#and not only did she say these are romantic feelings

[nianeyemystic]

💦💖 Sexual & Physical Compatibility Synastry 🤤

Soooo this post was inspired by one of my close friends. She's in a long distance relationship & was explaining how different sex feels with her new man. Now let me preface this and say

*not everyone will experience this synastry the same, that's okay these are just MY OWN obseervations. Ive been studying this for a few years now and so far - it tracks lol*

❤️‍🔥Mars-Venus Aspects❤️‍🔥

✨ Conjunction, Trine, or Sextile: These aspects show natural attraction and sexual chemistry. Mars represents passion, while Venus represents love and desire. You can find yourself becoming so intensely attracted to your partner. It's something we astrologers always look for, if you have these, you most certainly will know it by how your body reacts to that person being around you.

✨ Square or Opposition: These can indicate tension that manifests as fiery, passionate attraction but may need effort to balance. So yes, you will want to tear their clothes off every time you interact, but it can also be like unnecessary fights & explosive fights. You will need a sexual outlet.

❇️Mars-Mars Aspects❇️

✨ If Mars in both charts forms a harmonious aspect (e.g., trine or sextile), you may share similar sexual energy levels and desires. Which can lead to wanting the sex at the same time or being on the same page about what makes you feel good in the bedroom.

😍 Mars-Pluto Aspects😍

✨ This is a powerful placement for deep, transformative, and intense sexual attraction. I looooooveeeee seeing this one in couples charts. If you've felt like you can't explain why your body tingles around them, why you can't stop thinking about them? Why you're always wanting to be near them. You possibly have Mars - Pluto. The connection can feel magnetic and almost fated.

💋 Venus-Pluto Aspects💋

✨These aspects create an obsessive, passionate attraction. I say obsessive bc Pluto is involved. It can be healthy though, depending on how you express your obsessions. Like....don't stalk them, but be open about how they make you crave the. There’s often a deep emotional and physical bond that feels irresistible.

🧡Moon-Mars Aspects🧡

✨ The Moon represents emotions and Mars represents physical drive, so these aspects indicate a connection that blends emotional intimacy with sexual passion. I already did an entire post describing this connection in detail, so make sure you visit that one here:

💙Venus-Mars in Each Other's Houses💙

✨ When one partner's Venus or Mars falls into the other's 5th (romance), 7th (partnership), or 8th (sexual intimacy) houses, it can signify strong attraction and sexual compatibility.

💕 Sun-Mars Aspects💕

✨ Harmonious aspects (e.g., trine or sextile) between the Sun and Mars often indicate a strong physical connection. Challenging aspects can create a dynamic but exciting sexual tension. I like Sun & Mars bc sometimes it can feel invigorating & exciting when relationships seem to get dull. You'll always find the other person just enough of a challenge to keep your enticed.

💋Moon-Pluto Aspects💋

✨ This aspect creates emotional intensity and a deep, transformative connection that often translates into a passionate physical bond. I have sen this play out several times and it can be a beautiful bond that only you two will understand. So much so that you may even be willing to try new sexual things w this person, taboo sexual exploration. As long as the emotional connection is being satisfied, you will do anything to please your partner sexually.

❤️‍🔥Eros and Psyche (433 & 16)❤️‍🔥

✨Eros (sexual desire) and Psyche (soulful love) aspects in synastry can reveal where deep sexual and emotional compatibility exists.

💛 North Node Conjunct Venus or Mars💛

✨This placement suggests a karmic or destined connection where the partners help each other grow, often through romantic or sexual experiences. The friend I was inspired to make this post bc of this has this with her man. His NN is conjunct her Venus. she's expressed many times how his love feels like it is healing her, forcing her to grow as a divine feminine. I love this one, it also leads to sexual healing.

💕Bonus: 8th House Synastry💕

When one person’s planets fall into the other’s 8th house, it often triggers themes of intimacy, transformation, and sexual magnetism.

These placements and aspects don't guarantee compatibility, but they can highlight areas of potential connection and attraction. Always look at the full synastry chart for a holistic view!

Do you have any of these? Let me know below!

@nianeyemystic ✨❥

[darkmatilda]

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you find out spencer has never been to new york you decide to do everything you can to make him fall in love with the city that raised you. and maybe, just maybe, fall in love with you too.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: early seasons spencer reid x bau!female reader, reader is kinda tough, description of the case (stalking), spencer is so blind you'll want to kick him, idiots in love

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 9k

𝐚/𝐧: this is a request i got from @written-in-the-stars06 ! thank you for this amazing idea <3 i hope it meets your expectations (even if only a little)

"JJ, I need your help."

The blonde woman froze in the doorway.

"Did you kill someone?" she asked after a moment. And though she seemed surprised, her voice had already adjusted to the situation, lowering into a conspiratorial whisper. As if signaling her readiness to help hide a body. A friend in crime is a friend indeed.

Or however it goes. 

If your eyebrows competed in the Olympic high jump, they’d win a gold medal.

"What? How did you even…wait, is that seriously the first thing that crossed your mind when you saw me?" You watched as your friend shrugged. Her posture relaxed slightly, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward at the sight of your expression. "Anyway, never mind. Are you going to let me in, or are we just going to stand here?"

For a moment, she studied you intently before stepping aside. You’d known she would; it was exactly why you’d come to her. You crossed into her apartment with heavy, restless steps, stopping only when you reached the living room—and only then realizing you hadn’t even taken off your coat.

Pressing a hand to your forehead, you turned to face JJ, whose worry was written all over her face.

“Well? Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

You inhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself as you prepared to say the words out loud.

Words that felt absurd.

Words that had invaded your mind, refusing to let go.

Words you couldn’t decide whether to embrace or reject entirely.

“I’m in love.”

Silence filled the room. A soft, disbelieving snort escaped her lips, quickly morphing into loud, unabashed laughter.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m not. Why? Is it really that strange for me to be in love?”

JJ snorted again, shaking her head from side to side.

“No. What’s strange is you storming into my apartment like a hurricane, nervous and… terrified, just to tell me you’re in love. Seriously, I thought something was wrong!”

“Because something is wrong,” you hissed through clenched teeth.

You weren’t angry—not at JJ, not at yourself, not at anyone. It was more… the weight of it all, the unfamiliar feelings that left you overwhelmed, spilling out in sudden bursts of frustration.

Your romantic life up until now had always existed on the fringes of your attention. Present, but without all the…symptoms. The dry throat whenever they were around, the inability to get them out of your head.

It all felt like something out of a sugar-coated entry in a teenager’s pink diary, not the mind of a grown woman.

“I’ll make you some tea,” JJ offered suddenly. The worry that had been etched on her face earlier was completely gone, replaced by genuine amusement at your behavior, visible in the soft smile tugging at her lips. “You’ll tell me everything. But now, take off that coat before you overheat…”

True to her word, fifteen minutes later, the two of you were sitting on the couch with steaming mugs of tea in your hands.

While JJ had been in the kitchen preparing it, doubts began to creep in. Was it really a good idea to tell anyone about this? About your…infatuation?

Even though you were friends, the whole thing made you feel a little pathetic. 

“So…” she began after a long moment of silence. “Are you going to say anything?”

You couldn’t find the right words. Instead of answering, you took a big sip of hot tea and winced as it burned your throat.

“Okay,” JJ sighed, setting her mug down on the table and folding her arms across her chest. “If you’re not going to, let me just guess.”

“Since when are you a psychic?”

“Not a psychic. Just someone who spends most of her life around profilers. That should be enough to figure out why my friend is acting so weird about a simple crush.”

“Can we please not call it a crush?”

“Love interest. Better?” You muttered not really but she completely ignored it and continued. “Let’s start with the fact that you came here. To me. Considering how private you are, it must mean you’re totally losing it over this. You seem confused, like you don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure whether they feel the same, so you don’t know what to do. And it doesn’t help that you’ve never had to chase anyone before. You’ve always been the one that guys chased after, not the other way around. And…” she hesitated, taking a breath. “The fact that you seem embarrassed, plus how much you work, leaving no time for dating, leads me to think… it’s probably someone from our team.”

With every sentence that left her lips, your hands tightened more around the mug. When she fell silent, your knuckles turned completely white. Everything she said was true.

"What should I do?" you asked quietly.

"Well, it would definitely be easier for me to advise you if you tell me who it’s about."

Instinctively, you shook your head. You didn’t want to reveal your feelings that much. Surprisingly, you weren’t worried that she would figure it out. After all, it wasn’t that obvious...

"Is it Spencer?"

"Fuck, is it really that obvious?" you blurted out in panic. If she could notice, who else could? The rest of the team? Reid himself?

JJ made a sound somewhere between a cough and a choked laugh.

"Actually, I was just going to randomly list all the options one by one," she said, then let out a short sigh, raising her eyebrows. "You surprised me a little. I mean, it's not that I think you two don’t fit together..."

You knew exactly what she meant. Your specialty at work was kidnappings, often handling negotiations and providing detailed instructions to the families of victims. You had learned to project an aura of calm control, and more often than not, you came across as stiff in the eyes of others. Something that had been pointed out to you multiple times in life, whether in jest or not. Reid, in many ways, was your complete opposite. While you surrounded yourself with a shield of silence due to stress, his mouth never seemed to stop. While you marched forward with apparent indifference, he seemed genuinely interested in everything happening around him, every tiny process on this planet. And maybe that was what fascinated you most about him? Or perhaps it was more about his extraordinary mind, knowing the answer to every question that ever drifted through your thoughts? Or how effortlessly he could make you laugh? Or maybe it was the ease with which you could gently tug at the edge of that serious mask, always settled upon your face, and lift it just enough to let a certain lightness slip inside? To breathe?

"You should just invite him somewhere," JJ snapped you out of your thoughts.

"I tried," you said, wincing slightly at the memory of that failed attempt. Well, not entirely failed...

"Are you talking about how you asked in the office, in front of everyone, if anyone would like to go to the movies with you on Friday, and almost everyone volunteered?" she asked, amused. "That's not how you ask someone out on a date!"

"What else was I supposed to do? Walk up and ask if he wants to go to the movies with me?"

JJ blinked.

"Yes? Exactly like that? I mean, that’s how it usually goes. I don’t know what’s so weird about it for you."

"I’m just not made for this," you blurted out, pressing your lips together. "I can’t stand the thought that he might say no, because maybe he’s not interested in me. Not like I am in him."

"No offense, but you're such a hopeless case," she sighed heavily. "In that case, you need to find out. Invite him somewhere, not necessarily on a date, just a casual hangout. Spend some time together and you'll find out if he likes you."

"What if he doesn't?"

"What if he does?"

After a moment of silence, you managed to smile weakly.

"Maybe you're right," you said, emphasizing the first word. And before saying anything else, you nodded, as if giving yourself courage. "I'll give it a try."

*

Well, you didn’t get a chance to put that plan into motion.

Work didn’t slow down for even a moment, throwing you back onto the jet with your team, deep in discussion about everything uncovered so far regarding the unsub and the victims. Hardly the right time to ask someone on a date.

As usual, the case file commanded your full attention, isolating you from the buzz of conversation around you. You always needed a moment to absorb and analyze the details on your own. The voices of your teammates reached your ears faintly, their words blending into background noise—until one particular sentence jolted your brain awake, cutting through like a baseball slicing the air.

"You’ve never been to New York?" you asked, directing the question to Spencer, seated beside you, shoulder to shoulder.

All eyes turned to him. Startled by the attention, he gave a small shrug and absently picked up the deck of cards from the table, the ones you’d been playing with before the discussion began.

“We’ve never had a case there before,” he admitted simply. 

You closed the folder, and the slight breeze it caused swept a few cards off the table from the game you’d been playing earlier.

“Why am I only now finding out that you’ve never, ever, ever been to New York?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. He furrowed his brows, clearly surprised by your emotional reaction.

“I grew up there,” you added.

“And why am I only now finding out that you grew up in New York?” he mimicked your earlier tone. Rolling your eyes, you tried to swat him with the folder, but he deftly dodged it.

“Seriously though, you never told me,” he said.

“Don’t worry, man,” Morgan chimed in from across the table. “She never told me, either. In fact, I’d bet she never told any of us.”

You raised your hands in a defensive gesture.

“None of you ever asked.”

"Does that bother you?" Reid asked, his gaze fixed on you, intense and unwavering. A strand of his slightly too-long hair had slipped out from behind his ear. You had the sudden urge to reach out, tuck it back where it belonged, away from his line of sight. "That I’ve never been there?"

"Of course not," you assured him with a quick huff of laughter. "You just have a lot—and I mean a lot—to catch up on."

"If only I knew someone who knew the city well," he sighed dramatically. "Someone who, for example, grew up there and kept that fact a secret for as long as we know each other. Someone who could show me around..."

"You’d want me to show you around?" The words escaped your mouth a little too quickly, a little too eagerly. Your mind flashed back to your conversation with JJ, to her suggestion that you should invite him somewhere. You’d been too nervous to ask outright, but this? Showing him around the city was a perfect excuse to spend time together!

You felt like an evil mastermind rubbing your hands together in triumph over a new invention that could turn half of humanity into rubber ducks. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to mask the disproportionate excitement now threatening to take over your face. 

"I mean, if we had the time. Who knows how demanding this case might end up being."

"Right," he admitted. Some flicker of emotion crossed his face—a flash of something unplaceable. Could it have been a disappointment? 

He cleared his throat, a soft, tentative smile tugging at his lips. "But if it turns out we do have time... I’d be very happy if you’d show me a few places."

You couldn’t hold back any longer and allowed yourself a brief smile.

“But just so we’re clear,” you began after a moment, your tone carrying a seriousness that didn’t quite match the expression on your face. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret. Just no one ever asked me!”

Spencer let out a small snort at that.

"You know, I think you're the type of person who could go over a decade without revealing your name just because no one bothered to ask..."

“Are you done with discussing your secrets? Could we get back to focusing on the case?” Hotch’s voice suddenly cut in, sharp and calm, as he glanced at the two of you over the top of his file.

In perfect unison, you both turned toward him, sitting straighter than ever. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Reid’s gaze for one more fleeting moment.

He wanted you to show him around.

Of course, that didn’t automatically mean he liked you. But it felt like it brought you a step closer to figuring out if there was even the smallest, most microscopic chance that he might feel the same way.

That hopeful thought was quickly chased by doubts—what if he didn’t?

You knew such thoughts would haunt you, tormenting and humiliating you in the quiet moments you were alone with yourself. So, you resolved not to dwell on them for the duration of your time in New York. Instead, you would focus on one thing —making him fall in love with the city where you’d grown up, the city that still held your heart even years after you’d left.

The discussion about the case had ended, but despite that, you continued to carefully examine the files. Well, not exactly them. On the back of the last page, a blank piece of paper, you started writing with the pen you had pulled out of your jacket pocket all the places you could take Spencer. You drifted through memories, trying to recall those places you had visited with your parents, the ones you had gone to with friends after school, the places you were taken on dates...

You crossed them all out. You doubted a sandwich bar would impress him. You didn’t know how many chances you’d have to go anywhere, so you had to aim for something really special. Maybe something that fit more with his interests. A museum? Or something more characteristic of the neighborhood where you’d be staying. A walk on the Brooklyn Bridge?

You felt someone’s gaze on you. You snapped the folder shut as if you had been caught doing something and saw Morgan staring at you with a slightly mocking smile on his lips.

"If you’re playing a tour guide, maybe you’d like to show me around too?" he asked.

You leaned slightly over the table, your face expressionless.

"I’m sure if you ask Garcia nicely, she’ll find you a guide online. At a good price."

"And here she is. The Ice Queen back in shape. Tell me, how’s it that just fifteen minutes ago you were acting completely differently?"

Amused, he shook his head, leaving you with the unsettling thought that maybe it really was that obvious.

*

“Alright. I’m a serial killer and a rapist. I stalk my victims by placing cameras in their apartment. Where do I hide them to get a good view of everything, but at the same time, make sure they're not noticed?”

"Reid, I’m begging you, never say something like that out loud again."

You and Spencer had been sent to the apartment of one of, unfortunately, many victims. All of them had been attacked in their own homes, with no visible signs of forced entry. That was the first puzzling element of this case. The second were the emails Garcia had found in each of the women’s inboxes. Emails suggesting they had been watched for a long time.

You made my favorite pasta for dinner. You should wear the red dress, sweetheart. Actually, who are you planning to meet?

The very thought of someone watching you in your own home sent a shiver down your spine.

“Apologies,” he muttered. “But I’m not under arrest, am I?”

“Who knows? It’d make for some interesting headlines. Or for the title of a true-crime documentary about you. FBI Agent on a Dark Path of Crime…”

“It’s Doctor.”

“My eternal apologies. Does mistaking your title also come with a sentence?”

“Well, we probably wouldn’t be sharing a cell, but maybe we’d run into each other in the cafeteria a few times.”

"I can't wait." You wandered around the apartment, peeking into every spot that came to mind. Since your back was turned to him, he couldn’t see the corners of your mouth curling upward. “You check the bathroom, alright? I don’t even want to imagine where that creep might have hidden a camera. I’ll be terrified to shower in my own place.”

Spencer gave a mock salute, as if you’d just given him an order. Well, in your tone, even polite requests rarely left room for refusal. But before he disappeared into the small bathroom with green-tiled walls, he paused for a moment, his fingers brushing the doorframe.

“That was a joke, right?” he asked, his voice shifting from light to soft and slightly concerned.

You turned toward him, arms crossed over your chest, not entirely sure what he meant.

“I mean…” he started, briefly scratching his forehead. “I just hope you’re not getting too involved in this case. I mean, you are, but not to the point where… where you’re scared afterward. Of being home alone. Taking a shower or…Does that even make sense?”

"That’s..." you began, trying your hardest not to say that’s sweet. The hint of concern that had flickered across his face, present in the way his eyes lingered on you. The fact that your offhand comment had moved him enough to bring it up at all. “Yeah, that does make sense. You know, considering all these women were my age and lived alone, just like me, it does feel a little personal. But don’t worry, I won’t let it stop me from maintaining proper hygiene.”

You tried to steer the conversation away from the unexpected seriousness, to shake off the weight that had suddenly settled over it. Well, you didn’t quite succeed. Spencer didn’t look particularly convinced—or amused. He gave a slight nod, barely noticeable and likely unconscious.

“I just wanted to make sure. That it’s not getting to you. Not… too much,” he clarified. His words grew tangled again. He dropped his gaze to the doorframe, as if contemplating whether to knock his forehead against it. “I’ll check the bathroom.”

You had spent far too long staring at the door behind which he had disappeared. Only shaking your head helped you force yourself to return to work. The victim's apartment wasn't huge; the living room, kitchen, and bedroom were all part of one room. You stopped by the kitchen area, where a large bowl on the counter still contained fresh fruit. Right next to it lay the apartment key, and although you should have been looking for cameras, you hesitantly picked it up. There was no keychain attached to it, nor was it part of a set of several other keys, as people usually did to keep from losing them. A number of disordered conclusions and theories crossed your mind, even though it was just a key, not a significant piece of evidence or something that shouldn't be there. Maybe the apartment's owner had lost the keys not long ago and had had one copied just before her disappearance, which would explain the lack of wear on it.

That lost set might have ended up in the wrong hands. Or it might not have been lost at all, but stolen.

Absentmindedly, you turned it in your hands, your gaze wandering across your surroundings. A very small space, with a real brick wall on one side and a shelf of dishes above the sink. You knew that the camera had to be somewhere in here, after all, one of the emails had referred to a meal cooked by the victim. Eventually, you stopped at a green plant on the shelf, just beside a stack of clean plates. It was artificial, meaning the victim didn't need to water it, which meant it probably hadn't been paid much attention to, and that meant it was a good hiding spot for a hidden camera.

You parted the leaves and took the small black device in your hand.

Instead of calling Spencer, who was still in the bathroom, you tilted your head back and with a sigh, headed toward the balcony doors, feeling a slight ringing in your ears. It was awful. The very thought of being watched in your own apartment, a place where you should feel safest, for an unknown amount of time.

You leaned against the black railing of the small balcony, which was probably there only because of the fire escape stairs running along the entire building. You just needed to breathe in some fresh air, spend literally a minute outside, but as soon as you looked ahead, that minute started turning into minutes.

After you arrived in New York, you immediately got to work on the case; there had been no time for nostalgic sighs over familiar streets.

You tore your gaze away from them only when someone’s silhouette appeared beside you, turned sideways to face you.

“Two cameras in the bathroom,” Spencer announced. As per your earlier request, he didn’t say exactly where they were placed, and after his words, a moment of silence fell.

You tried your hardest to ensure that no grimace passed across your face. You considered it unprofessional, getting too emotionally involved in the investigation, imagining yourself in the victim's place. But apparently, it even happened to the best of them.

“You really value your privacy, don’t you?”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, stopping yourself from rolling them.

"Are you still dwelling on what I said earlier? I'm fine, Spencer."

"I’m only dwelling on what I’ve noticed a long time ago," he said, ignoring your dismissive response. "Well, and also making sure you’re okay. But what I really mean is that you don’t talk much about yourself. I only just found out today that you grew up here. I’m not saying this in a bad way, I get that you might not want to tell me everything about yourself…"

"It’s not about you," you interrupted him, finally turning so you were fully facing him. You once again took note that the balcony was really small. You realized how close you were standing. The closeness that made honesty a bit more necessary. The closeness that made you swallow more often from the dryness in your throat. You cleared your throat, wanting to clarify your somewhat vague words. "I mean, it’s not like I have a problem telling you about me, it’s just… I don’t know, I’ve always been like this. I never really know what’s worth sharing and what’s not. I’ve always been better at listening to what others have to say."

Reid listened to your words with understanding written on his face. You had the feeling that he had become a little bit lighter. He glanced briefly at the railing, and when he looked back at you, he squinted against the sunlight that was streaming onto the balcony.

"I was a bit worried that your silence was because it tires you how much I can talk," he admitted, his tone betraying a hint of hesitation.

You almost let out a laugh.

"It’s actually quite the opposite, trust me."

With those words, you turned back towards the city, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I like listening to you," you added quietly.

You thought he wouldn't add anything more. That you'd both remain frozen for another prolonged moment on this balcony, with the cameras you'd found tucked into your pockets and the looming return to work on the case. That you'd step back inside the apartment, letting the chill in your cheeks fade along with their faintly rosy hue.

"And I..." he began, nervously shifting his grip on the railing. "I really like talking to you."

You strained your memory, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't recall any other day at work when you'd smiled so many times.

“The rest is probably still in the other victims’ apartments,” you stated cautiously, recalling the locations of those places. Speaking each word slowly helped you build the courage to voice the spontaneous idea that had just come to you. “We’ve found what we were looking for. Hotch hasn’t called us yet, so I guess we’re free. Are you...are you maybe hungry?”

*

Your knees had brushed against each other.

“Sorry,” Spencer muttered immediately, shifting his chair back slightly.

You pretended to be preoccupied with surveying the interior of the café. To be fair, there was a lot to take in. The décor defied categorization, with every wall covered in a different material and painted a different color. One wall was entirely obscured by an antique bookshelf. From what you could tell, the mismatch extended to the furniture; no two chairs were alike. Some were made of different types of wood, others upholstered in leather, and one even spun on a swivel.

In short, the place looked like the kind of room you’d stumble into during a fever dream—where two chubby cats braid your hair while you have a very serious conversation with a purple teapot trying to convince you to take out a loan at its bank. And somehow, none of it feels the least bit strange. In fact, you’d wake up from the dream genuinely considering the loan.

One of your hands rested on your knee, the same one his had accidentally grazed. You tapped your fingers lightly on it, keeping rhythm with the pop song playing faintly in the background. The other hand was tucked beneath your chin in a classic thinker’s pose. Except, instead of contemplating the mysteries of the universe or arriving at profound insights, you were solely focused on one pressing question: Who on earth decided to use such narrow tables? Tables that constantly forced you to be hyper-aware of the risk of touching his leg. Again.

“There used to be a sandwich bar here,” you said, tearing the croissant apart with your fingers. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t even consider that anything could have changed. Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Spencer assured you. “Actually, I didn’t realize how much I needed coffee until I caught the smell. Did you come here often?”

“All the time,” you admitted briefly.

You noticed him looking at you with a hint of amusement, which made you furrow your brows.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replied dismissively, turning the cup in his hands. “It’s just…I remembered what we were talking about earlier, and I thought this might be one of those things worth sharing.”

“Alright,” you said, rolling your eyes, though there wasn’t an ounce of irritation in the gesture. “I used to come here with my friends literally every Friday. It was cheap and relatively close to our school, and none of us had a driver’s license yet, so we walked everywhere, complaining about sweaty people on the subway. Do you think that piece of information is going to be useful to you in any way? Was it worth sharing?”

“Well, believe it or not, I absolutely do,” he chuckled. “Besides, you never know which piece of information might come in handy someday.”

You summed it up with another roll of your eyes, but a soft smile remained stubbornly on your lips. You were genuinely pleased with yourself for breaking the ice and inviting him somewhere, even if at any moment this brief reprieve could be interrupted by a call from your boss, demanding your immediate return. JJ had been right. All it took was just doing it.

“I promised to show you around a bit, remember?” you asked. Having scored a small victory, you decided to keep the momentum going and suggest taking him to a truly special place.

“The offer hasn’t expired, right?”

“It doesn’t have an expiration date. It just depends on, well, our work. I doubt we’ll be able to visit many places. So I’ve made…” you hesitated, unsure if you should admit to spending two full hours obsessively considering where you could take him and even writing it down in the case files. “I’ve thought it through and picked out a few key ones. Places I think you’ll like. So, whenever we have time, maybe in the evening… though no, some of them might be closed then…”

"Places you think I might like?" Spencer interjected gently. You stopped, surprised, unsure why he focused on that particular part of your sentence. "What about the ones that are important to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." he trailed off, making some vague gesture with his hand. "I was curious about the places you used to visit when you lived here. The ones that meant something to you. Are they on the list, too?"

You didn’t need to physically glance at the list; you had it memorized entirely and knew they weren’t on it. You had chosen the places solely with him in mind—his interests and your desire to impress him. You cleared your throat.

“We don’t have much time,” you gently reminded him. “I wanted to show you the really important places. The highlights of New York or something that would stick in your memory. Not some sandwich bar that, by the way, doesn’t even exist anymore, or a drive-in theater...”

“A drive-in theater?”

“You know, you drive up to a spot and watch a movie being projected. I absolutely loved it, really, but it doesn’t matter because there’s no way we could arrange something like that now.” you explained, your thoughts oddly lingering on the idea of spending time with him in a similar way. "God, I didn’t expect being a tour guide to be this hard. Not only do we barely have time for anything I planned, but my client keeps complaining the whole time..."

"Okay, fine, sorry," he raised his hands in a defensive gesture, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Apologies for wanting to spend time the way you would enjoy. What a jerk I am."

"Exactly, you should be ashamed. I’ll add it to your bill," you teased, taking a sip of your coffee, which you’d completely forgotten about. It had gone cold during your conversation.

"And now, completely seriously," Spencer began again, the sarcastic expression disappearing from his face as he looked at you with genuine interest, those brown eyes steady and curious. "I’ll let you take me anywhere you want. So, what places did you pick?"

You were internally excited to finally tell him about them.

But then, your phone rang.

*

The rest of the day was intense and entirely consumed by the investigation. Unfortunately, you didn’t uncover anything that could genuinely bring you closer to catching the perpetrator. In fact, you didn’t even have a profile yet.

Each of you felt a bit disheartened by the lack of progress. After all, every passing day meant a greater risk that another victim could be harmed in her own home. It was even more unsettling knowing that some woman was likely being stalked at that very moment.

Still, despite the mediocre morale and mounting exhaustion, you managed to summon enough energy and resolve to visit one particular place.

You were just returning from there, walking one behind the other down the narrow hallway of the hotel where you'd been stationed. You could feel Spencer's presence and hear his footsteps just behind you. In your mind, you stubbornly tried to figure out what you should say before you both retreated to your respective rooms.

There was a certain lightness in you, brought on by the release of tension through a pleasant evening, but also a heaviness caused by the weight of your feelings. It had been nice. It had been... wonderful. Yet, it hadn’t brought you any closer to knowing whether he liked you.

Maybe you should talk to JJ again.

You stopped suddenly, hearing Spencer let out a quiet sigh as he almost bumped into your back. You turned on your heel, slowly, feeling a dryness creep into your throat.

Spencer was standing just in front of you, his gaze shifting uncertainly between your face and the floor. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but immediately closed it, lost in thought. You pressed your lips into a thin line, determined to wait for whatever he might want to say.

“Where are you two coming from at this hour?”

The door to the room next to you suddenly swung open, and Morgan’s head poked out, a smirk plastered across his face as he looked at the two of you.

You both exchanged a brief glance before locking your eyes on him. The sudden presence of another person, standing in front of you with his arms crossed and curiosity in his gaze, made it painfully clear how close you had become to each other.

The most awkward thing you could possibly do now was to step away from each other. And, well, that’s exactly what Spencer did.

You didn’t even flinch, glancing briefly at your colleague.

“From the library,” you replied.

It was the truth. In a compromise between places that might interest him and those that were important to you, you had ended up there. And not just any library, but the largest one in the entire district.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, a warmth spread inside you. The warmth of walking among the shelves, barely catching glimpses of each other’s faces through the surrounding orange light of the lamps fighting to dominate over the engulfing shadows. The warmth of your clumsy attempts to focus on the environment, not on Spencer’s face, which was so mesmerized as he studied the books. His brow slightly furrowed, hair escaping from its place and falling across his face. Eyes fixed on one spot, pupils stretching across the entire surface of his irises, creating two truly hypnotizing points on his face, which you struggled to avoid staring into.

“From the library at night?” Morgan repeated, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “I knew you were a nerd, Reid, but you… I’m really disappointed in you.”

“Oh no, how will I survive this?” you scoffed. You saw Spencer briefly smile as well. “Anyway, goodnight, my dear coworkers. See you tomorrow.”

With those words, you made your way to your room, feeling somewhat like an escapee.

You knew that there were only a few hours of sleep left, and you needed to at least function a bit in the morning, so you immediately headed for the shower, grabbing something to change into on the way. Two things were on your mind. Was Morgan still torturing Spencer with questions in the hallway? And did Spencer enjoy your time together as much as you did?

As you analyzed your interactions with him, you realized there was an awkwardness you hadn’t noticed before. You never realized that awkwardness could be sweet. You’d always seen it as a purely negative feeling, something that caused embarrassment. But it could also make your heart race and cause your breathing to quicken. And dizziness, when you tried to control it all.

You felt like you had regressed to your high school days. You almost wanted to run to your friend and excitedly tell her all about the evening. For a moment, you even considered it, but JJ was probably already asleep.

You stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and when you pulled on a tank top and some loose pajama pants, you started gathering the clothes you’d worn earlier that day. As you lifted your pants, something small fell out of the pocket and clinked as it hit the floor.

A single key.

It took you a moment to realize that you must have accidentally taken it from one of the victims' apartments. Back when you discovered the hidden camera in the plant, you must have mindlessly shoved it into your pocket. A nervous pang of anxiety shot through your chest. You shouldn’t have taken anything from that place. Another sharp pang followed quickly after, as the sight in front of your eyes suddenly blurred, and something started to form in your mind.

At first, it was a shy thought. But almost immediately, it became a thought that needed to be discussed. Because it could push the investigation forward.

You rushed into the hallway before even deciding where to go. There, you turned in circles, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t an idea that warranted waking Hotch; honestly, you would’ve felt foolish going to him in the middle of the night with just a flicker of an insight in your head. So you thought of someone else—sharp in the way you needed, incredibly intelligent, and probably still awake, since you had just parted ways a mere fifteen minutes ago.

You knocked on Spencer's door.

“I have a theory,” you announced, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

His face registered surprise at the sight of you at this hour, his hand—still rubbing sleep from his eye—froze in place before dropping to his side. He must’ve just been lying down.

“A theory about what?” he asked, his voice a little rough with sleep.

Quite a pleasant rasp. Wait, no, refocusing…

“About who built the pyramids in Giza,” you huffed, the potential solution to the case accompanied by a little stress, and stress, for you, always came out in the form of a biting sarcasm as soon as you opened your mouth.

You slipped past him, effectively inviting yourself inside. Spencer was too surprised to step aside in time, so you inadvertently brushed against his side. Well, you didn’t want to have this conversation in the hallway, for fear that your voices would attract Morgan or anyone else.

“Well, it’s not really a secret, despite what some people like to think,” Spencer started, closing the door behind you and turning uncertainly toward you. His gaze quickly darted to you, sweeping over your body. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to focus. He must’ve been sleepy, and it probably wasn’t coming easily. “The construction of those monumental structures required the labor of many workers…”

“I have a theory about the case.”

You didn’t really think it would need further clarification. Without fully controlling your movements, you collapsed onto his bed, sitting at the edge. Suddenly, the confidence you had felt in the bathroom vanished.

He didn’t sit down, instead standing in front of you, his hands constantly shifting position. At one moment, they were crossed over his chest, and then, after a brief pause, he dropped them back to his sides. His gaze seemed restless too—almost strange. Sometimes it dropped to you, but then quickly changed direction, as though he was trying to find the right exit off a roundabout before giving up and returning to the starting point. That is, back to you. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to wonder what it was about your appearance that so intensely drew his gaze.

"Okay," he said slowly, coughing into his clenched fist to clear the roughness in his voice. "Okay. I guess that's a good thing. What's the theory? Do you need to talk it through?"

“That’s why I came here,” you replied, taking in a little more air than necessary, trying to logically connect the scattered conclusions that had formed in your mind. “Listen, it might turn out that what I’m saying makes absolutely no sense. But it might also turn out that it does have some logic to it. I want you to tell me which of these options you think is true. So... I couldn’t stop thinking about that key in the victim’s apartment, the one we were in. It looked brand new, like it had just been made. At first, I thought maybe she’d lost the old one somewhere. It ended up in the wrong hands. The unsub’s hands. That would explain how he got inside without leaving any signs of forced entry. But that would make sense if there had only been one victim. There were many, though, and it’s impossible for each one of them to have lost their keys recently. Unless they were stolen. Or maybe it was the loss of the keys that led to them becoming victims in the first place.”

The biggest mystery that had come up on your team’s path was how the unsub was even choosing his victims. They were all around the same age, all women, and lived alone. Other than that, they were completely different. They lived in different places, looked nothing alike, had different professions, and were of different races.

“So…” you continued, searching his face for any sign. Any trace of understanding, a hint that he was connecting the dots. Some confirmation. But Spencer just stood there, motionless, looking like he was only half present, his gaze fixed on you.

“I came to what might be...a bit of a bold conclusion. Maybe the unsub works as someone who makes spare keys. People come to him, including women. He picks the ones that fit his preferences, makes himself a copy, and that’s how he gets in to install hidden cameras. And then... well, to…” You paused, noticing his unwavering stare. “What? What are you looking at me like that for? Do you think I’m talking nonsense?”

He looked like he had suddenly snapped out of some daydream. He shook his head, scratching his chin, and taking a step in place, all of these actions flowing together in an incoherent, chaotic manner.

“I don’t think so,” he said after a moment. “It’s... interesting, and…you know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in something other than a formal outfit.”

Your eyebrows shot up. That was the last thing you expected him to say. While he had been fidgeting earlier, now he stood completely still. It was true, you usually dressed quite elegantly, not just for work. But you didn’t know why it seemed to impress him so much.

You didn’t know until you looked down and remembered your top. The one hastily thrown on, with a deep neckline. Seriously, was that really all about it? 

You sighed in disbelief and stood up from the bed.

"Sure," you let out a biting chuckle, though, despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, you could feel a tingling sensation creeping under your skin. "Tell a guy about your breakthrough discovery, and he won't even listen, too busy staring at your boobs."

You took two steps toward the door, but Spencer blocked your way, grabbing your forearm.

“Th-that's not what I meant!” he stammered in an unusually high-pitched tone, his wide eyes reflecting panic. Whether from your sudden reaction or the fact that you caught him.

His hand loosened its grip on your arm, just below your elbow, but he didn't let go. The way he held on brought you closer together, and the realization of how near you were, along with his face right in front of yours, stole the breath from your chest. You couldn't help but reflect on how everything so far had made you both close in proximity. First the narrow balcony where your shoulders almost brushed against each other, then the tiny table in the café where your knees kept knocking, even the way you accidentally brushed past him when you entered his room.

But this closeness wasn’t accidental. It was his doing, controlled by him, and, judging by the shock on his face after a quick glance, it seemed to surprise him as well.

He didn’t let go of you.

Instead, he focused his gaze on your face. You kept your head lowered, staring at his fingers gently holding your arm. You could hear him swallow softly before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy again, but this time not from sleep.

"I think your theory makes a lot of sense," he said. "And...it’s given me a lot to think about. It’s probably a man around forty years old. He works as a locksmith, using that job to gain access to his victims’ homes where he installs cameras. He sees these women as objects of his fantasies, and watching them provides him with some sort of fulfillment. His behavior stems from an unfulfilled need for closeness and control, which he can’t find in normal relationships. He’s socially inept, has low self-esteem, and a poor sense of self-worth. He writes to these women, idealizes them, sees them as his chosen ones, living in an alternate reality where he doesn’t see the boundary between fantasy and reality."

There was a moment of silence between you, as you analyzed the profile he had just presented.

"That's...impressive," you confessed slowly, still dazed by the sudden closeness, your gaze stubbornly avoiding his face.

"And that's all..." he began, but then suddenly stopped. The word simply dissolved in a hesitant, trembling way. You heard him take a deep breath. "And that's all while looking at your breast."

You suddenly lifted your head.

Never, not in a million years, did you think you’d find yourself in a situation where you’d hear such words coming from him. Your jaw slightly dropped, and a strange feeling spread through your stomach. You were not only shocked but also, in a way, on the verge of laughter because of the surprise on his face. It was as if he had said it by accident and didn't quite believe it himself. At the same time, something inside you tickled.

You let out a short sigh, sounding almost like a burst of laughter.

Spencer released your forearm, and as your silence dragged on, deep embarrassment began to consume his expression.

"Sorry...I don't know why I said that..."

You interrupted him by raising your hand.

"No," you said briefly, shaking your head slightly. "That was really impressive."

Confused, he studied your face. When you smiled, he hesitantly mirrored it, though he probably didn’t even know why—he was simply mimicking your expression.

Without turning back, you took two slow steps toward the door.

"You’ll have to present that profile to Hotch," you announced, resting your hand on the doorknob. Spencer still hadn’t moved, and his face bore a hard-to-decipher expression—part apology, part embarrassment, and part... something else. A certain spark.

Before stepping out and leaving him in that state, you glanced back at him one last time with a smirk.

"Just do me a favor and don’t mention the circumstances under which it was developed, alright?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself one more smile—this time a genuine one.

"Trust me. I wasn’t planning on it.” 

*

Hotch stared at you for a moment in silence, and the corner of his mouth…twitched?! For the first time since you started working at the BAU, you managed to make your boss smile.

 It would be nice to know why.

The next day, thanks to the conclusions you and Spencer had reached in his room, you finally managed to catch the unsub. Your theory about the locksmith turned out to be correct. And when you realized it was Friday, a certain thought crossed your mind. You just needed to clear it with the boss. Well, actually, you only needed to inform him that you and one other team member wouldn't be on the jet that day. Taking advantage of the upcoming weekend, you decided to extend your stay in New York for one more day.

A day that you could spend however you wanted.

The idea came to you so spontaneously that you hadn’t even discussed it with Spencer yet, but you felt, you hoped, that he wouldn't surprise you by turning it down.

The only thing standing in your way was that mysterious smile on Hotch’s face.

“Is that a problem?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

He just shook his head, returning to his usual expression. Though it seemed slightly softer, or maybe it was just your impression.

“It’s not a problem,” he assured. “Reid actually asked me the same thing about ten minutes ago.”

*

“Just, for the record, don’t mention to anyone what we used the company car for,”

"Do you really think I'd go bragging to the office that we used an unmarked police car just to have a place to watch movies at a drive-in?"

He barely caught the bag of chips you tossed at him.

"Just making sure," you said, climbing into the back of the car.

Well, it was definitely a pastime much more popular in the summer, which is why there weren’t many other vehicles around. And also why you immediately curled up under your cozy blanket, claiming almost all of it for yourself. The only source of light in that peaceful spot was the large screen ahead of you, with the movie beginning. But even in the dim lighting, you could see him tilt his head and slightly pout.

You sighed and shared the blanket with him. Or rather, you moved closer enough that the fabric could cover both of you. You added it to the list of situations where, once again, you found yourselves in circumstances that somehow required physical contact. It made you wonder if, somewhere up there, some force was orchestrating the universe’s chessboard in such a way that these moments seemed to happen more often than not.

Of course, not that it bothered you.

While you were still struggling with the blanket, trying to find the most comfortable position, Spencer told you a little about the awards that Roman Holiday had won.

“Sorry if I’m disturbing you,” he suddenly said.

“I told you, I like listening to you,” you reminded him, turning your face slightly toward his.

Finally, everything was perfect. The blanket wrapped around you in the most comfortable way, you could lean your back against the trunk and your shoulder against his. He was there.

“Yeah, but the movie just started.”

“I’ve seen it,” you announced. Somehow, you couldn’t take your eyes off his profile, even though all you could see was the outline of his jaw and nose, and the barely noticeable glint in his eye. “And I really like it. But just so you know, I didn’t pick it just to... you know.”

“Know what?”

“It’s a romantic comedy.”

He turned toward you, and you saw him flinch slightly, realizing that your gaze had been on him for quite some time. Spencer gave a slight shake of his head, furrowing his brows in confusion. You could have easily brushed it off, accepted that he didn’t understand what you meant. Probably, with anyone else, you would have. But you noticed that the more time you spent with him, the surprisingly more talkative you became. So, you continued without thinking too much about your words.

“What I mean is, I didn’t pick this movie to fit a date. It just so happens that today…”

“Is this a date?” he blurted out.

You stiffened completely, not just because of his question, but because of the genuine surprise in his voice. You wanted to ask, isn’t this a date? but your lips refused to open. Instead, you just stared at him motionless for a moment, hoping he might laugh it off.

After the conversation in his room, after he decided to stay one more day in New York for you, after you both chose to watch the movie just the two of you…Officially, neither of you had called it a date, but you had assumed that deep down, you both saw it that way. Apparently, you were wrong.

"The movie has already started," you muttered, nodding toward the screen. It had begun some time ago, but you had no idea how to change the topic. You had to do it because of the growing sense of embarrassment consuming you from the inside.

 You had told him you thought it was a date. It was like telling him you liked him. Which, in fact, was true, but you didn’t want him to be aware of it, especially since he didn’t feel the same!

“Hey,” he suddenly began, his voice a little strained. You pretended not to hear, staring at the screen. Spencer sighed and leaned forward to block your view of it, forcing you to look at him. His eyes nervously searched your face, you saw him swallow. “Is this a date for you?”

You wanted to push him away for asking the same question again.

"It doesn’t matter," you replied. Your tone was sharp but not aggressive. It was the same tone you used most days at work to make it clear to others that you expected to be treated with respect and that the situation or case you were working on was serious. "If this isn’t a date for you, then it isn’t a date. End of story. Can you move? I can’t see…”

“But I…” he began, not moving an inch. His forehead remained furrowed, and his brows slightly lowered over his eyes—genuine, still somewhat surprised eyes, trying to connect with yours. Finally, under their silent pressure, you gave in and looked at him. Spencer’s expression softened. "I didn't even dare to hope that this was a date!"

Something—some feeling—clung tightly to your shoulders, pulling them both forward, toward him, and backward, against the wall of the trunk.

“You’re only saying that to spare me from feeling awkward. And so we don’t have to spend the next few hours… the next day in an unbearably embarrassing atmosphere,” you stated, genuinely believing those words to be true. “Which I’m probably not making any easier. Maybe we should just forget it…”

 “Do you wish this was a date?” he asked, and you barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, you did. You wanted to scream it into his beautiful face. Spencer exhaled loudly. “Because I’d want it to be. I really would.”

You lingered in a moment of suspension, unable to decide whether to believe him. Your job had taught you not to always trust words. Just words.

 “Prove it,” you said softly but firmly.

Deep down, you didn’t know what you expected. And neither did Spencer, standing opposite you. Like you, he didn’t move at all. Only subtle changes flickered across his expression. Another crease formed on his forehead as he tried to decipher what lay behind your words. After a long moment, during which neither of you seemed to breathe, his gaze dropped to your lips. That’s when he understood.

You knew he was going to kiss you. You waited for it, ready to meet him, to gently place your hand on his cheek and feel the warmth of his lips against yours. You waited to sweep away the lingering question mark hanging above you both with one decisive motion, replacing it with a firm period.

Was this a date?

It was a date.

Spencer placed his hand under your chin, holding it close to him. Preventing you from pulling away when he momentarily broke the kiss. You saw the smooth flutter of his eyelashes as he shifted his sparkling gaze from your lips to your eyes.

“Sorry,” he rasped.

You couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“Are you apologizing for kissing me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows slightly.

He shook his head, a fleeting smile appearing on his face as well.

“I’m sorry for sometimes being so stupid,” he replied. “About these things.”

You closed your eyes again, letting out a soft snort of laughter. Suddenly, all of it—this whole dance you had been performing around each other, the panic when you realized you liked him, and the fear that he wouldn’t feel the same—seemed utterly absurd. But that’s just how people are, isn’t it? Looking back at the past with a touch of pity.

"Let’s agree on this. We’re both complete idiots."

Spencer was silent for a moment, lost in thought.

“We were,” he corrected you.

"We aren’t anymore?” you asked.

He answered by placing another kiss on your lips.

taglist:

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@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling @cynbx @penelopegarciaismygf

[bookyeom]

whatever you say, boyfriend - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.6k warnings: none really. lots of kissing author’s note: um… happy 2025? 🥲 i haven’t posted in forever, but here she is: part three! i would recommend reading both part one and part two for it to make sense :)

The knock on your door sounds. You’d been expecting it, but that doesn’t mean you’re ready for it.

You pad over to the door, opening it just enough to peek through, and when your eyes meet, Vernon absolutely lights up. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, the way his smile widens just at the sight of you. He’s thrown on a hoodie, his hair is tousled from the wind, and he looks so cute that you suddenly panic. He’s in front of you, he came. You suddenly can’t seem to open the door any further.

He stares at you, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly as you watch each other. “Are you going to let me in?” He finally asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe.”

Vernon huffs out a laugh, which makes you smile a bit, too.

“Y/N,” he says slowly, “I need you to let me in.” He’s grinning now as he adds, “How can we be romantic if you don’t let me in?”

Your heart stutters against your chest. You open the door wider, enough for him to slip through. You avoid his eyes as you shut the door, before you’re pressing yourself against it. He laughs again as he slips out of his shoes — ever polite — and the sound makes you look up.

“Y/N,” he says your name again when your eyes meet. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, and he takes a step towards you. He’s beaming at you in the softest, most confident, most Vernon-esque of ways. You could only ever dream of being so confident.

“Hi,” he breathes, and you can’t help but smile at that, letting out a soft huff of laughter. At the sound, his fingers find yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Hi.” Your voice is shy, timid even, as you return the greeting, but you don’t avert your eyes. You’re nervous, but this is Vernon. He wants this, too, you remind yourself. He’s all soft brown eyes and dark, long lashes, and you suddenly remember the last time you were this close to him. Your eyes fall to his lips at the memory, and he seems to be thinking the exact same thing, because it only takes him half a second to close the gap.

The kiss is chaste but it’s long and slow, his lips pressed to yours in a way that makes your toes curl. And when he pulls away and whispers, “Hi, baby,” you can’t help the way your knees buckle, just a little, before you recover and surge forward to kiss him again.

It’s you who tries to pull away first this time, but Vernon’s hand lifts to slide into the hair at the nape of your neck to keep you there just a little bit longer, earning him a soft gasp from you. You’re lost for breath when he breaks away. Neither of you speak for a minute, and you watch as his eyes trace lazily across your face. You know your face is flushed red, but somehow you can’t find it in you to care when he’s looking at you like this.

“Did you put on makeup?” He finally speaks, breaking the silence, and it takes you a second to register what he’s said.

You blink at him, your eyebrows furrowed as you say, “Huh?”

He repeats himself, smile growing. “Did you put on makeup since we called a half hour ago?”

Oh.

If you weren't embarrassed before, you are now. The smirk on his face lets you know that he already knows the answer to his question — and that it pleases him a great deal. You let out a whine, falling forward to rest your head against the front of his sweater in embarrassment.

“Cute,” he says against your hair. You whine again, pulling away from him and pouting. He laughs, squeezing your arms before heading into your living room as if he hadn’t just kissed you senseless in your front hall. You stare at him as he calls back over his shoulder, “You’re cute. With or without makeup.”

You follow him, embarrassed that he’d called you out but now reeling at him calling you cute. First, he’d called you baby with ease, and now he’s paying you flirty compliments without a second thought. You are not going to survive this.

You don’t know what you expected, but Vernon doesn’t kiss you again for what feels like forever. In fact, everything is relatively normal for a hangout with the two of you, except that he’s got you pulled into his side while you try to pick a movie. Or, rather — while he tries to pick a movie. All you can do is think about how close he is to you, about how much you want to be kissing him again. About how calm he seems about all of this.

Vernon seems to realize you’re not fully with him when he repeats his question for the third time. “Y/N?” He tries, a hand moving to squeeze your knee, and you jump a little. “You good?” When your eyes meet his, you know it’s over for you. He furrows his brows again, removes his hand from your leg and shifts away from you as he opens his mouth to say, “If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to —“

“Can you kiss me again?”

You’ve caught him off guard, you can tell, because his mouth hangs open for a moment, blinking down at you. Your cheeks are flaming red, you’re certain of it.

“Sorry! If you don’t want to we can just—“

“Baby,” he breathes out, voice low and breathless, before his hand is on your face and his mouth is on yours again. It surprises you, the fierceness of it, and your hand flies to grasp his wrist as he kisses you. He kisses you, slow and deep, pulling away after what both feels like forever and absolutely not long enough just to say, “You don’t even have to ask.”

It’s you that pulls him back in this time.

You don’t know how long you spend making out with Vernon on your couch — you don’t care to check. You think it’s hours, maybe, and you only stop when it’s physically impossible for either of you to breathe. When he pulls away, hair a mess from where you’d gotten bold enough to run your fingers through it, he simply looks you over, dazed smile wide on his lips as he does.

“Pretty,” he says easily, pressing another kiss against your mouth before settling back to take a breather. Somehow, that’s what gets you.

You settle back against him, much more at ease this time, but when you feel Vernon’s eyes on you, you know he can tell something is still up with you.

“Hey.” You look up at him, and he pokes you gently in the middle of your forehead. “What’s going on in there?”

You flush. You hate that he knows you so well. “I’m just…”

“Yeah?”

You’re silent for a moment or two. Your eyes fly to his when you feel his thumb gently pull your lip free from where you’ve been chewing at it.

“We just made out on your couch for a substantial amount of time,” he says nonchalantly. “I’d hope you can tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“See,” you protest, “that. How is it so… easy for you?”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

You gesture between the two of you. “This.”

“Well,” he says after a moment, “you're easy to be with.”

“Vernon,” you whine. “That’s not what I meant.”

He shrugs. “I mean it. Being with you like this,” he emphasizes, “is easy.”

“Okay, but how?”

You watch as he thinks before he answers, eyebrows knit together in that Vernon way of his. It’s one thing you love about him — he’s always been a bit of an enigma, but so, so patient with you when you need help figuring him out. “I don’t really know how to explain it any other way,” he starts after a moment. “I just… want to kiss you, so I do. I want to tell you that you’re pretty, so I do. I’ve been thinking about these things for so long that it just feels normal, I guess.”

You ponder his words, your tummy fluttering at his simple explanation. “How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you felt this way?”

Vernon hums, fingers lifting to run through his hair. “I’m not sure exactly when it started, honestly, but… it’s been a while.’

”I had no idea,” you admit quietly, and Vernon’s mouth quirks up.

”Clearly.”

“Hey,” you protest with a pout, and he laughs, but reaches out to grasp your fingers. “I guess I’m just unsure,” you say softly. “About what this all means.”

Vernon nods. “It means that I’ve liked you for a very long time,” he says, straight and to the point. Your cheeks flush, and he says his next words quietly. “It means that you need to tell me now if you don’t want to be more than friends.”

“I do,” you say quickly, and Vernon’s mouth quirks up at the side. “I just… want to keep you as my friend, too.”

“A friend you kiss and hold hands with and go out on dates with sounds pretty great to me.”

You smile at that. “Yeah, it does.”

He watches you for a moment, his face growing a bit more serious. “I’m still your friend,” he reassures you quietly, and you nod.

“A special kind of friend.” You’re smiling even more now, and his expression shifts to mirror yours again as you wiggle your eyebrows.

Vernon leans back against the couch. “If only there was a word for that.”

“If only.”

You beam at him from across the couch, and his eyebrows raise in a teasing challenge. You don’t mind letting him win this one as you break, as you close the distance and cuddle back into his side, the smile on your face so wide it hurts as you say your next words.

“Great. Now pick a movie, boyfriend.”

A/N: it’s been so long, so sorry if you don’t want to be tagged! just shoot me a message if you wanna be removed :)

@tae-bebe @wheeboo @waldau-archived @iluvseokmin @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @seohomrwolf @pan-de-seungcheol @minisugakoobies @wqnwoos @gyuminusone @christinewithluv @darkypooo @lvlystars @bewoyewo

Don’t be afraid to let me know what you think!

[callmearcturus]

dottie lasso is the final boss of the show (and ted loses)

someone commented on my ted-is-a-feminine-junior-too post about recognizing dottie lasso and what she did, and i'm a Johnny-come-lately to this fandom so i missed all the discourse

but surely it's been discussed to death that Dottie Lasso is the Final Boss of Ted's life, right? like, she shows up on that bench and you should feel the opening of "MEGALOVANIA" in your soul because she's the villain of the story.

honestly, in Ted Lasso, the main villains are: Rupert Mannion, Twitter, Rupert Mannion again, cisnormativity/heteronormativity, and Dottie Lasso, kind of in that order IMO.

"Mom City" is kind of a genius episode with its thesis and punchline. Because Dottie shows up and derails Ted's entire life and not in a good way. She makes him palpably uncomfortable and all of his usual kindness and interest is just turned off around her.

This episode isn't shy about reminding the audience that Richmond has become Ted's home. From the most fish outta water who nearly gets killed looking the wrong way crossing the street, Ted knows his neighbors, knows the culture here, and is defensive with that knowledge because it's been hard-won over time.

No but really, look at how UNCOMFORTABLE Ted is EVERY MINUTE of this episode. It's so stark bc this charm offensive Dottie's doing on everyone at Richmond is so clearly a Lasso Thing. This is the exact tactic Ted used when he was new in town and completely at sea.

(fuck this got long, there's a lot more under the jump)

But he isn't charmed or permissive or entertained, he never once Yes, Ands what Dottie says. In fact, he corrects her all the time.

jesus fuck look at this specific moment!!!

who the fuck are you and where is ted

because Dottie being here is a nightmare. she's the person who knows the Ted Lasso Source Code and the way she maneuvers and nudges him, he seems helpless against it. So he continuously separates himself from her in what feels to me like a fearful reaction.

Like, when Dottie explains where she's staying, she does this trick

DOTTIE: An adorable little hostel. I've met so many Australians. They are backpacking through Europe. So much sex. TED: Mom. DOTTIE: Not me, the Australians. TED: No, no, I get it, okay. How about you stay here for the rest of your trip, all right? DOTTIE: Only if I'm not a hassle.

This is such a fucking move, you realize? She has been in London a fucking WEEK without telling him, then as soon as she tells him where she's staying, she, a midwestern mom to her open-minded but very romantically private son, invokes sex so he'll be uncomfortable with the situation and invite her to stay. This is a chess move they should call the Wichita Shuffle.

And Ted absolutely hates the way Dottie lies about him. The connection is pretty straightforward; Dottie deals with her trauma and pain by covering them up with pretty little lies and melting truths until they fit the shape she wants them to be in. Everything she says in this episode is bullshit.

(points up) THIS INCLUDED, BTW. This is the Ted that Dottie wants him to be, the guy who will fall on his sword at the first sign of someone else's discomfort.

But that isn't who Ted is anymore and Dottie saying this is vicious and cruel. It's disrespectful to Rebecca, to everyone at Richmond, and to the work Ted's done with Sharon.

which oooooooooh

hey, anyone else remember Ted's "I love meeting people's moms, it's like an instruction manual on why they're nuts" from S2? boy that's a brick joke

and this bit of dottie saying her anxiety re: ted's therapy out loud, that hissing sound is a fuse being lit in this moment

Ted calls her out directly. He knows how she operates because she raised him in her own image. As I noted in the other post, Leslie Higgins is not the only feminine junior at Richmond, so is Theodore Lasso, son of Dorothy Lasso.

THAT FUCKING DARK CHUCKLE, THE "YEAH OKAY" MOMENT this is the fuse finally reaching the dynamite

this is the moment, this moment of push-back, implicitly the first time Ted's ever pushed back in his life

this is the moment Dottie takes every single thing she knows about Ted, everything she put into him, and she destroys his fucking life with the exact four words it would take to make Ted give up everything he's worked for, all so he'll go back to being what she expects from him.

and hell if he doesn't know it.

everything he's done for himself, all the space he's finally allowed himself to fill, the progress and labor he's put into becoming a better person

mom shows up and tells him no, you're coming back.

(and the fact Dottie Lasso, a character who has not said five truthful things this entire episode, tells us how someone else feels should be questioned very fucking directly. i don't trust this woman to honestly report on Henry's opinion of peanut butter and jelly, let alone if he wants his father to give up his life and return to Kansas. i know every single fic has brought up the question of "hey why doesn't anyone ask Henry what he wants" but that's because SOMEONE needs to ask the question instead of taking Dorothy fucking Lasso's word for it, christ)

I don't know how tf you don't read this show as a tragedy. Dottie Lasso is incredible, she's so pitch-perfectly written and acted, and she's absolutely the final boss of the show. And Ted doesn't win that fight.

hell THE SHOW SAYS THE QUIET PART OUT LOUD, i would put the screencap here but I've run out of images, but THEY FUCK YOU UP, YOUR MUM AND DAD, THE SHOW SAYS IT this is a fantastic tragedy, i love it

[muiitoloko]

Could you please write an imagine bring Alan’s gf and he has a meet and greet with a photo op and you surprise him. At first he doesn’t really notice who’s next in line, perhaps he’s preoccupied with something? Maybe checking his phone between fans because you haven’t been answering him and he looks up to see you’re waiting for him

Title: The Queue for You

Summary: Alan Rickman is thrown off-guard when his girlfriend secretly joins his fan line, proving that even celebrities aren’t immune to playful surprises.

Pairing: Alan Rickman × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None

Author's Notes: Thank you very much for your request!

Also read on Ao3

The bright lights of the venue reflected off Alan Rickman’s distinguished features as he adjusted his scarf and prepared for the next fan to approach. The meet-and-greet had been planned weeks in advance, and despite his love for his fans, today his heart simply wasn’t in it. His mind was somewhere else—on you.

The line of fans extended far out the door, each one holding books, DVDs, and memorabilia from his long and celebrated career. Alan did his best to keep his charm intact, smiling warmly as the next fan, a young woman clutching a copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, stepped forward.

“Oh, Mr. Rickman! It’s such an honor to meet you,” she gushed, her voice trembling with excitement. “Your portrayal of Professor Snape was... it was just so perfect. No one else could have done it like you.”

Alan forced a polite smile, his baritone voice steady. “That’s very kind of you to say. Though I must admit, Snape’s wardrobe wasn’t exactly designed for comfort. I often wondered if he secretly wanted to join Gryffindor, just for a lighter wardrobe.”

The fan laughed, clearly enchanted, and Alan dutifully posed for the photograph as the professional photographer clicked away. He tilted his head slightly, ensuring the fan was framed in the best light.

“Thank you so much!” the fan said as she stepped away, clutching her autographed book like a priceless treasure.

“You’re most welcome,” Alan replied, his tone gentle, though his heart wasn’t entirely present.

As the next fan approached, Alan glanced at his phone on the table beside him. Still nothing. You hadn’t replied to his good morning message, and now, by the afternoon, he was nearly unraveling with worry. He told himself he was being irrational. After all, you’d only been dating for a short while—just a few weeks. But Alan, ever the private romantic, had fallen for you faster and deeper than he cared to admit. And your silence gnawed at him.

The next fan was a middle-aged man holding a well-loved DVD of Die Hard. Alan immediately slipped into his professional charm.

“Yippee-ki-yay, I assume?” Alan quipped, his wry humor drawing a laugh from the man.

“Yes! You were the best villain in film history,” the man declared.

Alan chuckled softly, though it was slightly forced. “Hans Gruber was certainly... resourceful. Though, between you and me, I think he overcomplicated things. A good cup of tea would have solved many of his problems.”

The man beamed as the camera clicked, and Alan shook his hand firmly before gesturing for the next fan to step forward. His gaze flickered back to his phone for a brief moment. Still no message. His stomach tightened.

Another fan, this one dressed as Snape, approached with an elaborate costume and a wand in hand. The fan dramatically flicked the wand, reciting a spell with a mock serious expression. Alan smiled faintly, playing along. “I see Severus is here to make sure I haven’t forgotten my lines. Very kind of you.”

The fan laughed, and Alan posed for the photo, his mind wandering back to you even as he maintained his composed exterior. What if he’d said something wrong? What if his feelings for you were already too much? Too fast? He chastised himself silently.

As the fan moved on, Alan reached for his water glass, taking a small sip to calm his nerves. The meet-and-greet continued, a parade of enthusiastic faces, heartfelt compliments, and eager requests for selfies. Alan appreciated every one of his fans, but today, their energy couldn’t pierce the fog of his anxiety.

Finally, during a brief break, he discreetly checked his phone again. Still nothing. His fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to call you, but he resisted. He didn’t want to appear overbearing. He placed the phone face down on the table with a sigh, forcing his focus back to the line of waiting fans.

The next in line was a teenage girl clutching a framed photograph of Alan as Colonel Brandon. “This is my mum’s favorite movie,” she said shyly. “She couldn’t come today, so I’m here to get this signed for her.”

Alan’s expression softened, his natural warmth breaking through his worry. “A thoughtful daughter and good taste in films. Your mother raised you well.”

The girl blushed, smiling as Alan signed the photograph and posed for the picture. He noticed how her hands shook slightly, and his baritone voice softened further. “Do tell your mum I said hello. And thank her for her love of Jane Austen.”

“I will!” the girl said, her smile radiant as she stepped away.

His attention wasn’t on the fan waiting nearby or even on the polite thank-yous that rolled off his tongue. His focus was on the cell phone in his hand. He glanced at it for what felt like the hundredth time, still no reply from you. His thumb hovered over your contact name.

Would he seem pathetic if he called you now? It wasn’t even midday.

The murmur of the line shifted slightly, a fan stepping forward to stand before him. Alan only registered her presence when she spoke, her tone enthusiastic but warm. “You looked amazing in Gambit, Mr. Rickman. That movie is one of my favorites.”

Alan thanked her absentmindedly, his voice kind but distant as he tapped out a quick message to you: “Just checking in. Hope your day’s going well.” His attention was so split that her next comment hit him like a rogue gust of wind.

“And I must say,” she continued with a playful smirk, “your ass looked great on the big screen.”

Alan froze mid-message, his thumb hovering over the send button as her audacious words registered. Slowly, deliberately, he put the phone down and turned his full attention to the fan in front of him.

His hazel eyes widened slightly in surprise as they landed on you. There you stood, smiling mischievously, an amused glint in your eyes as if daring him to respond. Alan’s mind scrambled to reconcile the casual, flirty line with the image of his girlfriend standing in a fan queue.

“[Your Name],” he said, his baritone voice tinged with disbelief. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Your smile grew wider, the glint in your eye softening. “I thought I’d surprise you. Spent hours in that line, too. You wouldn’t believe how many fans tried to cut in front of me.”

Alan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as his initial shock gave way to a chuckle. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that my own girlfriend stood in line with my fans to see me.”

“You should be both,” you teased, stepping closer to the table. “I’m serious about that Gambit comment, though. Never thought I’d see my boyfriend’s backside with a whole audience.”

Alan laughed, a deep, genuine sound that turned a few heads in the queue. He shook his head in disbelief, his signature wry humor kicking in. “If I’d known, I might have reconsidered the scene entirely. Though I suppose the film had its moments.”

You leaned on the edge of his table, ignoring the curious glances from nearby fans. “Its moments? Alan, it was art. The whole scene was practically Shakespearean.”

Alan’s lips twitched into a sly smile. “I think Shakespeare would roll in his grave if he heard that comparison. Though, I admit, this is the best review I’ve had all day.”

The fans behind you began whispering amongst themselves, some even recognizing you from your own work. Alan noticed but didn’t seem to care. His attention was locked on you, his hand brushing over yours as he leaned closer.

“I don’t believe you waited in that line,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a more private register. “You could have just called me.”

You shrugged, grinning. “And miss the chance to surprise you? Where’s the fun in that?”

Alan tilted his head, his hazel eyes warm and full of affection. “You do have a flair for the dramatic. Perhaps we should find you a role in one of my next projects.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you replied, leaning closer. “Now, are you going to sign my photo or not?”

Alan laughed again, shaking his head as he reached for a blank headshot. “If I don’t, I imagine I’ll never hear the end of it.”

As he signed, he glanced up at you, his eyes filled with quiet gratitude. “Thank you for this,” he said softly. “For waiting, for showing up. I needed this more than I realized.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “Anytime, Alan. Always.”

The fan queue began murmuring more audibly, some snapping pictures of the sweet exchange. Alan ignored them, his focus entirely on you. For the rest of the day, his mood remained noticeably lighter, and he couldn’t help but glance toward the spot where you now lingered nearby, a supportive presence amidst the whirlwind of fans.

Later, as the event wrapped up, Alan made a point to slip away and find you. Together, you walked through the quieting venue, his arm draped over your shoulders as he murmured, “Next time, don’t stand in line for hours. Just come straight to me.”

You smirked, leaning into him. “And miss the chance to tell you in front of all your fans that your ass is great? Never.”

Alan chuckled, shaking his head as his grip on you tightened. “You’re insufferable,” he said affectionately.

“And you love it,” you quipped, earning another laugh from the man who hadn’t stopped smiling since you arrived.

[wingedshadowfan]

the arcane fandom will hate me for this one but i have to speak my truth !

i don't think vi is the "not jealous type":

i think ppl are just misreading her reactions in two (2) particular scenes and that's why they think so! so i'll talk abt those briefly in a sec

i think ppl have this impression of her having so little self-worth that she wouldn't care if her partned flirted w/ someone or someone flirted w/ them, which i personally hate to see! (and yes, she does have issues w/ putting her own needs first and taking what she needs sometimes, she's been shown to self-destruct in dire situations, and she'd put everything on the line to protect her loved ones but that! does! not! translate! into potentially being okay w/ your partner breaking boundaries)

the scene where she learns caitlyn is into women: first of all, caitlyn and vi are still practically strangers at this point so it's very early to say vi has any feelings for (let alone romantic relationship to) caitlyn that would warrant her feeling jealous!! there's perhaps attraction there ("you're hot, cupcake") but no possessiveness, for reasons other than "vi isn't a jealous partner"! everything in vi's behavior shows this entire sequence is power play to her and she's just toying w/ her food ("the undercity will eat you alive") - she's putting a piltover girl of status, an enforcer, in a situation where she has to do something she deems unbefitting ("i will not!" ) if she wants to achieve her goal, because vi finds it entertaining! piltovians getting their hands dirty, being desparate (think of sevika's glee when she's choking caitlyn in s2 and caitlyn bites her hand, resorting to behavior that's beneath her). vi doesn't expect caitlyn to actually do it - so when she sees her flirting with a girl, this is the first time she's proven wrong abt caitlyn! she thinks, "wow, so she's for real/she's got it in her". not only is caitlyn willing to put her pride aside for more important things, she also seems to be enjoying herself - a contrast to her previous uptight and nervous demeanor, and a sign she's going out of her shell and that this place might grow on her, as well as proof she's into women, which to vi is at least smth they have in common. (and no, i won't get into social psychology and theories of homosociality rn but we are all likely to like ppl similar to us/to what we know, esp when we're unsure of someone's personality, views or values)

the scene where caitlyn pulls away from vi mid-makeout - after vi has forgiven her and decided to ultimately take what she wants for once instead of just running after her loved ones and carrying the responsibility of their safety - to tell her she "saw someone": i wrote a separate post a while ago explaining why to me her simple wording is brilliant in making it very apparent that whatever her fling was, she was not only willing to be upfront abt it but it was also shortlived, she thought of it as a mistake, and it was now over. crucial knowledge, although it can be argued vi didn't process it that extensively at all. which, fair. but it also very much happened when vi was gone and likely hadn't forgiven caitlyn yet (despite having had feelings for caitlyn at the time, and caitlyn for her, which she was obv aware of). so her reaction (cait, i don't fucking care) was completely understandable. they'd only kissed once, before having a huge fight/fallout, and this was before they'd put (at least on screen lol) a label on their relationship - and while we don't see them do that after their sex scene either, we see them basically living together almost domestically after the war and i believe that's confirmation enough. i've also talked before abt how/why caitvi have never doubted their love for each other so i'm willing to bet vi understood the insignificance of caitlyn's relationship in her absence - vi also did some questionable shit in the meantime

so, do i think vi is the jealous type then?

short answer is: yes, at least the normal amount. (so less than caitlyn). because to me, it makes total sense that she would be!

she was so madly in love she was hallucinating caitlyn after their fight, which lead to her descend into alcoholism, pit fighting, style change, madness and anguish. and during that time she'd kept the enforcers badge and used the kiramman house banner as a blanket, like?? do you seriously think she'd let caitlyn flirt w/ others once they're in a relationship (not that caitlyn would) or wouldn't mind someone else trying to flirt w/ caitlyn?? bffr vi is not sharing

idk how relevant this is since it's not exactly jealousy but i thought it's worth mentioning that since vi has been shown physically using her body to defend or shield others (both defensively and offensively): she's definitely the type of gf to tell caitlyn "wear whatever you want babe, i can fight"

[ghouljams]

Ok, just wanna say that I love your Hephaetus!Nikto.

Just a few things I’d like to say about Aphrodite. Love the way you have them written, I am in no way trying to make you change your interpretation of them.

She is one of the oldest gods along side Poseidon. Their lore dates back way before Ancient Greece and yet Aphrodite still predates him. Aphrodite is not just a soft thing. She started the Trojan war dammit. And she’s been associated with War as well, and not just in the sense that she has a relationship with Ares but of herself (then again haven’t done much research on this part so I could be wrong).

And Aphrodite is of the sea. The sea is no tame thing. It is wild. She is the Goddess of love and beauty and I’m getting a little pissed at Nikto for thinking she wouldn’t find him beautiful when it is her literal job to see the beauty in everything. Like come on dudeeee!!!!

I think the way you wrote him also pairs kinda well with the way you have the other Olympians view Aphrodite!Reader. I’d wonder if Aphrodite!Reader will ever snap on them and show them what it means to be the goddess of love and beauty.

Also fun fact, the ancient Greeks had multiple names for love that all had different meanings. I personally don’t know them all, but from what I recall, Eros is what they call romantic love.

Sorry for blabbing on, you don’t have to respond to this at all, just wanted to vent a little.

Oh no you're fine venting, I think a lot of people often think of Aphrodite in a specific way (pretty goddess of love who just cheats on her husband and is vindictive all the time) and here's what I will say regarding the way I'm writing Aphrodite!Reader:

Neither the reader nor Nikto is a reliable narrator.

Aphrodite sees herself as this wonderful loving force but she still walks the battlefield, taking trophies as often as she takes lives. She views herself as innocent in all of this drama and rumors, but she's done nothing to stop them(It's nice having Ares talk about how beautiful and good in bed she is, y'know?) She loves Nikto but she also treats him a bit like a curiosity, waiting for him to come to her because, well, everyone does eventually.

And Nikto is stuck in his vision of being cast aside by the gods. He's trapped in their mockery of him, why wouldn't he assume his unwilling wife, who begged to be kept a virgin goddess right before their wedding, doesn't like him? Aphrodite forces their way into his life, into his space, disrespecting any boundaries he tries to put up, of course he's wary of them. But at the same time Nikto only sees the parts of Aphrodite that they want him to see, the soft, the gentle, the loving with sweet voices and stroking fingers, so of course he thinks they're a bad fit. He's every bit her opposite.

The Trojan war has yet to happen in the timeline of the hephaestus!Nikto anthology, but I keep thinking about it because it will feel very out of character for Aphrodite to start a war over something as petty as vanity, but that's only because we've been seeing her through her own eyes.

Also I will say I think a lot of my softening of Aphrodite comes from my disbelief at the way goddesses act within Greek mythology. You're telling me every single goddess is vain and jealous, that they can't keep their man from cheating on them, that the Goddess of love can't find anything to love in her husband, that Artemis would turn her back on her desire to remain a virgin because one guy looked at her the right way? Like the way that the goddesses are depicted just reeks of misogyny and that particular brand of ancient Greek hatred for women. IDK So excuse me for making Aphrodite a little out of character from the myths in my attempt to give her the benefit of the doubt where no man ever did.

[hiiikiko]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 [deadpool x spidey!ellie]

caught in your web m.list | tlou m.list

“You gotta trust me, Sheriff, I don’t know her at all!” Spidey yelled from behind the bars of the jail cell, her hands tightening around the bars.

A dramatic gasp echoed from behind her, “How dare you say that?! Throwing away all those late night rendezvous and nights full of passion and sloppy sex?!”

Ellie groaned and trapped the masked vigilantes collar, “Shut it, you’re only making this worse.”

“Ooh, I like it when you’re rough with me,” she giggled and wrapped her hands around Ellie’s arm.

Ellie knew there was no winning when it came to her… ‘Deadpool,’ ugh, what a stupid name. This chick was the absolute worse, the way she was obsessed with Ellie gave her the chills… not to mention how this chick knew EVERYTHING about her?? Even her name?? On top of all that, she was annoying as hell and a total poser! Like, come on! She obviously ripped off Ellie’s costume, right?!

“Sheriff, please, she’s the bad guy, not me,” Ellie groaned and slumped against the wall.

“Sorry, Spidey, but I don’t see a reason why a ‘hero’ should hide behind a mask like some damn criminal,” he chortled and took a sip of his coffee, exiting the room.

“This is all your fault,” Ellie mumbled and leaned her head against the wall.

“How did it all come down to this is what you’re thinking right, dear reader?” Deadpool turned to the wall.

“What the fuck,” Ellie quirked her brow and turned to see who the hell this freakazoid was talking to…. she was talking to no one.

“Well, it all started five hours ago when I met, Spidey, the love of my life, the apple of my eye, the keeper of my heart, my snuggle bunny, my baby kitten, my.. well, you get the gist. I was lucky enough to run into her at the police shootout, she was tackling some lizard man and I was passing by when I saw the glimmer of red… I quickly helped her and may have accidentally shot a few officers… but, who cares about that right? Anyway, we made our daring escape and to this alley where I found out she’s a girl?? Like, whaaaaaaat?? I found out because I felt boobs when I tackled her, although… they’re kinda small..”

“Hey!”

“Anyway, so I dragged her along to this amusement park where she proposed on top of the ferris wheel—.”

“I was trying to tie my shoe.”

“We shared a romantic dinner at the pier—.”

“You stole a slice of pizza from a old lady.”

“She won me a teddy bear—.”

“I was trying to escape through a booth and the bear wouldn’t come off my hand because of these stupid webs.”

“It was the most romantic night of my entire life,” she sighed dreamily, “but then just as I was about to kiss her, this dumbass runs towards a police officer and gets us both arrested, me for breaking a few laws here and there and her for being the best person ever?? Stupid, right?”

“Uh, no, you’re an actual murderer.”

“I’m a changed person now, honey,” Deadpool quickly turned to Ellie and nodded, making a heart symbol with her hands.

“You’re just lucky they didn’t take our masks,” Ellie groaned and flipped her off.

“Ooh what would’ve happened? Would you have put me in my place? Handcuffed me? Maybe spanked me?”

Ellie’s cheeks turned as red as her mask, “Shut up! J-Just find me a way outta here,” she grumbled and paced around the cell, looking for anything to get them outta there.

“Oh, is that what you’ve been waiting for? Why didn’t you say something, I stole that pig’s keys two hours ago,” she dangled the keys in front of her, Ellie couldn’t see her face but could feel the smirk radiating through the leather of her mask.

“You’re the worst,” she grumbled and unlocked the door.

“You can’t say that in bed,” there she goes again, Ellie rolled her eyes and pushed the door open.

“Here’s the plan, we—.”

BAM!!

“What the fuck!” Ellie yelled as Deadpool kicked the door down and quickly knocked the guard out, reaching behind the counter to grab her guns and katanas, “A warning next time, will you?!”

“Ohh, so there will be a next time then,” she giggled and tied her gun holster around her waist, “Can’t wait.”

Ellie shook her head and made her way for the exit, “I sure can,” she muttered as she exited the building and swiftly put as much distance between her and that deranged woman.

Upon returning back to her apartment, Ellie climbed through the window and flopped onto her bed, rummaging through her backpack for her phone when a piece of paper fell out… it read: ‘Spidey x Deadpool xoxo’ and had a picture that looks like it could’ve been drawn by a toddler of her and Deadpool making out… and not to mention the 136 page handwritten smut filled fan fiction attached to it..

“Gross,” she grimaced and threw it into the paper bin.

That was when Ellie decided to never, ever get involved with Deadpool again..

[a/n:] I FINALLY WROTE IT YAYYYYYYYYY, kinda short but I wanted to write something today :3

[frickingnerd]

maki confessing during an argument

pairing: maki harukawa x gn!reader

tags: accidental confession, silly & wholesome fluff, maki is bad at feelings, mutual romantic feelings, open ending

arguments with maki happen a lot, especially when she has a crush on you! maybe she doesn't even realize it herself, but since she pays so much attention to you, she'll easily find things to argue about

it's usually just small things that fluster her and then lead to her getting overwhelmed by her feelings and choosing anger as an outlet, like you accidentally touching her hand or looking a little too long at her

maki never means to get so upset and yell at you, but she's pretty bad at controlling her own emotions and her love for you is just too much for her to handle

she'll often scold you and raise her voice a bit, as she tells you to “stop staring at her like a creep!” or to “keep your hands to yourself!”, even if those things are just little accidents on your end

however, one argument with her in particular ends up different than the others, as during her angry yelling at you, maki lets something slip that she wished she wouldn't have told you…

after she caught you staring at her again, maki starts yelling at you, saying: “why do you always stare at me like that!? i hate that look in your eyes, it always makes me think you might like me– why did i have to fall for you of all people, someone who just stares like an idiot instead of actually talking to me!?”

maki doesn't realize what she just said, too blinded by her frustrations at first. only when you answer with “wait, do you like me too?” does her face turn red as she realizes what you just said

“t-too…?” she stutters out, suddenly having grown quiet, as she processes your words in silence

the moment it truly sinks what she just said to you – and what your reply to it was – maki stares at you in shock, before quickly turning away and running off

she has no idea how to handle her own feelings for you, so running away is all she can do! hoping that maybe you forgot what she said the next time you talk to her

or maybe hoping you didn't just forget about it and that you truly meant those words, so that perhaps you and her could be together…

[wlfhardinc]

@akhillaous This is in response to your comment because it’s too long to say it in a reply. Plus this will explain my post for everyone else

Ok this is going to be long. I’m not great at explaining so this won’t be coherent plus this would have been way easier if I had visuals but alas The song of Achilles is a book so I’ll just have to try. In season 1 I think Jayce has more similarities with Achilles and Viktor has more similarities with Patroclus. Achilles and Patroclus were very innocent in their beliefs and whatnot in the beginning of the book. Jayce and V too in season 1. However that’s when Thetis/Mel come in. Yes I know this is kinda weird- I don’t want to compare Mel to Achilles’s mom either but hear me out. Mel sort of manipulated Jayce to do what he did for her benefits . Thetis did the same to Achilles to get what she wanted. Anyway, when Achilles and Patroclus end up going to Troy to fight, it all begins fine. Achilles protects Patroclus as much as possible because Patroclus has no fighters genes whatsoever. Jayce was also kind of protective to Viktor in some ways. My point is everything begins well. Both ships have the same principles. Achilles vows to not kill Hector (because of the prophecy that if he does, he will die) which is what Patroclus also wants, Jayce wants to make the world a better place which aligns with Viktor’s ideology. It is only later on when Achilles starts to get too prideful with all of the newfound fame as aristos aichon (best of all the Greeks) He makes dumbass decisions and Patroclus starts to get a little pissed. This is similar to season 1 Jayce and Viktor. Also I just want to quickly mention the women. Sky and Briseis both have a platonic but great relationship to Viktor and Patroclus. Mel and Deidama both had a romantic relationship with Jayce and Achilles where it is unclear whether they truly loved each other. In the Song of Achilles Achilles seems to have been forced to have sex with her while other perspectives on the Greek mythology says that they loved each other. In arcane everybody has different opinions and perspectives on Jayce and Mel’s relationship. I think those are all the parallels I could muster up for season 1. Next is season 2. In season 2 Jayce=Patroclus, Viktor=Achilles. There are definitely more evident similarities in season 2 I feel like. Viktor obviously leaves Jayce, ending their partnership. Whilst Achilles doesn’t exactly leave Patroclus, they do get into more and more arguments and differences. Viktor goes back to the undercity and becomes Jesus 2.0 or whatever. Achilles becomes prideful and starts getting high on all of the glory he’s receiving. Although both characters still have the same principles, they execute it terribly which leads to some problems with their partners as we know. Viktor goes crazy, Achilles goes crazy. At the end because of Achilles’s mess ups and arrogance, Patroclus basically sacrifices himself. Jayce did the same with Viktor. In the end, Jayce and Viktor sort of die and just become eternal beings or whatever. Patroclus and Achilles are also both dead in the end and also meet each other in the afterlife, becoming eternal beings in a way. However in the Song of Achilles, Patroclus was at first not buried properly which is why he was just a wandering ghost for some time. When Achilles died his situation worsened as literally the only person who would have buried him was dead. Achilles was buried because everyone loved him so there was no way he wasn’t buried. It was only when Thetis decided to let him go to the afterlife that he was able to meet Achilles. I thought that was pretty similar to the ending of Arcane when people would write the names of their loved ones who died during the war and no one wrote Viktor’s name because the only person who would’ve was with him. Also as I said in my post, ‘historians’/the general audience will know both relationships as close friends or brother. I’m sorry that this is so badly explained but I tried my best😭😭

[defectivevillain]

friends & fan clubs

pairings (separate): Atsumu/Reader; Hinata/Reader, Bokuto/Reader, Sakusa/Reader

the reader is masc-intended, since he plays on the same team as the guys. he/him pronouns are used; otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.

summary: You're not the most popular member of the Black Jackals. Far from it, actually. You don't usually mind being neglected at the meet-and-greet events, but today you can't help but feel a bit disheartened.

Atsumu's snippet is the only one with explicit romance. Otherwise, these can be read as platonic or romantic!

Atsumu

"Atsumu's over there." You tell a fan, when she appears to look a little lost and awkward. She's lingering in front of your spot with a shifty look in her eyes, as if she's nervous.

"Okay." She eventually says after a moment. She averts her eyes. "I'm not here for him, though." She's planted firmly in front of your spot. Is she here to meet with you?!

"Oh!" You realize aloud. She must be here for you, then. That's... unusual. You're not accustomed to people choosing to approach you over Atsumu. "Cool. Um, feel free to take a seat, then." You offer.

There's an awkward silence for a few moments, before you break through it. "Sorry, I'm really not used to this." You admit.

"It's okay," she reassures you. "I just wanted to say that I love watching you play."

"Thanks." You say, slowly starting to get more confident as the conversation continues."Do you play at all?" You ask.

From there, your conversation continues for several more minutes, until your coach has to intervene and end the meet-and-greet event. The girl leaves you with a quick smile and a word of gratitude; you respond similarly and watch as she walks away, still feeling a little off-kilter. The other guys on the team are the ones who get attention; it's weird to be on the receiving end of it.

You eventually refocus your attention, only to find Atsumu standing where the fan was mere moments ago. "Oh, hey." You blink, wondering how he could've approached without you noticing.

"Hey," he responds. "Seems like you've got yer own fan club, huh?" Atsumu asks, raising a brow.

You huff. "Hardly," you wave off the remark. "Besides, a club needs more than one person." You point out lightly, a bit amused.

"I'll join your fan club," Atsumu offers.

"Shut up," you huff, embarrassed. "You're ridiculous." You roll your eyes. Atsumu pouts dramatically, and for a second, you can convince yourself that genuine hurt flashes across his face. But it's gone in the blink of an eye, leaving you convinced you imagined it.

And then it happens again—you get another fan. It's really strange. You definitely like it, though! It's nice to feel appreciated. You just can't help but feel like somewhat of an impostor, as you flounder through conversations with the social grace of a baby doe learning to walk.

When you finish up this conversation with a fan, you're surprised to find Atsumu making his way towards you again.

"Hey, did you hear the good news?" You ask jokingly, before he can speak. "I have a fan club now."

"Ah, nice," he says with a grin. The smile almost looks a bit tight, as if he's forcing it. You frown.

"You good?" You ask.

"Fine." Atsumu says, before murmuring something too quietly for you to hear.

You frown and lean closer. "What'd you say?"

"Nothing-!" He maintains. Before you can attempt to get the truth out of him, his brother is approaching the two of you.

"Hey," Osamu Miya greets you first, before turning to his brother. "'Tsumu. Makin' a fool of yourself again?"

"No." Atsumu asserts. His expression sours. "And hey, why'd you greet him first? I'm your brother."

"I see you all the damn time," Osamu says with a roll of his eyes.

"What brings you here?" You hum curiously, looking at Atsumu's brother.

"Ah, right," Osamu remembers. "Figured you'd want a post-game snack." He announces. You blink and suddenly he's giving you a takeout container of food.

"Oh," you say, surprised. You expected him to give something to his brother, not you. "Um. Thanks." You manage to remark.

"'Samu, what the hell?" Atsumu sputters, clearly wondering where his own food is.

There's a shit-eating grin on Osamu's face and you have no idea why. Atsumu looks furious, and his brother just walks away—sending a wave over his shoulder.

"What was that about?" You ask your teammate, a bit concerned by his reaction.

Atsumu growls, staring after his sibling with annoyance. "That bastard did that on purpose." He scowls. "I'll kill him, I swear."

"You want this?" You offer, holding the container out to him. Somehow, this is the wrong thing to say, because Atsumu only gets more irritated.

"No, that's-!" Atsumu chokes off, visibly upset. "Arghhh!" He storms off, leaving you to your confusion.

Osamu returns the moment Atsumu is out of view. It seems like he was eavesdropping. "Sorry about the sour mood he's gonna have," he huffs, looking at where his brother just disappeared to. "He's a fool." Osamu says with a shake of his head.

You just blink at him helplessly, unsure how to navigate the situation.

"Oh, right," Osamu recalls casually. He looks at you rather intently. "'Tsumu has feelings for you, ya know."

You stare at him in disbelief, looking for dishonesty or amusement on his face. But he seems entirely sincere.

"Give this to him, will ya?" Osamu then asks, as if he hadn't just shattered your entire world. You're sure your shock is showing on your face. "I was just messing around; I made something for him too." He hands you another takeout container of food. You manage to get your hands to take it, albeit with a delayed reaction.

Within seconds, Osamu's gone again. What the fuck? Does this guy have teleportation abilities or something? But no, if you squint, you can see him walking away. Osamu's just very... evasive, it seems.

You stare after him for a moment, before shaking your head and returning to the locker room. "Atsumu?" You ask, wandering around the room and holding the food containers.

"Go away."

Uh oh. He sounds like he's in one of his moods, just as Osamu predicted. You feel kind of guilty, despite having no idea what's going on. You wander through the space for a bit longer, before remembering the small lounge room in the corner. You tilt the door open.

"Atsumu," you greet him. "Your brother brought you some food."

"Just... put it down there." Atsumu says dejectedly. He doesn't sound like himself at all.

"I'm coming in," you announce, before opening the door fully and stepping in. You hand him the food container before crouching down to sit across from him.

The two of you eat in silence for a while, before you decide to take a chance. "Is this about your brother?" You ask your teammate. "He said he was messing with you."

"I know he was." Atsumu almost snarls. Then he shakes his head. "Sorry. I'm not mad at you." He clarifies.

"It's okay," you reassure him. "Siblings are annoying, I get it."

"...But, um, Osamu told me something." You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Somehow, Atsumu looks even more upset now. Damn it, you just destroyed any of the progress you made. "He didn't." Atsumu says pleadingly. "Tell me he didn't."

"He did; he said you like me." You manage to say. Your heart is racing in your chest. You set your food container off to the side—the two of you finished eating several moments ago.

Atsumu groans and buries his head in his hands. "I wish I were an only child..." He mutters, clearly distressed. You're immediately worried by his uncharacteristic vulnerability.

"Hey, hey, don't panic," you say, moving closer to him. You try to get him to look at you, but he's keeping his face hidden. He must be really embarrassed—you've never seen him look so despondent. "I have no idea if it's even true. But, if it is... I'd be happy."

His head snaps up with surprising speed. "What?" Atsumu asks, studying your expression and searching your face. "What?" He exclaims.

"I have feelings for you." You admit. "I'm not sure if Osamu was telling the truth, but if he was, then you don't have to be embarrassed. And if he was lying, then I'm the only one who should feel embarrassed."

He's tugging you into a kiss the moment you finish speaking. You place a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. His hands fall to your waist and he tugs you even closer, his touch sending heat up your spine.

"I can't believe this," Atsumu says when you break apart. He's looking at you with a mix of disbelief and adoration. Then he seems to come to a realization and he grimaces. "Osamu's gonna be insufferable."

"Probably," you sigh resignedly. "But, hey, we could pretend this never happened. Prank him or something."

"Nah," Atsumu says unexpectedly. He reaches for your hand and clasps it reassuringly. "I don't wanna pretend anymore." His thumb glides over your knuckles and you smile.

Hinata

"Hey, Hinata." You greet your teammate casually, bending down to begin taking off your volleyball shoes and gear. It's nice to be able to wind down, now that you're finally finished with that stupid meet-and-greet event.

"Hey!" Hinata says brightly. "How'd the meet and greet go?"

"Probably not as smoothly as usual, considering I was there instead of you." You admit with a huff, managing to get your shoes and kneepads off. Hinata's a lot more popular and likable than you are.

"Oh, come on," Hinata chastises. "I'm sure you did great!"

"Your relentless optimism is appreciated, Shoyo." You say with a resigned sigh, putting some sweatpants on and gathering your stuff together. Fortunately, today's match was a home game, so you can leave most of your equipment in your locker. Somehow, you end up being ready before Hinata is, leaving you to lean against one of the lockers next to his and wait for him.

"I'm just saying it how it is," he then says with a frown. He shrugs a hoodie on and gets to his feet. You realize you're standing a little close and take a step back to give him some space. "You're an awesome player!"

"Thanks." You say, a smile rising on your lips at the compliment. Hinata is super bubbly and positive, sure, but he won't say things he doesn't mean. His compliments are always earnest and genuine.

"Speaking of..." Hinata trails off, a devious smile on his face. You feel something lurch in your chest at the sight. "Wanna sign my volleyball?" He promptly grabs his bag and takes out his ball, holding it out to you.

"What?" You choke out, looking at the unmarked volleyball in his hands. "Why?" You look at him in confusion.

"I want your autograph, duh." Hinata responds easily.

"But no one else has signed the ball yet..." You remark, putting a hand on the ball and inspecting it in his grip.

"You'll be the first, then." He says with a bright smile. And gods, how can he just say those things? With those sparkling eyes of his? You avert your eyes, pretending not to be flustered.

"Okay." You agree, if only to get a reprieve from that adoring look in his eyes. Hinata smiles and grabs a pen for his bag, handing it to you. You uncap it and prepare to write something, only to pause. "Is this for your sister?" You clarify.

"Nope, all for me," Hinata grins unapologetically. Your skin feels like it's on fire. Has the air temperature gotten warmer all of a sudden? You resolutely focus on signing the ball, before acknowledging the remark.

"Shoyo, you're going to kill me one of these days," you sigh once you finish writing. Hinata just laughs, placing a hand on your shoulder and thanking you for the autograph.

...If you spend the rest of the day overanalyzing every bit of that encounter, then, well, no one else has to know.

Bokuto

You're one of the more inconspicuous players on the Black Jackals. Players like Atsumu and Bokuto—those with stand-out personalities and the good looks to match—often snap up all of the fans' attention. And normally, you wouldn't mind. But sitting at the meet-and-greet entirely neglected is a bit of a blow to your self-esteem.

You're a bit surprised, then, to notice that someone has moved to sit across from you. You look up, ready to greet the fan. But the greeting promptly dies in your throat. "Bokuto?" You say instead, staring at your teammate.

"Hey!" He greets you. He's energetic as always, practically buzzing in the chair. "I just wanted to say that I love you, like so much. Dude! Your playing! It's like... wow!" You stare at him for a moment in complete disbelief.

"Bokuto..." You then trail off quietly, embarrassed. Your shame and humiliation only seem to encourage him, as he promptly stares at you as if you're making his entire year by speaking to him.

"And your cut shot in the third set was so awesome!" He gushes, almost bouncing in his seat now. "I don't know how you bend your wrist like that, it's crazy!"

You just bring your head down to rest on the table, hiding in humiliation. His earnest praise is making you feel very flustered, for reasons you'd rather not elucidate.

"You're a piece of work." You tell him somewhat fondly, once the event is officially finished. Bokuto just lets out a hmph.

"Hey, that's no way to treat your number one fan!" He pouts, practically deflating before your eyes.

"I'm just kidding," you feel the need to clarify. It was a sweet gesture. "...Thanks. That was pretty cute, actually."

And he's back to normal again. He almost looks bashful. There's a light blush dusting his cheeks. Then he frowns in frustration. (Why is everything he does so adorable?!) "I just hate to see ya not getting the recognition you deserve." He says, sounding far too sincere. You blink in surprise, not expecting the comment.

"Oh," you say. "It's okay. I don't want a fan club or anything." It's true, you don't. You'd rather slip under the radar than hide a giant line of screaming fans like Atsumu always does.

"Well, you should have one anyways!" Bokuto insists passionately. "Hell, I'll be the president!"

"Thanks, Bokuto." You say sincerely. The memory of his eagerness and kind compliments stays in your mind for far longer than it should.

Sakusa

warnings: harassment (from a fan)

You don't typically do meet-and-greet events, because you don't quite know how to act. You're always a bit awkward—nothing like Atsumu or Bokuto, who can navigate even the weirdest of conversations with complete ease and skill. No, you've always been a bit too... reserved.

Normally, that suits you just fine. But now, as you find yourself trapped under this fan's uncomfortably intense gaze, you wish you were more assertive. She's been slowly moving closer to you throughout the conversation, leaving you to lean back until you're practically molding against the back of your chair.

She's asking you rather strange questions, too. You feel your fists clench at your sides as you try to keep yourself grounded. You want to tell her off, or make her get away, but your tongue feels locked to the roof of your mouth. Your surroundings are blurring and everything just feels hopeless, as the conversation just drags and drags-

"You're making him uncomfortable." A familiar voice says, cold and blunt.

The fan shrinks back, enforcing some distance between you both again. You can't quite hide your relief as you glance at Sakusa, who's looking particularly irritated. At least, you think he looks irritated—he has his face mask on, so you can only see the slight furrow to his brows.

Under Sakusa's watchful gaze, the fan clearly grows intimidated and eventually departs. You can't quite hide your gratitude as you glance over at your teammate.

"I see why you don't do these events." Sakusa acknowledges, something like distaste evident in his expression.

"Yeah," is the most you can get yourself to say, still reeling and a bit frustrated with yourself for not speaking up. You stare down at your trembling hands and frown.

Sakusa just scoffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Clean your hands." He suggests.

"Okay." You agree after a moment, if only to see the surprise flicker across his face at how easily you give in. You reach across the table and take a healthy dose of hand sanitizer, cleaning your hands. "Let's head back." You suggest.

The two of you start walking back to the locker room. It's entirely silent, before you eventually gather the courage to speak. "Thanks," you say. "For, y'know..." You break off, hoping he'll understand what you're implying.

"Speak up if it happens again." Sakusa says, in lieu of a response to your gratitude. "Tell them to back off." He continues, looking at you pointedly.

"I know I should," you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I just kind of... lock up. I always freeze."

Sakusa shakes his head disapprovingly. "You need to assert your boundaries, or they'll trample all over them." He says, a stormy expression on his face.

The two of you walk in a slightly more tense silence for a few moments. Then Sakusa does something so uncharacteristic you nearly freeze in place: he puts an arm around your shoulder. It's a light gesture, barely even tangible. You somehow manage to convince yourself to keep walking, despite immediately wondering what has gotten into Sakusa. He must be sick or something. He's never tactile like this.

When you reach the locker room, his arm falls away and he stares at you hard enough to melt your skin off. Eventually, you can't pretend to ignore him any longer—and you look over at him expectantly.

"That was a test." Sakusa explains. His hands are in his pockets again. "And you failed." He frowns.

"A test?" You question. You suppose that makes far more sense than anything else. "I was supposed to push you away?" You ask.

Sakusa nods.

"I didn't need to," you say before you can stop yourself. You didn't mean to say that aloud.

"Why not?" Sakusa questions, clearly disbelieving.

"Because it's you," you respond. "I wasn't uncomfortable." You trust Sakusa enough to know he would never have untoward intentions. The gesture was merely friendly—hell, it was hardly even friendly. He was treating it as a test, so there was barely anything behind it.

This time it's Sakusa's turn to be surprised. You can barely see the emotion—just a slight raise to his brows and a widening of the eyes. But it's clear he didn't expect you to say that.

Eventually, Sakusa just sighs. "You're hopeless." He huffs. Your teammate sounds almost fond—and for once, you think you're not just imagining it.

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[iminaworldofpureimagination]

the more I think about it the more I think the complaint of Vi in season 2 is coming from people who don't understand what its like to spiral into a pit of despair with no motivation to do anything meaniful. And her getting into fights via wrestling type situation does fit her character as we see in season 1 her getting into well.. a lot of fights.. mainly with seveika.. Vi lost Powder in a sense that she went from a innocent kid to a murderer who blew up a building so her joining the side to take care of what she blames herself for makes sense. I dont' think people get the GUILT she feels for all the death Jinx/Powder caused..

I just think her losing Jinx/Powder/ Caitlyn Thats two people she failed took a lot out of her in her mind she had nothing to fight for. Vi felt like she was nothing and had nothing if there was no one to protect .. And is grieving the lost of her sister and girlfriend and has to live with all the pain caused by caused by Jinx her baby sister who became a murderor and a kidnapper.. and a Terrorist.. all in less than a week and I see critics bascially going I hate tha Vi didnt save Jinx its ooc for her personality not be a 100 percent on jinx. But her goal was to save POWDER not Jinx. to her Jinx and Powder were not the same. Powder was her baby sister who wouldnt harm anyone.. onpurpose.. Jinx killed enforcers/firelights/blew up a bulding without any regrets.. that includes Zaun People.. that I noticed people Forget about.

vi spent what 8 years in prison with her goal being find Powder only to find out she became a murderor .. saw her kidnap a girl she had developed romantic feelings for .. and saw her blow up a building. in less than a WEEK.. and people will still go Vi sh ould have saved Jinx/ should focus on only jinx.. why does she care about her girlfirend all she should care about is jinx.. ignoring how much of a mental toll everything jinx did must have taken on her.

Then of course she can't kill jinx i couldn't kill my sib so i get that.. and caitlyn dumps her after being told she's acting like Jinx the very person who killed Caitlyns mother.. im not going to say she was right to hit vi.. it just seems that people take the whole thing out of context acting like she beat the crap out of her when that was acutally Ekko who beat the crap out of Jinx because Jinx killed his FRIENDS..

I just think people expect a lot of vi .. like her siste is a murderor.. its not up to Vi to save her it shouldn't be up to Vi to save her. the duty of a sibling isn't to save them its to be there for them yes but not when they're out there commiting murders.

And People forget this all happens in like less than a WEEK.. She's in her 20s and still hasn't discoverd show she is either.. 8 years in prison goes to find Powder/ Powder is a murderor/ her new crush gets kidnapped her crush mom is killed by Powder /along with other people.. .. She can't save Jinx she can't help Caitlyn kill Jinx because sibling love does run deep.. I'dknow.. so her wandering aimlessly without a purpose.. and im sure feeling very deprssed makes a lot of sense. Esp for those of us with Depression if you ever had a spiral and felt like you were sinking into a pit. I imagine for Vi its a 100 times worse . cause agian her sib is a murderor and her girlfriend dumped her.. rather callously. anyway i guess im just tired of criticism being. I'm not happy the character.. didn't do what I wanted them to do. as a lot of criticism for vi i see mainly revolves around its bad she got with cait shes toxic she needs to go after jinx.. jinx who is a murderor that kidnapped her sister and her sorta/girlfriend.. that doesn't scream toxic codependcy if vis whole purpose should be to save her sister.

I will say I am bummed Jinx was Tamed down in season 2.. Iwas looking forward to her being like her game character I thought thats were the end of season 1 was leading.. but.. nope. ohwell.

anyway that's all i gotta say about vi.. as someone who suffers depression i think her arc did make sense and wish that we got to see more of it outside of 2 minutes butohwell.

and honestly her and cait having sex in prison was the best sex scene i've seen in my 30 years of watching tv.. .. and was a long time coming since cait/vi had sexual chemistry since the episode they first met.. i dont belive vi knew jinx was suicidal vi was focused on okay im saving my sister.. then bam sister locks her behind bars.. she's feeling upset/emotional/is hurting and caitlyn goes into to be i knew you do this in a way that supports Vis choice. she supported Vis choice.. to let jinx go. Vi is overwhelemed with emotion and lunges at caitlyn,.. maybe some people hate it takes place in prison .. how it happens. makes sense to me. the idea that vi needs to be a character revoloving only on jinx is kinda maddening.

and I like Jinx btw.. preferred her in s1 tho..

[aliteralchicken]

just gonna expand on a few of your points and rebuttal some because I think you’re unintentionally trauma porning her a bit

Steph may be mad at herself here im not arguing with that but its very little if at all to do with the baby, she was already very mad before this scene because of the events prior to it (Tim showing concern for a female civilian after she got shot and being upset she doesn’t know that part of his life)

deans age is never confirmed yes so it is possible he’s is confirmed by DC to be a teenager, though he could be on the higher end, the text I used is from the Batman encyclopedia, Stephanie (who Chuck originally wrote to be 16, later changed to 15) was also driving, as was Tim at 14 but that was a special case

we know near to nothing about Dean because it’s not written, there’s nothing to ever imply he cheated on her or had even been with anyone else, you can’t just assume it as fact because you don’t like him, even if she had been cheated on in the past it could have been with a previous boyfriend and prior to their relationship Steph herself is very okay with the idea of Robin cheating on his girlfriend with her, Steph’s frequent accusations of cheating seems to be less about cheating itself and more to do with your previous point about her low self esteem

i never said Tim didn’t cheat on Ari, but this isn’t a post about him, Steph and Dean were confirmed to be dating, again we don’t know when this started, but timeline wise unless they were in a very very short relationship (which is possible) while that was happening Steph was flirting with, attempting to date and kissing Robin, which is cheating, I’m not a fan either but it did happen

Again you could be correct about Dean pressuring her but the only thing we know about the sex is from Steph’s own account, that is was more romantic to do it passionately rather than than think of any future consequence, it is possible Dean was the reason they had sex but also it’s possible she had sex with him because she wanted to feel more mature as someone who had to act mature, my personal interpretation is that she was hyper sexual due to her past trauma of Murray seeing her as a sexual object so young, but we don’t know the actual reason

I agree with your point about Steph’s opinions on teen mothers and it actually highlights another point that I forgot to delve into which is her reaction to Cynda Reed specifically, Cynda has already gone through the pregnancy and labour and is currently taking care of her daughter yet despite Steph not knowing anything about this relationship, not having her own baby yet and at this point had already decided to give the baby up (prior to considering keeping it) Steph implies Cynda, like her very naive friends (Dixon when I catch you) doesn’t understand the consequences of what she has already done, this scene is very interesting to me because Stephs tendency to see her own experiences in others is something that is highlighted in her superhero career, what comes to mind being her beating penguin because she saw herself in the little girl she saved, which I think is interesting to see in her civilian life as well

TLDR: a lot of your points could have happened but we don’t have enough implication or confirmation to say for certain

Correcting things I’ve seen people get wrong and lie about Stephanie’s pregnancy and her ex boyfriend because its slowly becoming its own fanon: (tw: for teen pregnancy)

Tim is not the father, I can’t stress enough how Tim is very much not the father, the father is her ex boyfriend Dean

We don’t know when they got together but Stephanie was dating Dean up until cataclysm, meaning she was attempting to cheat on him with Robin (though unsuccessfully) Dean wasn’t cheating on her

Although we don’t know if she dated them officially it’s implied Steph had more than one unnamed partner before Dean, he’s not her first boyfriend

Dean is not an old man, he’s a teenager, though Stephanie does have trauma related to older men (her babysitter Murray) and a very creepy uncle named Dave

Dean didn’t leave because of the pregnancy, he left because of the earthquake, Steph explicitly says that she didn’t tell him

Dean does eventually find out about the baby, though a significant amount of time after it’s already been given up, but didn’t know if it was his or not until he asks her

Steph didn’t beat Dean up because of the baby, she very explicitly says he’s not the one she’s mad at (she was mad at Tim) Steph also beats up another teenager Tito for the same reason

The sex was underage (Steph was 15) and unprotected but it was consensual, Dean was said to be a jerk but he was never harmful

Stephanie was always very against the idea of getting an abortion and would get very angry if anyone suggested it

Stephanie went to birthing classes (with Tim in his Alvin Draper disguise), she also saw a councillor at Gotham county social services, though temporarily, was able to homeschool and take her books home and had her mom supporting her completely

Steph declined an agency offering her money for a healthy baby, it’s unclear how many others she went to but the one she settled on was “st. Swithins”

Although she did consider keeping her own baby Stephanie didn’t have very high opinions of teen mothers, she called her classmate Cynthia Reed, who unlike Steph had already had her baby and was raising it, a “raging moron” telling Cynthia’s friends who were trying to be supportive they were also morons and should wise up (she also later calls them stupid)

During the labor Steph lost a lot of blood and the doctors struggled to stop the bleeding, she had to have her baby via c section, although it’s never shown in comic she would likely have a scar

Steph asked not to know the anything about the baby after it was born, but during war games she says the baby was a girl, its never stated when she was told, if ever, it’s possible she’s guessing the gender or that she asked Tim at a later date

the baby is never named, I’ve seen people say this panel is Steph asking Tim to help name the baby, it’s not, she’s asking him to hug her

What cemented the decision of giving up the baby was a nightmare she had while unconscious during labour, where her father took her baby with other rouges in order to introduce it to a life of crime and put it in danger

the actual baby is never shown on panel, only on a cover, so it’s possible she grew up to look like Dean rather than the copy paste blonde hair and blue eyed child Stephanie dreamed about

[wikitpowers]

the fact that ty is sure that he is in love with kit is making me go feral. like there is absolutely no denial of his feelings, like he knows knows. to have it officially confirmed is making me so emotional stop

[demigods-posts]

i'm one hundred percent certain that after percy and annabeth made out underwater. and he wanted to make their relationship official. the question was not "will you be my girlfriend?" but "can i be your boyfriend?" i don't care what the canon says. percy gave annabeth the space to take the lead in the relationship. because after a lifetime of being abandoned by everyone she dared to care for. and then watching her on the brink of a panic attack at the thought of losing him the last four years. he wanted to honor a new beginning between them by follow her lead and moving at her pace.

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

so this is why you dressed up nice today like fuck off