it would come with a detriment to himself.

You’re much more handsome than me, Vixel. How did a rotten guy like me get with someone like you? You must keep a sad cat like me around to make you look good.

With time Vixel had learned these particular kinds of comments cropped up only when Fritz was feeling upset, though the man would never dare admit to it. These nights, they would sleep close, and Vixel would press kisses against his hairline until Fritz relaxed, and things seemed better. Vixel knew of his insecurities, but it was unusual for them to be spoken so blatantly into the air. It was worrisome.

“Now, not a word of that is true.” Vixel kept his voice firm, despite the sadness that crept into his chest, that made it’s home around his lungs, his heart. “I meant what I said. I would not dream of being seen without you.” Vixel thought briefly upon their relationship, of how he felt, when he was with the other performer. He struggled to put into words the lightness in his rib cage, how being together made him feel warm, as if embers had been trapped within him. He felt safe, and happy, with Fritz at his side, in a way that Vixel had only ever dreamed of, in the privacy of his own mind, when he allowed himself the luxury.

The idea of having a man whom he could call his own, why, it made his heart sing with music. Perhaps that would be the only way he would ever be able to properly express it.

“There is music I cannot make without you by my side.”  

While Fritz viewed himself as a broken remnant, Vixel had yet to find a restored instrument that did not sing just as well, if not better, than it’s companions. And while Fritz may struggle from time to time with his worth, Vixel had no hesitations with reassuring him. That was what one did, after all, when they were in the throes of passion. For really, that was what these warm tones that flit around the insides of his rib cage were, weren’t they?

“Oh, Fritz,” Vixel mumbled, softly, kneeling down on the ground so he could be closer to where he imagined the performer to be sitting, so his lips could be as close as possible, even with the barrier between them. “I love you so.”

A silence stretched out between them, and the shadows on the ground grew longer, creeping ever closer to where he kneel on the ground. Vixel watched them, silently, ever closer, ever longer, ever darker. If he did not leave, he would be late. Yet his heart ached, for while he desired to perform, he knew his music was always influenced by his emotions, and he wished not to give such a somber performance this evening. He wished to give one full of love and adoration, but felt it impossible, with this growing rift between them, with this dreadful door.

As the minutes grew long, Vixel finally stood, placing one hand loosely upon the door knob of the locked door. He almost wished he were the thief, so he could pry the lock open himself, and properly comfort his partner. Alas, he knew Fritz would have to allow himself this console, both physically, and mentally. Fritz held the key in this situation, both metaphorically, and literally.

Vixel feared his recital would be somber indeed, as he felt his heart ache.

In the same breath, he felt the door knob turn, and the door open.

Fritz stood hunched in the doorway, small, something very controlled in expression upon his face, a forced neutrality that did little to fool Vixel. He could see the way Fritz’s hair hung in his face, the tremble in the bones of his fingers where they gripped the door frame. No amount of acting could hide these things, not from Vixel, who knew him inside and out, and yet still knew so little, of the demons that crawled around the inside of Fritz’s skull when he slept.

Nor could it hide the softness in his voice, worn and haggard, when he spoke, “Say it again. Please.”

Vixel smiled, raised his arms in a silent offering, and spoke, “I love you, Fritz. With all the music in my heart.”

As Fritz stepped forward to accept his touch, to bury his face against the conductor’s neck, he responded in small, earnest mutterings.

I love you too, Vixel. You mean so much to me. I never want to let you go. I love you. I love you. 

Vixel pressed kisses against the side of Fritz’s head, watched how the sunlight from the window drew shapes in light and dark over his hair. Gave highlights to the dress clothes that Fritz had so begrudgingly agreed to wear for the evening, to be his date, for his recital. Where he would perform a symphony of love, and adoration, of endearing tones for his love. And Vixel laughed, shortly, an escape of feelings he could not help but stop.

“Fritz,” Vixel managed past the bubble of laughter, rubbing his hands up the back of his companion, “You did put your necktie on wrong.”

“Shit.”

“I’ll fix it, love. I’ll fix it.”

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTES: Forkannukkah continues! So my biggest challenge with this one-shot was not to spend more time on it than the others because (spoiler) Makoto is my favourite Senshi. It's by a very thin margin because I love them all so much, but I just adore this gentle Amazon! But I forced myself to write a story of similar length and passion instead of putting all my focus on Jupiter. Hope you guys like it!

Act 4. Makoto: The Housewife Is A Husband

"USAGI!" Sailor Jupiter called out as she flung herself forward, arms extended to save Sailor Moon from a fall that would at the absolute least have bruised her tailbone, if not shattered it. Again.

"OOF!" Success.

Jupiter didn't know why she spent so much time saving their leader. It was even how they first met; diving to keep her pretty blonde head from being plastered across the front of a car. There were two other Senshi on the team already, and they were still looking for their fifth, yet she seemed to always be the one rushing after the smallest when she was in trouble. She could be such a klutz sometimes!

But she was also ready and willing to thrust herself into the heat of battle… or at least, now she was. Once upon a time, she had been nervous and unsure of herself, but after a few good rounds against the Dark Kingdom, she was starting to come into her own. It was pretty inspiring to watch.

"Sorry!" she hissed as she was set on her feet again. "Thanks again, Jupiter!"

"Will you stop wasting time?!" Sailor Mars hissed out of the corner of her mouth, raising an ofuda that she was about to toss into the villain's face, freezing it in place with her spell so they could more easily dispatch it. "This isn't a tea ceremony class — these guys mean business! Finish it off already!"

"Its weak point is exposed," Mercury confirmed, gesturing toward the glowing crystal that had been revealed by Mars's attack. "A strike there should bring it to its knees."

Nodding, Usagi flexed her muscles, cracked her neck. "Got it! This thing is goin' down!"

"Get 'em, Sailor Moon!" Jupiter cheered her on as the pigtailed heroine dashed toward the ugly thing. What was this one supposed to be? An accordion, maybe? Weird. After a while, it became easier to stop caring what the Enemy looked like and just attack, focusing on strategy instead of idle questions.

And it worked, as usual. While they held off the minions, Sailor Moon used her tiara to dispatch the Big Baddie and they had won. Zoisite was beaten back again, sneering down at them while vanishing into the nothingness, and the day was saved. Thanks to…

"Sailor Moon, Champion of Justice!" she crowed at the top of her lungs, striking a pose while she, Mercury, and Mars did the same on either side of her. She tried not to laugh; what a little nerd.

                                                        ~ o ~

But that was their profession. Outside of her time spent fighting against the forces of evil as Sailor Jupiter, Makoto Kino wasn't that impressive. None of them were. Maybe Usagi was cute and bubbly, and Makoto was strong, and Ami was a certified genius, and Rei had fortune telling skills, and they were all at least passably attractive… but nobody in their school, or in all of Azabu-Juuban really, knew they existed. Popularity wasn't that important to Makoto, but Usa-chan really seemed to lament that. Go figure; different people have different interests.

It was another average afternoon, and the three of them were eating lunch on a blanket under a sakura tree with Usagi's childhood friend, Naru. That is to say, two of them were both eating out of Makoto's bento, since Usagi never seemed to be able to remember her own. Or had no money to buy anything, but mysteriously did have money when they got to Game Center Crown after school. She was used to it by now. Rei would give her hell about it, and Ami or Luna would lecture her on wise spending choices, but personally, Makoto understood that thriftiness wasn't one of Usagi's strengths. Not everybody was good at everything, and she always had plenty of extra food, anyway.

"Say 'ahhhh'," she teased, holding up a croquette with her chopsticks.

"Ahhhhh!" Usagi sang out obediently, clasping her hands to one side of her cheek and striking an overly-cutesy pose as she opened her mouth wide as it would go. Again, she had to suppress a giggle at how adorable she was, and how funny. She noticed Ami was doing the same. Luckily, Rei didn't go to Juuban Junior High or she would have been chiding Usagi mercilessly — maybe even knocking her over so she missed the morsel and got a mouthful of dirt instead. It had happened before.

Without a disruptive Shinto shrine maiden around, Usagi got her savoury treat and chewed with relish, a hand covering her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. "Mmmm, oh that's so good…"

"You sound like you're getting laid whenever you eat," Naru sighed as she picked at her own bento of rice and umeboshi. Much simpler and less presentation than Makoto's, but she'd tried Naru's mother's cooking before and it was very good. Just simpler.

"I do not! Ami, I don't sound like that, do I?"

Blinking up from the book she had been casually reading between bites, Ami said, "What? Oh… well, how should I know what that sounds like?" Her cheeks took on a slight flush as she returned to the book, embarrassed at even being asked to discuss the topic at all.

"You do," Naru went on, a playful smile on her face. "And you and Makoto look like boyfriend and girlfriend, feeding each other."

"Hey!" Crossing her arms over her chest, she shot back, "I never feed Mako-chan! I mean, it's her food, so that would make no sense!"

"Never said both of you had to do it. And you didn't even pretend that I'm wrong, did ya?"

Flopping over onto her side, head landing in Makoto's lap, she cooed, "Like it would be that bad being Makoto's girlfriend. She's so tall and strong!"

"Careful, or the other students might take you seriously," Ami cautioned her, looking even more embarrassed than she had about asking to comment on the moans.

"Yeah," Naru goaded. "Wouldn't want that, would you? Yuri-no Usagi."

"I don't care," Usagi flung at both of them, pulling down her eyelid and sticking out her tongue. "Mako-chan and I are secure in our pretend relationship!"

Makoto giggled at how playful and hilarious they were together. Almost like a manzai comedy team; Naru was the straight man and Usagi clearly the silly one. Sometimes, she envied how close the two of them were; she'd never had a good friend like that. Even at her old school, her height and 'freakish' strength had put the other girls off wanting to hang around with her. Some of them were acquaintances, and the teachers liked her well enough, but being an orphan tended to make everyone who wasn't afraid of her treat her like a poor little wounded bird. And the junior high boys were never interested in a girl who was just as tall as them, if not taller.

Luckily, she happened upon Usagi about to become a part of someone's bumper and found herself a group of friends in Juuban, or it would have been the same thing all over again. Even now, she still heard whispers about her being kicked out of her old school for roughing up… someone. The 'someone' changed every time; a girl, a boy, a teacher, a policeman, the principal…

"Mako-chan? Are you okay?" A finger poked into her side. "Um… if you don't want to feed me, I can just…"

Her hand was twitching toward the chopsticks. Shaking away the deeper thoughts, she smiled. "Nah. I can- hang on, here." She nipped up a piece of narutomaki sushi for her, and Usagi's jaw popped open as if automatic.

"She's going to catch a few flies like that one day," Naru sighed. Usagi scowled, but was chewing as she did so.

                                                        ~ o ~

It wasn't long after that casual lunch that they got the class assignment. Cooking. Something Usagi couldn't do to save her life, despite how much she loved home economics. The instant she heard it, Makoto knew what would happen; she and Ami would do just fine, Naru would muddle through, and Usagi would put it off completely until the last second. And she had been right.

"Oh, there you are," was all she said when she opened the door to see the bun-headed blonde standing there with a wide, endearing smile. A couple of plastic shopping bags hanging from her wrists, laden down with ingredients — some of which might have even been the right ingredients.

"Yep! It's me! Can I come in?"

"Why?" Might as well tease her a little while she could.

"Mako-chaaaaan…" The pout was pretty extreme. Olympic-level. "I don't know how to make Italian food! I barely know how to make green tea rice, and mine's always too sticky! Be a pal? Be a chum, a bosom companion, a-"

"Alright, alright, enough. I'll help you." Rolling her eyes, she pushed the door wider. Usagi flashed her a grin before skipping inside and practically hopping out of her flats as she booked it to the kitchen. Makoto had no choice but to bump the door closed and follow.

"So cool that you have this place all to yourself," she was glowing as she set the bags down. At least she was beginning to lay the ingredients out, and not being entirely useless.

"Yeah, cool," Makoto sighed.

Once she had the bags wadded up in one hand, she turned around to see the slight frown on her friend's face, and her own excited expression slipped. "Oh… I mean, well, it is, but… I didn't mean to rub it in that you don't-"

"Forget it," she quickly cut her off. Not wanting to talk about her parents, to open up that can of pure pain. No amount of years passing could erase her loss. Still, no use moping now that so much time had passed; she would rather focus on the good things in her life. "Being a teenager living on my own is pretty great sometimes. Um… so, what dish were you supposed to make?"

But Usagi wasn't that easily distracted. Normally, yes, but not this time. Makoto sometimes could forget just how empathetic she was, even if she forgot less often than Rei or Luna. Glancing away at the stove, then back upward, she whispered, "Is it tough? Like, having nobody around? You seem to be doing pretty great, so I guess… I didn't-"

"Used to be hard," she interrupted, so Usagi wouldn't have to keep fumbling for words. Her hands started to sort through ingredients, to keep busy. "But I got used to it. And now I have the Senshi, and Naru and Luna, and… it's better now. Plus Motoki at the Game Center!"

"Oh, I know! He's a hunky guy, and a great friend. But you know, if you ever feel lonely…"

Nodding, she flashed her friend a little smile. "I'll call. Got all your house numbers by my phone." She nodded at the wall-mounted phone across the kitchen, with the little whiteboard showing the numbers for the Tsukino residence, the Shinto shrine, the Game Center, and the Mizuno residence. She didn't really know Naru well enough to ask for hers yet.

"Wow! You do, that's great! Sometimes I forget Naru's number even, and I don't have it written down because I'm a ditz, and always remember to do it when I don't have my address book. So I just end up calling for the Directory." Her faint blush about her own forgetfulness was too cute, and Makoto laughed, which ended up setting Usagi at ease, too. "But you're so organised, Mako-chan! I wish I could be like you!"

It was her turn to feel flattered. "Ahh, stop it. Anyway… what are we making?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, uh… lasagna? I think? Is that the one with the thin noodles and the, um…" Her hands made some kind of gesture that Makoto couldn't figure out, so she just shook her head and looked into the bag.

"Oh! Yes, you have lasagna noodles… and spaghetti noodles?"

"Well, the spaghetti noodles looked right, but those actually say 'lasagna' on them, so… I didn't know…" Her shoulders shrugged. "You're so much better at this stuff than I am. Better at fighting, and cooking, and even classes; maybe not some genius like Ami, but you have actual grades that aren't failing, which is way better than me…"

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean you can't learn, Usa. Come here, look."

So she began instructing her friend in the ways of Italian cuisine. Really, she only had to tell her how to make lasagna, but she also explained about spaghetti and fettucine, and a few of the different types of sauces. She could tell Usagi was experiencing information overload, so eventually they took a break to get a couple of bottles of Calpis Soda and talk, leaning against the counter.

"I'll get this, I promise," Usagi said between swigs. "And maybe someday, I'll know something and I can teach that to you!"

"Someday you'll know something, huh?" she laughed. Usagi's ears burned, and she bumped her with her elbow. "It's alright. I like helping you, because you're so energetic. As long as it's not about homework."

"Ughhhh, homework." Then they both laughed. "You're going to make such a great mom. It's like, I can be as much of an airhead as possible and you don't care, you just… keep helping me. I don't deserve it."

That gave her a weird feeling. A great mom? She hadn't given it a lot of thought — mostly because she was still working on the finish-high-school-and-find-a-husband part. Leaning over again, she wrapped her arm around Usagi's shoulders. It was so easy to do, being that much taller than her. "Sure you do. Come on, don't be so down on yourself; you can cook! I know you can!"

Both of her arms slithered around Makoto's stomach. This feeling was a completely different kind of weird; it felt so easy, having her fitted up against her that way. Being almost a head taller was part of that, but it was also that she was petite, and cute, and sweet. And her shampoo smelled nice…

"Maybe. But thanks for helping, either way. At least I'll pass this assignment. And then I can worry about math! Bluuugh, why does it never end?!"

"Math can wait." Nuzzling her hair, Makoto said, "Tell you what. Let's work on this lasagna. After that, I'll get out the Famicom and we can see if it still works. Sound like a plan?"

The squeeze and squeal Usagi gave her made her laugh. "Mmm, thank you, Mako-chan! You always know exactly how to get me motivated!" When she didn't let go after a second or two, Usagi pulled her head back just enough to look up at her. "Mako-chan?"

"Hm?"

"Um…" Her cheeks turned a little redder. "You like hugging me, huh? Not that I'm complaining! Just, y'know… I thought you wanted to get started on the lasagna."

She had a point: Makoto had been holding onto her for a minute or so, at least. Longer than was normal for friends. Why did she feel so comfortable with Usagi there? Like she was her little doting wife. A comical vision of the two of them in domesticated bliss swam into her mind; coming home every day to Usagi wearing an apron, apologising for burning a hole through one of her shirts while doing the ironing. The thought made her chuckle, and she kissed Usagi's head, prompting a little squeak of surprise.

"Let's do it. I'll be the chef husband, and you be the poor sheltered wife who has to learn how to cook. We'll make a game out of it."

"Ohhhhhh, yes!" she giggled at once. "I like that! You know how much I love games!"

"Me, too! And Motoki can probably back that up, as often as we're down at the Game Center."

"Yeah!" Hopping back a step, she placed her fists on her hips and crowed in her usual superhero voice, "This is a job for Sailor Moon! Wait, I mean…" Her hands went to the side of her face as she tilted her head, popping one foot up and cooing, "Yes, dear! Help me learn how to take better care of you!"

"Of course, my honey!" Makoto said in a slightly deeper voice, and they both burst into fresh giggles at that. Then she put her hand at her chin, as she could remember her father doing often when she was younger. "Hmm, we should start with having all the ingredients ready."

"Goodness! I hope I can find them all!" Then she said in a stage-whisper, "Hey, I need an apron to really look like the housewife!"

"Right!" she whispered back. "Hang on, I got an extra one…"

Makoto ended up finding a more 'manly' cook's apron, so she put that on herself and gave Usagi the cute, frilly pink one she had already been wearing. The game continued as they readied ingredients, started combining them and put the lasagna in the pan, and Usagi played her part so well that Makoto found herself forgetting that she wasn't usually this doting and submissive.

Speaking of which… it was interesting that she chose to play such a submissive stereotype of a housewife, when she knew that Mrs. Tsukino definitely wasn't like that. Truly an independent mom of the Nineties! But the frequent flutterings of eyelashes, and the way Usagi would theatrically touch her face and say "oopsie" whenever she made a mistake were straight out of an American sitcom from the 1950s. Maybe she should try out for the drama club when they got to high school.

"Good work, little wife," Makoto told her in a hearty tone as she hugged around her shoulders again. That had happened often; if it wasn't her doing that, it was Usagi draping herself over her side. "We have made a fine lasagna!"

"My strong husband taught me how!" They both laughed again. Really, they sounded more like someone's grandparents than any modern husband and wife.

Then Usagi kissed her cheek. She had to lean up to do it, standing on her tippy-toes and neck stretching out, but she managed. It stunned Makoto enough that she almost broke character, but at the last second she managed to let out a gruff little hum. "Oh, s-stop it, sweetheart. You're embarrassing me!"

"Oh, men don't get embarrassed, they just get stronger!" When Makoto snorted, Usagi lost it, falling back onto the floor and rolling around with laughter until Makoto gave her a gentle kick in the butt to get her to quit. "Oh! Oh God, that's hilarious!"

"Real wives don't say their husbands are hilarious," she giggled, dropping the persona for the moment. It was kind of relief; she was trying to figure out how she felt about being kissed by Usagi. It wasn't a big deal, just a little cheek kiss. Totally normal between friends! So why did she feel so weird about it?

After a few seconds, Usagi popped up again, face reddish from all the laughing and wiping tears from her eyes. When she noticed Makoto wasn't doing anything besides leaning back against the counter, she blinked a few times, waiting for her to acknowledge her. It didn't happen; she was too preoccupied with her thoughts. After another few seconds, she slid her arms around her waist again, fluttering her eyelashes up at her.

"Husband, I need to know how to bake the lasagna. I'm helpless without you."

Now her heart was racing, trying to beat out of her chest as she gazed down at Usagi's sweet face. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, but she really thought a lot of that affection was genuine… not just a product of their silly fantasy. Usagi really was helpless without her. From the first time she saved her life to the many moments since, that theme kept popping up. Not that she minded. Out of anyone she'd ever known, she liked taking care of the tiny blonde ditz the most.

But it wasn't just that. Raising her hand to cup Usagi's cheek, she said in her deeper voice, "You aren't helpless, little wife. It is I who need you. Without your love, your tenderness… I am alone in this world."

The sincerity must have shone through the joking words, because Usagi's clear blue eyes widened, and she was working hard to swallow. Hands came up to shove her away, and they did push a little at first, but then simply rested on Makoto's shoulders. "I… w-well, I don't… want to leave you alone, my husband." Then a quiet giggle fell out of her lips, clearly shakier than usual, and she whispered, "Wow, you're pretty smooth, Mako-chan. I wish Tuxedo Mask would talk to me the way you do…"

"I know! He reminds me so much of my old boyfriend…" When she pet Usagi's cheek, she leaned into the touch, eyes half-closing. A thought struck her: Usagi was somehow even prettier when she was given over to a moment like that. A true princess. But this was a moment between two best friends, fellow Senshi! Maybe it was time they rethought the terms of their game. "Want me to stop, Usa-chan? I mean, I don't know what I'm doing…"

"N-nah. It's nice to pretend… I guess…"

"It is?"

"Yeah. I mean, um, as long as you're not uncomfortable or anything! We can stop… if you are…"

Makoto nodded, cleared her throat, and gripped the back of Usagi's neck. Instantly, she went still, eyes flying open again. It shot a chill into the pit of her stomach, but she ignored that and cleared her throat, speaking in her 'manly' voice again. "From the moment I saw you, I knew we were destined to be together. For you to be my bride!"

"Yes, my husband! My love!" The hands flexed on her lapels, then began petting up and down. "I have always been yours! Your strength gives me life!"

"Ah!" She dipped her, and the next giggle of pure joy from Usagi was definitely not acting. "How can a man resist such a… a goddess?!" The word came to her at the last second.

"Then do not resist any longer, Prince Mako! Kiss me and claim me again!"

So Makoto kissed her. It was supposed to be a silly one, and she dipped the smaller woman lower and waggled her head from side to side for comedic effect, making Usagi flail and laugh.

But she also kissed back. And after the first second or two, it stopped being a game. The "mmm-mmm!" noises faded into honest sighs, tightly-closed lips softened and parted slightly. Two hands slid up to cup either side of her neck, and the one she had wrapped around Usagi's waist clung more tightly. It was sweet. It was more than sweet: it was inflaming. The small form resting gently in her grasp was a welcome weight, and the mouth a portal to a world of sweetness and light that she had never even glimpsed before. All from a source she had never expected.

With no way of knowing how long they were locked together like that, they slowly parted, faces flushed and lips swollen. Usagi's crystalline eyes were completely glazed over when she looked down into them, unable to focus or to ask why they had done what they did. Makoto didn't know, either, so what was she supposed to say?

"Mako-chan…"

"Usa… I…" She cleared her throat and deepened her voice. "My sweet wife, I find you so irresistible."

"Really? You do?"

"Of course. We are married, and I wish to keep our marriage burning bright as a star!"

Usagi let out a quiet titter, bashful but smiling. "Thank you, husband." Another little kiss before she bit her lip, looking away shyly. Her whisper was sweet as her lips; "I've… never kissed anyone before… not really. But you must have kissed a lot of boys, you're so good at it…"

"I guess," she agreed, now acutely aware that they weren't playing anymore. And she was still holding Usagi.

"N-not that I mean like, that you're a skank! Just… you have experience, and I don't, so I was probably really terrible…"

That made her draw her up closer, out of the dip so that she was standing in front of her again. Toes were on top of her own, Usagi trying to make herself taller so their faces were closer, and she wrapped both arms tightly around her back to help in supporting her.

"You were great. Perfect, I mean… just like a wife. I guess. I've never had a wife before, either, so…"

"Anybody would be lucky to be your wife! I mean, you're so strong and caring like a man, but soft and thoughtful like a woman, and you can totally cook, and… a-and that was an incredible kiss!"

"Well… I could… do it again… if you wanted." Usagi looked even shyer, which she didn't think was possible given how shy she had looked a moment before that. "Or not! Y'know, I don't want to, um, make you feel weird…"

They were both silent for a moment. Usagi boosting herself by standing on Makoto's feet, she managed to start the kiss herself this time. It lasted even longer, ending with her eventually plopping the shorter girl's rear onto the countertop so that they could better reach each other's lips without straining. Hands slid up backs, soft moans sounded between them. Legs gently wrapped around her hips to keep her close. And as long as it went on, she only wanted more, and for it to go on eternally.

"AAAH!" Usagi squealed once they parted, hiding her burning face in her hands. "I can't believe we did that! And it was SO GOOD!"

"Y-yeah, it was!" Scratching the back of her neck, she looked away to try to hide her giddy smile. "Usa-chan, I didn't think… well, I mean, this is just crazy! I've always seen myself growing up to be the housewife, not to find one of my own!"

A little hum floated out of Usagi as she thrashed from side to side, clearly past worrying and into the excited phase of her reaction. "I'm your housewife, I'm your housewife! Oh, I'm so happy!" Then her eyes flew open. "How am I going to tell my parents? Or the rest of the team? Oh, they'll be okay with it, they always joke about that, anyway…"

"We'll figure it out," she chuckled, leaning up to nuzzle Usagi's face. She nuzzled back, and they shared another quick peck that threatened to turn into more. "Oh wow, that's so easy to get started!"

"I know! How did it take us this long to try it? I always…" Usagi's voice got a little quieter as she raised a finger, tracing over one of Makoto's ever-present rosebud earrings fondly. "U-um, well, I hope you don't think this is weird but I've kind of thought about it before, once or twice. But it wasn't in a serious way! Just, y'know… you're so tall, and cool, and I liked it when you fed me… that's probably dumb."

"It's not dumb! I mean, sometimes I would think that it was nice taking care of you with you being so sweet and small, too, but I told myself I was overthinking it." Throwing back her head to laugh, Makoto cawed, "Guess we were just big ol' lesbians all along!"

"I guess so!"

They both laughed for a long time about that, letting the emotions explode instead of trying to bottle them up. It took way longer to get the lasagna started than they planned, but they managed it eventually. Not that either of them minded.

"Now that it's baking, husband," Usagi began as she dragged her toward the living room, "you should come relax for a while. Let me take care of you."

"Alright, alright," she laughed. Then in her deeper voice, "My wife must rub my feet and light my cigarette, and then I will give her pocket money to buy a nice mink tomorrow."

They giggled as Usagi settled Makoto in the comfy armchair. She had worked hard to make her living room welcoming, hoping that if anyone besides her old best friend Tomoko ever visited, they might feel at home enough to come back one day. Hence the squashy furniture, soft rug under the coffee table, and the many, many plants under the windows. It felt weird for her guest to be the one doting on her, but it was part of the game, after all.

"Where do you keep your cigarettes?" she goaded, causing Motoko to snort. "Or can I bring you a can of Sapporo?"

"Just the cigarette, wife. They're in the fridge." They were only chocolate ones, anyway. When Usagi came back and popped one between her lips, then mimed like she was lighting it, she mimed taking a few puffs and then took it out to blow outward. "Phoo! Ahh, yes, very smooth and relaxing."

"Just as you deserve." She sat on the ottoman and picked up one of Motoko's legs. By the time she figured out what she was trying to do, it was already too late to head her off.

"Oh!" she gasped when she felt thumbs digging into the sole of her foot. "Usa-chan, I was kidding, you don't… mmm, that really is nice, though…"

"You've had such a hard day at work." Usagi hesitated for a moment, then improvised, "A chef with his own kitchen spends all day standing, and needs a wife to help soothe his aches, right?"

"Ohhhh, yeah…" It was more of a moan than a real answer, and Usagi giggled to hear how much her massage was working on her 'playmate'. It was also cute how she was adding to the backstory of their little game. After a few seconds of recovery, relaxing into the gentle sensation, she puffed on the cigarette again. "Wife, you… have made your husband quite happy today. If your dinner is delicious, then you will win the 'Best Wife' award!"

Her voice was so bubbly as she whispered, "Oh, if only I could achieve that dream!" that Mako couldn't suppress a titter. She rubbed for another minute or so, watching her pretend spouse eventually tire of pretending to smoke and eating the candy cigarette. Completely relaxing from the massage. Really, she would have paid Usagi to do this part for her; she might consider it, now that she knew how wonderful it felt.

Sometime after switching to the other foot, her "wife" whispered, "Mako-chan…"

"Hm?"

"I'm having a lot of fun today. Like, I know I just came over for help with home ec, but even without the kissing, it's been really nice. And I wouldn't mind trying it again someday, when we're not busy."

The sentiment touched Makoto more than she wanted to admit. It was nice having a friend so close — especially one she might be able to kiss now and then. Definitely a fringe benefit. But it felt too heavy and serious to respond to Usagi's words directly for some reason. So instead, she merely said, "You wouldn't mind coming by to cook and rub my feet? That's weird. You can come by and not do that."

"Yeah, I know." A playful smile in place, she moved to the side and knelt on the floor seiza-style, performing an ultra-low saikeirei bow with her hands in front of her knees, forehead nearly touching the rug. "I humbly apologise for my weirdness, master of my house."

The thrill that shot through Makoto was so profound that she felt her stomach tie into a knot, her heart beat faster. She both felt highly flattered and definitely wanted Usagi to stop debasing herself in such a way. "Usa… c'mon, you d-don't have to do that."

"But I want to, husband." Her face moved to one side, pressing soft lips into the tops of Jupiter's toes. She got in two or three kisses before she could jerk out of range, scrunching them to try and rid herself of the vaguely pleasant sensation. Now they were both flushed and embarrassed. "I want to please you."

"Y-you can please me by coming up here and sitting on my lap," she said with a slight stutter, face reddening further. "Before I faint or something!"

Smiling sweetly, Usagi stood and giggled for a moment about the whole situation. Then she turned and landed her warm rump on one of Makoto's thighs. She tried not to think about how nice that felt as she reached up and took either side of Usagi's neck with her hands, beginning to knead.

"Ooohh… oh, Mako-chan, that feels great…"

"A husband must take care of his wife, as well. Or what kind of husband would he be?"

The longer it went on, the sounds coming from Usagi's throat and the feeling of the muscles relaxing under her strong grip, the wriggling of the soft, padded hindquarters on her lap, made her want to kiss her again. Maybe for longer than a few paltry minutes… maybe more than just kiss her. Surprising how quickly she was getting used to this idea.

"Usa-chan, I…" Instead of finishing the thought, she kissed the shell of her cute little ear, and heard a quiet cooing in return. So she did it again. This was literally the most romantic moment of her life, and it was with another girl — one with whom she fought against the forces of evil on a weekly basis. Cute little bundle of blondeness, sweet, doting when she wanted to be doting…

"You're so… fantastic at this…" Her throat cleared; at least she was having trouble talking, too, and it wasn't just Makoto's problem. "And I never finished your other foot…"

"You didn't have to get to the first one," she told her in no uncertain terms. "I just like helping you cook. That would have been enough, and like… everything else is a bonus. That includes how nice your butt feels."

"You like that?" Her hips wiggled from side to side again, and Mako bit her lip to keep from groaning. "Hmm. I thought I noticed you checking out Ami's butt once before."

She had to head off that line of questioning, so she redoubled her efforts. There was a low purr from her thumb hitting a particularly stubborn knot, and Makoto had to ignore her own visceral response and stay focused on the task at hand. "You're still a little tense. Is it not good?"

"Mmmm, no way, Mako-chan… you're incredible. Can we kiss again?"

Makoto's green eyes twinkled with amusement. "My lips or my toes? You seemed to be into that."

"Either one…" When Makoto leaned over to gape at her, alarmed that she took her joke as being remotely serious, she ducked her head in slight shame.

"Usa-chan, I'm…" Her toes scrunched against the rug subconsciously. "But that's so weird! I m-mean… why?"

"W-well, it really felt right in the role! Y'know, worshipping my strong husband?"

"Yeah, I don't know a lot of housewives who actually kiss their husbands' feet! Just saying!"

"Maybe because their husbands don't have feet as cute as yours! I dunno!"

At that, Makoto had to scoff, even though her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. "N-nah, come on. Thanks for trying, but I know mine are huge and awful. Like the rest of me."

"Hey! Don't say that, you're perfect just the way you are! Like a supermodel! Even your feet are supermodel feet; so much sexier than my stubby toes!" Clearing her throat, Usagi rushed on ahead so Makoto wouldn't question that too deeply. "B-but, um, I'd definitely rather kiss your lips; those are… s-so sweet, and your arms are strong, and you always smell like perfume… I just can't handle myself around you."

Still trying to wrap her mind around what "sexy supermodel toes" was supposed to mean, Makoto shook her head and laughed before she kissed the back of Usagi's neck. "Then maybe I'll keep handling you. Would that help?" The resulting high-pitched squeal made her giggle more. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Wow, this is crazy!"

"Mmm, it is! But… I think… I could really get used to it. Having this with you. I mean, as long as you really think I'm worth doing this stuff with; you could probably do way better. With girls or guys!"

Swallowing down her nerves, she turned Usagi in her lap, one arm looping around her lower back and hand resting on her hip as the other one came up to caress her slender neck, fingertips rustling the wispy blonde hairs at the nape that weren't pulled up into her long twintails. It was such a possessive gesture that they both had to look away for a moment, but then she spoke to call Usagi back to the present. To tell her how wrong she was about the way she saw herself.

"My beautiful, sweet, delicious little wife deserves the best. And if she thinks that's me, then… I'm all yours."

"Mako-chan, my husband…"

The lasagna almost burned, they were so wrapped up in each other, and even once they hastily pulled it out of the oven it was quite a while before they logged some Famicom time. Delays due to "playing house" were about to become a regular part of their routine.

                                                        THE END

                                                      [next: Minako!]

[artificialqueens]

Barbie And Her Monster High Doll Chapter 2. (Adore x Trixie) - Lemonade

AN: There’s a lil moment where Trixie and Adore talk about being Native American so here’s a link to a tweet where Adore says which tribes she’s from. I couldn’t find much about Trixie being Native American other than the fact that she is, so if anyone has anymore specifics (which side of her family/which tribes) lmk!! We’ll pretend this didn’t happen and I’ll write in them talking about it in another chapter so it’s accurate. (I know this is an AU but I want to be respectful about it). That’s about it, I hope anyone reading enjoys this chapter!!

Adore. Such an odd name, Trixie thought. That odd name strangely fit her though. Trixie couldn’t imagine this girl, who had just punched a full grown man in the face to save a stranger, walking around with some name like Barbara.

“Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?” Adore questioned. Trixie nodded her head. A combination of being out of breath, anxious, in shock, and struck dumb by the memorizing woman standing in front of her left Trixie unable to speak. Adore lifted the hand Trixie had offered her into eyesight. “Really? Because your wrist has fingerprints bruised into the skin and you’ve clearly been crying.” Adore was straight to the point. The switch blade tucked away in her boot had only been pulled once, but if this man put his hands on Trixie the way Adore thought he did, she’d be the one chasing him down the street. “It’s happened to some of my friends.” Adore informed her in hopes of making Trixie more comfortable with talking to her about it. “You can tell me if he did. I’m sick of these dirtbags getting away with it. I don’t want him to get off easy if he hurt you.” Trixie’s eyes widened when she realized what Adore was implying.

“He didn’t touch me, I promise.” She was quick to clear up. Adore cocked a questioning eyebrow at her, not believing it but allowing her to continue anyway. “I think the bruises came from you pulling me.” Trixie added. Adore’s face fell, along with Trixie’s arm as she dropped it from her grasp. Adore felt like a true idiot now. “Oh. Sorry about that.” Trixie took one of Adore’s hands into both of hers. “Don’t be. You saved me from getting robbed by scar face, it could have been a lot worse than a few bruises if he decided he actually wanted to beat up a girl in a pink dress.” Trixie spoke with slight humor to ease the weight of the situation on her own mind, making Adore chuckle in the process was a bonus. “I like a girl who can joke about getting robbed fifteen minutes after it’s happened.” Trixie just smiled, her blushing cheeks not apparent since they were already splashed with color.

This girl wasn’t one to talk, Adore quickly noticed. Though, she was just saved from a robbery, then had to run across half the neighborhood to get away from the guy hunting them down. That would definitely leave the average person rendered speechless. Adore forgot at times that living like this wasn’t everyone’s reality; She was just lucky she supposed. “You should probably go home.” A hint of sadness was laced in Adore’s tone. She liked this girl, but she didn’t belong in her world. “It’s really not safe around here, which I think you’re aware of now.” Trixie nodded. The same hint of sorrow in Adore’s voice was written all over the blondes face. She couldn’t argue with her though, all Trixie wanted to do at this point was lay down in her own bed for the rest of the night–or the next three months. “I’ll walk you to your car or wherever.”

Adore watched Trixie’s face contort into an expression she couldn’t get a read on. “What’s wrong?” Trixie kicked herself for being so careless. The whirlwind of events had distracted her from the fact she had dropped her phone and money when Adore initially grabbed her. Her purse got lost somewhere between the building and the alleyway. Adore had put herself in serious danger tonight to save her ass, and she couldn’t even hold on to the items he was attempting to steal from her? You are so pathetic, Trixie repeated over and over to herself in her head, accidentally letting the words slip from her lips. “I’m so pathetic.” Her head dropped to her hands, so ashamed of herself she couldn’t even look at Adore in fear of seeing the same disdain she felt for herself all over the other girl’s face. “I dropped the money Alaska gave me to get home when you grabbed me.” Trixie cried through her hands. “My phone and purse too. Everything happened so quickly, I wasn’t even thinking. All I could focus on was running.” Trixie rambled, her words becoming more frantic as she grew more upset. “Hey. Hey, relax.” Adore stepped towards her, rubbing her hands up and down Trixie’s arms. Clearly she’s still shaken from the nights events, Adore thought. She didn’t know the anxiety bubbling in Trixie’s chest was the main contributor to her distress.

“I’ll walk you back to the building to get your stuff.” Adore offered.

Trixie lifted her head from her hands. “Is that safe?”

“Probably not, but I’ll be right by your side. If anyone messes with us I’ll punch ‘em in the face.”

Adore took Trixie’s hand into her own, easing her out of the alleyway they were originally hiding in. She had no plans of dropping the girl’s hand, the fear scribbled all over her face made Adore squeeze tighter. “We’re gonna be fine.” She reassured her matter of factly, using her free hand to reach over and rub Trixie’s arm again. She sounded so firm and sure in her words, Trixie took comfort in them. She let herself relax, at least enough to stop herself from breaking the bones in Adore’s hand from how hard she was holding onto her.

They spent the next few minutes walking in silence. The only words shared between the two were an “It’s okay,” From Adore to Trixie whenever she’d jump at the wind blowing through trees or a stray cat running in front of them.

“So Barbie,” Adore began, deciding to break the quiet that had fallen over them. She had a lot of questions for Trixie, and figured talking would distract her from getting scared at every noise she heard. It was a win win: she’d get to know Trixie better and stop her from shitting her panties any further. “what were you doing over here anyway?” If nothing happened tonight, had Adore just saw Trixie in passing, she’d assume prostitution. That was no dig at Trixie, or the way she was dressed. Adore thought she looked lovely, actually. The only girls around here who dressed to the nines at one in the morning were usually looking to make some money.

“If you keep calling me Barbie I’m gonna have to start calling you the ninety nine cent store’s version of a Monster High doll.” The insult flew from Trixie’s lips without any thought. Adore stopped dead in her tracks, accidentally pulling Trixie back as their hands were still intertwined. She felt so comfortable with Adore she forgot she wasn’t one of her friends who understood her humor and could be joked around with. That comfort quickly dissipated, replaced with anxiety as she internally berated herself.

Why do you have to be so stupid? Why do you always say the wrong thing? For once Trixie, can you act like a normal human being? Now she’s gonna hate you. She’s gonna hate you and leave you here for all the thugs to get a bite out of. Good job moron.

Adore’s cackling ripped Trixie out of her mental beat down. “I love it!” She wheezed out, voice strangled by her laughter. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard!” Trixie smiled softly as relief set into her body; Not only had Adore not been offended, but surprisingly amused by her joke.

Adore pulled herself together, wiping away the tears forming in her eyes from her intense fit of laughter. “So if I can’t call you Barbie,” She began. “can I call you gringa instead?” Adore snickered. A playful glint in her eyes told Trixie that was no term of endearment. “Depends.” Trixie said cautiously. “What does it mean?” Adore smirked, almost too pleased with herself. “It basically means white bitch.” Adore bit her bottom lip to keep her amusement from toppling over. Trixie couldn’t help but to smile at the sight of her. She looked absolutely pure, delighted with her own humor. “Actually, I’m half Native American.” Trixie shot her down, a smug look on her face knowing Adore wasn’t expecting that. “No fucking way!” Adore excitedly responded, jumping in front of Trixie while still keeping hold of her hand. She walked backwards now, blindly guiding Trixie forward. “Me too! That’s so fucking cool! Do you know what tribe you’re from?” Adore’s features had lit up with with such passion Trixie could tell she took pride in her heritage, which almost made her feel bad about not knowing much of her own. “I don’t.” She admitted with a tinge of shame in her tone. “I just know my dad was Native American.” Adore took notice of the was and made the choice to not ask Trixie anything about him. She didn’t want to risk upsetting her any further than the nights events already had. “My blood is made of Cherokee and Cahuilla tribes. I’m also Mexican, and German…and some other sort of white I can’t remember.” Adore shrugged. Trixie nodded along. “I’m just Native American with a cup of white trash.” They both laughed.

Adore skipped back to her place next to Trixie instead of in front of her. They made light conversation as they walked: what makeup brands they were both wearing, complimenting each other’s outfit, the conversation somehow switched to chocolate and now Trixie knew Adore’s favorite was dark and Adore knew Trixie’s favorite was milk. Trixie probably thanked Adore another eighteen times as she reassured her it was nothing, she was only protecting a sister.

“I just like sun chips better. I think it’s the false sense of eating hea–” “Wait!” Adore interrupted their debate on Pringles vs Sun Chips as she remember something far more important. Trixie actually stopped moving when Adore yelled. “I didn’t mean that literally.” She giggled, making sure to be gentle as to not give Trixie anymore bruises as she tugged her along.

“You never told me what you were doing around here in the first place.”

“Oh.” Trixie’s gaze dropped to the pavement. So much had happened in the past hour or so that Trixie had completely forgotten her night started out as a simple date to a party with her girlfriend. Now she had been heartbroken, almost robbed, chased by said robber, and in the midst of all this, was lucky enough to meet one of the most intriguing individuals she’d ever come across.

“I was at a party with my girlfriend–Well, ex girlfriend now.” The melancholy tone Trixie’s voice took on saddened Adore. The pad of her thumb offered soothing caresses to the back of Trixie’s hand. “Is that why you were crying? Is it the Alaska person you mentioned earlier?” Adore inquired, keeping her voice delicate as silk. Trixie bit her bottom lip, nodding yes at Adore’s question. “Well I think she’s an idiot for letting you go.” Adore spoke firmly. “I’ve only known you for like, an hour, but you seem like a sweetheart. I really like talking to you. I wouldn’t mind dating you myself.” Adore teased (though there was truth to her statement) in an attempt to perk Trixie up, nudging her softly. Trixie’s heart was in her throat at Adore’s words, her cheeks burning hot. She couldn’t stop the embarrassingly wide smile from spreading across her face. “Th-that’s really nice. I-I don’t know what to say.” A nervous laugh followed her stammering. “And you’re so easily flustered, it’s adorable.” Adore chuckled, poking Trixie’s crimson cheeks. The blush she was wearing did nothing to cover the obvious tint in her skin this time.

–—-

“I think that’s the building.” Trixie pointed to the brick structure only a few houses down. “I dropped my purse after we started running though, we should have found it by now.” Adore wrinkled her eyebrows. A sudden feeling of uneasiness washing over the dark haired girl.

As they got closer Trixie noticed, “None of my stuff is here.” She said completely dumbfounded, turning around to look at her new friend who’s eyes widened in panic. “Trixie we have to go.” She spoke urgently, her tone making Trixie tense.

“Why?”

“If your stuff’s not here he might have come back and taken it. He could be around the corner waiting to jump us.”

Trixie felt her blood turn to ice as Adore explained herself. Her heart had sunken into the pit of her stomach. She felt frozen in fear. “Trixie?” A glossed over, distant look was in her crystal blue eyes. Adore didn’t have time to snap her out of it. “C'mon. We gotta go.” She put an arm around Trixie’s waist, guiding her to walk as fast as she possibly could.

Adore made sure to walk in the street so she could see if anyone was coming at them from either side.

“Adore?” Trixie finally spoke after a few minutes had passed.

“Yeah, Trix?”

“Where am I suppose to go? I don’t have money to get home, or my phone to call anyone for a ride.”

“What? Do you think I’m gonna leave you on the sidewalk?”

Trixie wasn’t sure if Adore actually wanted an answer to that.

“You’re staying with me tonight.”