#classic this feels too intimate to share with anyone so everyone gets it

[trekkiehood]

.

[hwnglx]

this combo of sag and scorpio energy in him is crazy 😵‍💫

sunghoon's ideal type

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

shuffled song: stand still by sabrina claudio

physical traits

watery and striking eyes. (when their eyes just stand out, he thinks lighter colored or blue eyes are beautiful) classic and traditional beauty. conventionally attractive. powerful presence, turns everyone's heads. feminine and elegant. gorgeous and blinding smile. longer and flowy hair. taller height. water or fire risings! i keep seeing margot robbie or anne hathaway.

personality traits

the immediate vibe i got for sunghoon, is that he wants someone invested. and when i say invested, i mean fully. i've said this a lot at this point, but sunghoon has such a dynamic chart, which shows this clear difference in character according to who he's with. he can either be the most easygoing and laidback, or the most intense and passionate person in the room. just put his lover (or someone he deeply cherishes) next to him, and you'll literally see the gaze in his eyes change.

sunghoon wants someone who can handle his intense nature in love. someone who resembles it to a degree, because otherwise they might get overwhelmed or not understand it. he really needs his and his partners love language, and their values in relationships to correlate. he wants to feel like he shares the same passion as his lover, and not get the impression that he's the only one holding on so tightly, when his partner is just kinda meh about it all. he wants a deep and intimate connection, that goes beyond what anyone else could understand. he wants a person he can have a relationship with, that is separate from all the rest, and special and extraordinary in his life. he draws a clear line between the people he holds extra close to his heart, and his standard “friends”. there's this version of sunghoon only his lovers could tell you about.

he likes it when someone won't get intimidated by his intensity. who can hold their ground firmly, not falter under his gaze. he also likes someone who's just very affectionate and romantic. a person who won't be afraid or too shy to be direct in their display of love for him. he wants someone who knows how to love someone in a proper way, who's good at making him feel loved. i also keep hearing “mother of my children” this man is all about longterm commitment. he wants a family-oriented woman who'd be a good mother. responsible and reliable, but also soft and nurturing.

sunghoon loves the idea of a lengthy relationship. he likes sharing history and memories with his lover. i can see him liking the thought of growing old and maturing with his partner, going through various stages together. he wants his lover to be like an “인생 친구” which means lifelong friend. again, it'd give them this special ability to know each other in and out, have things or inside jokes only the two of them understand.

sunghoon also needs his lover to understand that, although he'll be incredibly zoned in on their relationship, he still has goals and achievements of his own, which he won't neglect for their connection. his job requires a lot of work and time, and the possibility of him not always being there 24/7 shouldn't be a problem for his partner. especially because, he truly wants them to trust him. he is not the type to cheat or look elsewhere if he's in a committed relationship. he wants his lover to understand that, and tolerate his personal ambitions. i can also see him liking the thought of his partner having their own ambitions. he enjoys the thought of both of them being goal-driven and hardworking, but once they come together, they can't see anything but each other. in comparison to some other people, sunghoon definitely likes his lovers to resemble him, rather than be entirely different. i can just see him and a gemini venus being extremely difficult. (funny because sunoo is one and yeah.. their relationship is rather complicated)

him as a boyfriend

+ he's a boyfriend who doesn't rush into anything. very slow burning energy. in the beginning stages, sunghoon will be very curious about you as a person. he prefers getting to know his lovers thoroughly first, really getting a grip on their character, understanding their desires and values before taking the next step. he wants to make sure you're on the same wavelength with him, and get this feeling you're the right one, before investing so much of himself into the relationship. he thinks deep and intimate connections between two people who effortlessly understand each other, require a lot of patience. you just have to know each other's every aspect, he'll definitely want to be the only one to know some secrets, you do not tell anyone else about.

he's an amazing listener. he'll enjoy sitting there listening to you talk about yourself for hours and not get tired of it. literally stare in to your soul while you keep rambling. only interrupt you to ask questions and deepen the conversation.

he's definitely a sucker for intimacy, especially in places where he, and no one would expect it. like whispering things in his ear in public could probably make this man melt. i also keep seeing him hold hands with his partner in public and literally squeeze the hell out of their hand, in this possessive manner. like he's telling you “you're mine and with me.” in a wordless manner. there'll be a lot of silent communication between you, you'll just get each other right away.

there's also a very considerate and calm energy to him, where he'll display this source of peace for you. this is something i've observed about scorpio placements, especially venus', they're very.. understanding towards overemotional people. they can handle people's emotional outbursts, and mostly don't get consumed by it. on the contrary, a lot of the times, they quietly allow you to get your emotions and frustrations out, validate your feelings and not make you feel overdramatic, and try to talk things out calmly with you. let's say sunghoon gets into a fight with his partner; if you start getting angry and throwing things and losing your mind, he's the type to just sigh and sit there and control his own emotions silently while listening to you. he'll probably give you a little time to calm down, and once he feels you're ready to be talked to again, he'll try and talk the matter out in a more rational manner. very emotionally mature and compassionate energy in him. (interesting since i remember in my collective enha ideal type reading, he seemed to struggle with this. he seems to have grown a lot)

- sunghoon can be very hot or cold. it's like once he's with you, everything's great and a fairytale and you feel amazing, but once he's away, it's easy to feel like he forgot about you. he's very busy, so it can be a common occurrence for him to forget replying to you, not talk to you for days, make you feel left alone, because his love can be quite addicting. it's easy to feel dependent on scorpio venus', because they literally make you feel like life without them would be awful. even if you confronted him about this, he could get discontent with you giving him such a hard time about something he can't help. sunghoon draws a clear line between his personal and professional life, which he wants his partners to respect.

i do not see him cheating or doing anything wild, he's extremely loyal. he will not look at any other woman if he's a taken man. however, sunghoon still wants freedom, he doesn't enjoy feeling like you suffocate him while he's working (like spamming him with calls and texts because he isn't answering while busy, that'd frustrate him) yet at the same time he got you to the point of naturally clinging to him. “you made me be like this!” is what i can imagine his partner accusing him of. it can just get draining to deal with someone, who has such contrasting values when it comes to love, and his own ego and career.

[ladybyakuya]

COLD CLOUDS.

cws ✦ fem!reader,yandere!vash, yandere themes, highly dub-con, dead dove, dark content.

syn ✦ Vash was just jealous. Yeah. . . Yeah, that's what Nai told himself when he saw you in his brother's arms.

✦ redirect to blog navigation.

Nai was always better than Vash, be it sports or academics. Although a sliver, Vash always felt that deep in his bones when everybody surrounded him to celebrate the victory, even after petty practice matches. Nai never admitted that in front of his beloved brother, he always brushed it off as an ordinary feat that anyone could achieve if they tried hard enough: he never wanted to admit his abilities; he never could. Why? Because it would break apart his brother's heart into pieces and in the life Nai has lived so far, he can wholeheartedly agree that it is not a good sight to behold or be a part of.

But there was one problem with Nai. He was not the good kind to have as a company. Everyone had come to know about it as time passed. He had an inducing effect on anyone and could coax people into doing things— sometimes good, sometimes bad, and sometimes vile awful things. He had that puppy charm in him whenever he walked, talked, or simply breathed. It was irresistible for everyone. So, in that regard at least Vash was ahead of him, better than him, and maybe, just maybe you would choose him because after spending most of your time with Nai. He was sure that you would scoop him out of your life. Plus, no one sticks around him for a long time. That is why he always had so many friends. He is not a good influence after all. Why you ask? Well, because Vash can see it like a movie. How Nai will never realize how you feel about him and that will get your heart torn apart. It would be so classic of his brother.

Life turned upside down for all three of you at the advent of last semester, especially for Vash. You chose Nai as your roommate instead of Vash. He would sit at the edge of the bed, or just on the floor and watch you greet Nai with a soft peck on his lips. Even with the dorm rooms being separate you never felt that way. Vash always had full access to the room you shared with Nai. After a month or two he even got a key to your room. Not that you minded. You never minded his presence. He was warm and harmless quite the polar opposite fo his brother. With him around, the study sessions were fruitful, whereas with Nai, things were way out of hand at times. He always ended up demanding several varied quickies after finishing each assignment. Why ? because you were irresistible to him.

And Vash would agree with that even though they always lock horns on trivial things. While Nai just needed an excuse to make it too big for Vash to stay a little longer in your room Vash would chuckle embarrassingly and leave because you never interjected to save him rather than just shift your short-lived attention onto him. He sure talked back but not too much whenever you were around. It would make him miserable. You never tried to save him from Nai or had any slightest intent to act as his shield occasionally. If not for him, you could have done that for Nai. It’s not healthy for him to get angry on pesky little things. Besides, you love him, don’t you?

Vash knew what would tick Nai off and what would not. So, sometimes he would purposefully get Nai jittery just so he could have your eyes on him. The way he felt for you has always been dormant, at least he tried to keep it that way until he started to hear your moans late at night. It drove him insane with want so robust that he started to hate himself. Why didn’t you choose him? Should he change his hair? Is that the thing that sets him apart from his brother? It couldn’t be only just the one-inch difference in all sorts of things.

At the farewell party, things got way more haywire.

It was Nai who suggested the idea, that you two could stay in the dorm to celebrate intimately, aloof from the curious crowd. When Vash could not find you or Nai anywhere. He had to stand in front of every locked door to check if you two were busy fucking each other and went straight to your room after thorough checking, even upstairs.

As he opened the door with the help of a key, Vash saw you lying on the bed. Half of your torso was covered with a bedsheet while your bare back was in full display. With your eyes closed he assumed you were asleep. He could hear Nai humming in the shower and man! He gets loud at times when he does that. God he must have fucked you and fucked you good because you are sleeping.

Vash gets under the covers letting his forelimbs envelop your warm body waking you up a little. “God. you’re insatiable Nai.” You coo as you feel rough hands grabbing your boobs and squeezing them. His lips rest on the nook of your head and shoulders as he inhales your scent in an elongated intake of breath. God! Aren't’ you divine?

“Umm-hmmm.”

You are still so wet, even your pussy is so sloppy and warm from being freshly fucked that he had no issue sliding his throbbing cock inside you. The way you arched suggested against his cock suggests how you were ready for more as he started to rut in rough calculated full thrusts — pulling out his whole cock out of your pussy, barely letting his cock-head stay inside and plunging it inside you with full strength. You are getting louder and that’s good. Does Nai always leave you unsatisfied like this? God, he would take such good care of you if only you were his.

“Why did you put on clothes, Nai?” You ask as you place your palms on his, interlacing his fingers with his since he was squeezing way too hard on your boobs. Vash does not respond but rather keeps rutting into you till it makes you let out a weak whimper of agony. Nai has never been this rough with you. You turn your head ever so slightly and the crescent vision of one side of a familiar pair of round glass had your mouth hug open in distraught.

But Vash was faster than you. His hand covered your mouth keeping you from screaming. He could feel the desperation and terror in your trail of whimpering voice but it was too palpable to turn him on so he quickened his pace.

The sound of the shower ceases so does the light of the bathroom after a few seconds. When Nai comes out of the bathroom, freshly cleaned and naked, Vash locks eyes with his brother. Nai stands like a statue as he sees your pussy clenching around his brother's cock who is half stood on his knees with your back pressed against his chest. One hand around your chin and the other around your stomach as he straightens himself stretching your naked body a little further. One strong pull and you would not be so lively anymore. Nai would just lose it all and he would love to see that. A grin broke like a plague upon Vash’s face as he cums inside of you in an instant as you rake away your eyes from Nai unable to comprehend why isn't he doing anything? why is he just standing there? And then, for the first time Vash came to know that the fruit of jealousy could be sweet too when you put your lips on his as Nai watched from afar.

tags.

networks | @interstellar-inn @the-all-stars-network @houseofsolisoccasum @pixelcafe-network @underratedcharactercorner

mutuals | @kentocalls @theoxenfree

[spotlightlowlife]

Blitzø vs. Charlie

why the little guy comes out on top.

We have two stories set in the same universe with two different leading characters who have both not long started up their own business.

Yet they're so different.

Blitzø is highly animated, obnoxious and aggressive with little regard for personal space, combative and sarcastic but dismissive too. It's easy to see him as mean spirited, annoying and an attention seeker, but for many attention seekers, attention is attention, good or bad, question is why are they like this?

What makes him arguably so likeable is that he's allowed to be annoying and make mistakes, as overbearing as he is its undeniable how much he wants his team and found family around him, his examples of compassion, support, good leadership and how hard he works to make thing work even at his own expense are clear. Then there's the major trauma that continues to unfold. He's also comical.

Blitzø has numerous connections and can place himself anywhere he doesn't belong. He has history in many places and gets around.

Blitzø and fellow lead Moxxie have the classic buddy cop setup. They're two very different people, Blitzø being the overbearing torment leader and Moxxie being the nervous, shadowed and more professional one, what elevates this common dynamic is knowing more about the characters, both are working hard at this new business, they take lives and enable angry sinners, Moxxie is doing what he knows dispite feelings often being mixed and Blitzø is in a position where this idea has to work, nothing tells us that this is his dream job, he gives off the impression of self employment seeming the only way forward at this point, something many may relate to.

We didn't need to know Blitzø's backstory to see that his desperation is a driving force. His business is entirely dependent on a reluctant exchange of sex for a temporary key to the door, an arrangement that was awkwardly made because what was the alternative? Blitzø placed himself between a rock and a hard place.

Though the plot digresses it has leeway to as Blitzø has to pull stings in order to run his business, he has little power but he does have a clue and knows how to shortcut his way up, however how far is up when sitting at the bottom of the social pyramid?

Charlie is nice. She's is friendly, quirky, isn't 'bossy' and she has the resources to be accommodating, she's a princess who believes there's good in everyone, they just need a break? That's why she set up her business? That or she wants to deal with injustice? Both work yet she seems to lack a clue, work ethic or fighting spirit. There has been no tough decision making and Charlie shoots down her own attempts at being assertive then moves on as if nothing happened, so if she did step up to someone, everyone's a dbag and she isn't so good for her, she can't go wrong. She is shallow but not to a fault, it's just a bit of dizziness, but she's not particularly naive.

Neutral doesn't equal grounded.

Charlie and Vaggie lack chemistry, they also lack content. They could be flatmates or coworkers because there's little to tell us that they're even friends other than Vaggie playing the role of the sensible one in the group, a role needed since Charlie is far from that. Little tells us that they're girlfriends, we don't see any leisure time between the two of them, intimate or wholesome, no casual chat, no known shared interest. The backstory given to Vaggie and her first meeting with Charlie offer a kind landlord and greatful resident dynamic.

Charlie doesn't appear to have any connections, it's like she, like the sinners, manifested one day, though we know this not to be true down to her having parents. The relationship with her parents is fine as much as the series has tried to place angst there and we have yet to meet anyone from her past, she seems like an adult (her and Vaggie go back years) and she's nice a d outgoing enough, where are her friends and what was she doing prior to the hotel?

Charlie having what may seems a pipedream and being able to set it up without challenge or sacrifice because she's privilege takes away from any progressive journey, though privilege doesn't have to be a take away, it is in Charlie's case because everything is layed out already, she sets out to rehabilitation sinners, yet she barely interacts with her targets.

Again with the landlord dynamic, there's barely any reason for any of these apparent acquaintances to hang out, had she been seen working to try to rehabilitate those in her hotel, good, but no.

The plot digression is immediate and there is a lot going on, so much so that it renders Charlie's work a sidenote. The leading challenges she faces are her own cluelessness and 'stubborn old people' disagreeing with her, rather than the countless less fortunate she could and frankly, taking into account the plot, should be helping.

Different is good, yet both of these seen to stir in a matching direction

Both attempted to set up an underdog and sympathetic protagonist

one is achieving this pretty well.

[electricsynthesis]

2 people validated me so. gender post. this is just whats currently canon to my canonverse au, i accept and & all transgenderism headcanons by the community because i love transgenders. In fact i hope everyone shares their transgenderism thoughts

pidge: trans girl, realized it at age baby and ended up with puberty blockers and HRT as a teenager. shes winning the gender game right up until she has to briefly detransition to sneak back into the garrison. she never does end up going back on estrogen because she ends up kidnapped in a space lion fighting fascists which is sad. she has an awkward relationship to femininity because shes expected to perform it somewhat despite the fact that shes kind of just an awkward nerd girl and it shows in her gender expression. her parents made a big deal of it (in a supportive way, happy and excited, but that veered a bit into "too much" territory regardless) but matt was just like oh little sister? sick. pidge doesnt actually remember her life pre-transition all that much. she was one of those trans toddlers who socially transitioned as soon as she could speak. her brief boymoding-at-the-garrison era was extremely eye-opening to her regarding social dynamics and not in a good way

hunk: trans guy. did the classic "didnt think much about it until puberty" in which he was suddenly seized with that dysphoric malaise. was very businesslike about the whole thing. came out to everyone in rapid succession in very anxious but short conversations. his parents were extremely awkward about it but ultimately supportive. didnt know how to explain it to their extended family. kind of let hunk figure it all out on his own. did pay for hrt and shit though so, trans win? lance was actually one of the last people he told and thats because he was worried about that interaction the least. lance was also extremely awkward about it at first (in that "oh god im sos sorrryyy i didnt mean to slip waaah!!!" kind of way) but pivoted hard into being all like Hunk my Bro my Guy my Buddy and it was really unsubtle but hunk appreciated the sentiment regardless lmao

lance: hes cis sorry. very much the youngest cisgender brother of a bunch of mean (cis) sisters. he was dragged into traditionally "feminine" things as a bonding ritual pretty young, and when he complained of emasculation he was swiftly mocked for being emasculated at all, because "whats so wrong with being like a girl?" which didnt actually help & actually made him really defensive of his more "feminine" habits (because he really does enjoy skincare & taking care of his hair & painting his nails and shit), which only fed into his wider cycle of insecure-and-peacocking-about-it.

keith: i think keiths relationship to gender is somewhat complex because keith is a queer autistic alien boy who literally didn't speak to anyone of the female sex until he was at least nine (when his dad died & his desert isolation childhood era ended). i dont think hes repulsed or confused by women necessarily so much as hes just confused by everyone all the time. i think if he cried too long as a kid his dad would ask him if he was a fuckin queer or if he was gonna man the hell up which certainly did something to his perception of gender but i dont think even he knows what hes supposed to get out of gender. i dont think he cares much about & or thinks about gender very much. i think he finds the general social dynamics of the subject to be vexing in an irritating way and tries not to think about it because it gives him a headache. He’s probably some flavor of nonbinary but he will never unpack that

shiro: hes a cisgender buff gay japanese man which is a whole conversation in and of itself but hes ALSO a soldier who works at a military academy (yknow prior to the alien abduction). i think shiro is very secure in his masculinity but he is also, as many cisgender men are, somewhat infected by the Weird Distance In Intimate Relationships thing. hes private and doesnt feel a need to prove himself but is burdened by how lonely it is trying to connect with other men. shiro shoulder touches keith for the first time and both of them feel a weird jolt. shiro can dedicate 3/4s of his life into bringing keith into the world and mentoring him but he cant say that or acknowledge it or he will die . a fascinating affliction. this is both eased and made tenfold worse after his time as the champion

allura: altean gender essentialism

coran: altean gender essentialism

[youremyheaven]

So idk what is it about but I’ve always had this idk really different relationship with tropical Scorpios mostly men.

I have this one guy friend and we’ve known each other since kindergarten even tho we weren’t friends at that time and are still in good terms. Out of all the friends that I have, me and him have been around since a very long time so we have a lot of tea that the others don’t know about. Our bond is also very strong like we’ll share tea with e/o never snitch. Out of nowhere in high school, our friends started to ship us like very hard, they’d always tease us. I was that one well behaved straight As student so my notebooks were always completed and updated so he’ll always borrow them from me. And he’s never been in a relationship and is not interested in that stuff I do know that it’s true since I’ve been there so… yeah. In school we used to be the first ones to arrive, it was mostly me who’d be the first one to get there and then he’ll be there and almost the whole school would be empty. We used to talk and talk like a lot and only like after sone time would anyone else come and then we’ll stop talking cause idk it didn’t feel right to talk in front of them as if they’re like interrupting something personal. This one time we were sitting with my other two friends and we’re just talking and he was facing me and in the middle of talking says that I have an eyelash on my cheek and let me tell you I felt something idk what but it was something. And there was this other time and we were alone and something similar happened. And idk what it is that we have but i do think that he feels something. He does like a lot of things like he’d treat me differently than his other girl friends as like talk to me more softly, do things for me, would kinda pamper me with stuff even tho I’d refuse. He’s also really protective over me as compared to my other guy friends. I once told him that in my uni there’s this guy who always stares at me in a creepy way and he asked me who it was and I sent him his Instagram id he sternly told me to talk to my professor about it and he made sure that I did just that. Even when we’re talking it feels so intimate and not really in the way friends would talk to each other. We never said or did anything that was inappropriate for friends to do but idk there’s something that we both know is there but we don’t know what it is. One of my friends who’s like really close to him too once asked me that why don’t I like him. It’s like everyone wants us to be together but idk.

His sun is in my 4th house and his moon is conjunct my Venus all in tropical.

this gave me teen Chinese drama vibes 🥰so cutee 😍💗

this is such a classic case of "everyone knows except us",,, GIRLLL drop hints, make him confess etc

Moon conjunct Venus type love??? THATS SOO CUTEEEE

Sun in 4h overlayy?? 🥺🥺its giving childhood sweetheart

i hope the two of you make mOoVes and get things goinggg 😍😍

[nel-world]

INT. NICK'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The room is dimly lit by a few scattered candles. Empty wine glasses and an open bottle sit on the coffee table. Nick and Anita are slouched on the couch, their cheeks flushed from the wine.

NICK (slurring slightly) Alright, favorite movie of all time. Go.

ANITA (leaning back, thinking) Mmm… it’s cheesy, but I love Roman Holiday. Audrey Hepburn just... she’s so graceful, you know?

NICK (smiling) Classic. I can see that. Mine’s gotta be Blade Runner. The original. The whole dystopian future, questioning what it means to be human...

ANITA (grinning) Of course. The actor with the dark, brooding taste. I should’ve known.

They both laugh, a little too loudly, the wine loosening their inhibitions.

NICK Alright, what about food? Like, the one thing you could eat for the rest of your life.

ANITA (sighs dramatically) Easy. Tiramisu. I could live on it. Just the perfect balance of sweet and bitter… like life.

NICK (chuckles) That’s deep. Mine’s pizza. Any kind, any time. You can’t go wrong with pizza.

ANITA (mock serious) Spoken like a true New Yorker.

They share a comfortable silence, the laughter fading into something more intimate. Nick refills their glasses, and they clink them together.

ANITA (quietly) Okay, your turn to ask.

NICK (hesitant) Alright, dark secret time. What’s something you’ve never told anyone?

Anita looks away, suddenly serious, the weight of the question hanging in the air.

ANITA (sighs) When I was younger, I used to sneak into my sister’s room and read her diary. I was obsessed with her life... she was always so perfect. I just wanted to understand her, you know? I felt... invisible next to her.

Nick nods, sensing the vulnerability in her voice.

NICK (pause) I get it. I used to lie about being happy, all the time. Everyone thought I was this confident, carefree guy. But I was just... lost. Still am, sometimes.

Anita reaches out and places her hand on his. The touch is gentle, comforting.

ANITA (softly) You’re not lost to me, Nick.

They sit there, hands intertwined, sharing the moment. The wine has done its job, lowering their walls, allowing them to see each other more clearly than ever before.

NICK (smiling faintly) Thanks, Anita.

ANITA (smiling back) Anytime.

They remain close, the room quiet except for the faint sound of the city outside, both of them realizing they’ve found something more than just a friendship or a working partnership.

4o

You said:

write another version

ChatGPT said:

ChatGPT

INT. NICK'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The room is lit by the soft glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. The remnants of a late dinner are scattered across the coffee table—half-eaten pizza slices, empty wine bottles, and a few crumpled napkins. Nick and Anita are lounging on the couch, comfortably tipsy.

ANITA (giggling) Okay, okay. I’ve got one. If you could watch only one movie for the rest of your life, what would it be?

NICK (grinning) Easy. The Godfather. It’s got everything—family, power, betrayal. Plus, Marlon Brando. I mean, come on.

ANITA (mock gasps) Of course, you’d pick a mafia movie. So predictable.

NICK (playfully defensive) Hey, it’s a classic for a reason! What about you? What’s your forever movie?

ANITA (thinking) Mmm... Amélie. It’s just... whimsical, you know? Every time I watch it, I feel like there’s magic in the world.

NICK (teasing) So, you’re the artsy type who believes in love and destiny?

ANITA (smirking) Maybe. Or maybe I just like the idea that life is full of little, beautiful surprises.

They share a look, the banter fading as a more serious mood settles in. Nick reaches for the wine bottle, pouring the last of it into their glasses.

NICK (sipping his wine) Alright, let’s go deeper. Favorite comfort food?

ANITA (smiling softly) Grilled cheese. But it has to be with tomato soup. My mom used to make it for me whenever I had a bad day at school. It just... feels like home.

NICK (nods) I get that. Mine’s spaghetti carbonara. My dad taught me how to make it when I was a kid. It’s simple, but it always makes me feel like I’m back in our tiny kitchen, just the two of us.

The mood shifts, the nostalgia in their voices making the room feel smaller, more intimate. They take a moment, both lost in their memories.

ANITA (softly) You know, I never really talk about my family much. I guess I’ve always been more focused on trying to get away from where I came from.

NICK (pause) I know the feeling. I’ve spent so much time trying to prove something to myself... I forget what really matters sometimes.

Anita looks at him, her eyes searching his face, trying to read the unspoken thoughts.

ANITA (cautiously) What are you trying to prove, Nick?

NICK (takes a deep breath) That I’m not a failure. That all this... the auditions, the rejections, the constant hustle... that it’s worth something.

There’s a moment of silence, heavy with the weight of his confession. Anita reaches out, her hand resting on his arm.

ANITA (earnestly) You’re not a failure. Not to me.

Nick looks at her, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. He feels a warmth spread through him, a sense of reassurance he didn’t know he needed.

NICK (quietly) Thanks, Anita. That means more than you know.

ANITA (smiling) We’re in this together, right?

NICK (smiling back) Yeah. We are.

They sit in the quiet, the connection between them deepening as they realize that their bond goes beyond work, beyond the stage, into something more personal, more real.

[olivebranchtherapygroup]

The Ultimate Guide to Loving Yourself This Valentines Day

It’s that time of year!

The time where it feels like there are hearts and chocolates and little flying Cupid’s everywhere we turn. Just like any day with a lot of expectations placed on it, Valentine’s Day can be difficult for a lot of us. It can feel like a lot of pressure to live up to, and if you’re not engaged in a romantic relationship, it can often feel like you get left behind!

So how can you make Valentine’s Day a more positive experience for yourself this year? In years past, we’ve put together a few ideas on how to dedicate Valentine’s Day to loving yourself, so this year we’re gathering all of those ideas for the Ultimate Guide to Loving Yourself this Valentine’s Day!

You don’t need to be part of a romantic relationship to fill your day with love and affection. Here are 11 ways you can do it!

Get crafty with your Valentines

Do you remember how much fun Valentine’s Day was in elementary school? Everyone in class would decorate a box and bring in Valentine’s and candy, and then everyone went home with fun little cards and treats from all of their classmates. When was the last time you let yourself have fun with Valentine’s Day? This year, instead of worrying about not having a romantic partner to shower with affection, go back to that childhood joy for Valentine’s Day. Get some construction paper and markers and glitter and make some valentines! For yourself, for your friends, for anyone whose presence you appreciate in your life.

Treat Yourself to Your Favorite Meal

Preparing food for a loved one can be such an intimate way of showing them love. It shows you took time to learn what they like, and wanted to prepare it just for them to enjoy. This Valentine’s Day, do that for yourself!

Take Care of Your Body

Take a moment to consider your body: what are you feeling physically? Are you sore or feeling achy at all? Consider what your body’s needs are this Valentine’s Day, and be intentional about meeting them with care. Maybe you need to spend the morning by the windows stretching. Maybe you need a bath to soothe your muscles, or an afternoon of restorative yoga, or just a walk outside.

Celebrate Other Relationships

There are so many kinds of love, romantic love is only one of them! Your valentine doesn’t have to be romantic, it can be you, or a friend! Take time to remind your friends and loved ones that you appreciate them, and that your life is much richer because they are in it! Remember all the other ways you receive love and care in your life that aren’t romantic.

What are your friends doing this Valentine’s Day? Share the ways you’re taking yourself on a date this year, and ask them to send pictures of how they’re spending their day back to you!

Try something new

Treat this Valentine’s Day as a self care day and a “free pass” day. You get to mess up today and none of it counts! Pick something you’ve been wanting to try (maybe making bread or learning an instrument, etc) and make it a solo date! Show yourself some love by letting yourself do something you’re not perfect at, and enjoying the time you spend on it anyway.

Spa Day

A classic self love activity! It’s been a very tense few years, so chances are you could use a bit of relaxation. Treat yourself to a nice spa day–you can do it at home with candles and soothing music and a bath or a face mask, or you could get fancy and book a day at a spa!

Move Your Body

Loving our bodies is a great way to show ourselves some love. And loving your body doesn’t mean just feeling attractive in it–it means literally showing love and care to your body. That includes getting it moving! It doesn’t feel good when we’re sedentary for too long, we can start to cramp and ache and it can deplete our energy and mood overall. You don’t need to do an intense workout, but find ways to move your body that feel good and fun to you. This could be walking a dog, going for a leisurely bike ride, dancing to some music, etc.

Write It Down

You don’t need a romantic partner to point out what is loveable about you! This year, take time to do it for yourself. What do you love about yourself? Write down everything you love or appreciate about yourself–no matter how small! There are so many things that make you unique and amazing, be sure to take time to remind yourself of them.

Just Breathe

Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to be about loving others, or having a partner. We want it to be about loving yourself. This Valentine’s Day, take 20 or even just 10 minutes to find some inner peace and try meditating. Let go of all your outside worries for a few moments. Focus on you and just you.

Wear Something You Love

Do you have clothes that make you feel extra confident? Like it’s an outfit that makes you feel perfectly yourself? Wear that today! When we feel confident in how we look, we innately feel better about ourselves. Even if your favorite thing to wear is a cozy pair of pajama pants, if it makes you feel good, great!

Consider Therapy

Counseling or therapy is a great opportunity to slow down and really focus on yourself. Remember, your emotional and mental well-being is just as important as your physical health. Even if you feel like you don’t have significant “problems,” sometimes connecting with a professional therapist can help you figure out ways to mitigate stress, maintain healthy relationships and otherwise navigate life’s challenges.

At Olive Branch Therapy Group, we offer many different types of therapy, such as psychotherapy and EMDR therapy. We appreciate each person as their own unique individual and therefore strive to find the type of therapy that best fits you. Want to learn to love yourself a little better all year round? Check out our professional team and contact us today!

[scuttling]

Paper Rings

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 10,191 Tags: SFW, Fluff, Literature, Friends to lovers, Everyone thinks they're dating, There was only one bed, Some angst with a happy ending, Confessing love in the rain, TW fire and blood/wound Summary: Some of my favorite tropes rolled into one cute fic inspired by Taylor Swift's Paper Rings. (lyrics and music) Link to A03 or read below! “Good morning, my friendly neighborhood crime fighters,” Penelope says as she enters the briefing room, wearing a dress that is bright bubblegum pink, with fingerless gloves and glasses to match. You, Derek, and Spencer groan your replies, because you just got home from a case last night, with less than seven hours between arriving at your apartment and returning to the office, and that is everyone’s least favorite thing.

You can’t deny that her typical sunny disposition makes you smile a little bit brighter, but you’re still exhausted, and even your usual extra large travel mug of breakfast blend is barely taking the edge off.

That’s probably why, when Aaron enters with trays of steaming espresso drinks from the cafe down the street, and a striped box of donuts, you act like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh my god, I love you. Thank you, I love you.” He got an array of basic drinks based on everyone’s usual orders, and you scan for one that has something with latte, but he takes one out and hands it to you, smiling when you take a sip and sigh—okay, he’s smiling with his eyes, but you are well versed in his body language and facial expressions, and he’s practically grinning at getting your order (triple one pump hazelnut extra hot latte) correct.

You are not the only one to notice.

“Get a room, you two; it’s just coffee,” Derek says, taking the white mocha from the tray and drinking half of it in one sip. “Now if you tell me there’s a bear claw in there, I’ll confess my undying love too.”

“I don’t know; I asked for an assortment,” he says, and it’s clear he did, but your cup has your name on it; you cover the ink with your hand and take another grateful sip. “I do know there’s a plain glazed in there, though,” he says a bit lower, just for you, and you smile, give his wrist a squeeze, and dive for it before Jennifer Jareau can get her hands on it.

That’s all the morning meeting consists of—bickering and bantering and caffeine and carb consumption—and when the group disperses, you follow Aaron to his office and sit down in the chair across from his.

“Thanks again for breakfast. You definitely raised the morale of the troops,” you say with a sip of your perfect latte, and he shares the hint of a smile.

“You’re welcome. It helps that you’re all so easy to appease.” He flips open his bag, pulls out a small, worn, paperback book, tosses it toward you. You pick it up, run your hand over the well-loved cover, and hum.

“The Call of the Wild—this made it into the Aaron Hotchner Nightstand Collection?” He arches a brow.

“It’s so overrated that it’s underrated; no one ever actually reads it, they just assume they know what it’s about. It’s a great book, if you’ll give it a chance.”

“Hey, you’ve read all of mine without complaint; of course I’ll give it a chance.” You take the last, sad sip of your latte and stand up, point out the door with your thumb. “Speaking of, mine’s still downstairs on my desk. I’ll be right back.”

Exchanging books started as an offhand comment one night, on a flight home from Georgia, when he’d mentioned that he never buys new books, only cycles through the same ten or twelve he’s been reading since college. He knows what he likes, finds something different in the text each time he reads, and you’d found something so profoundly beautiful about that that you’d asked for the list. You wanted to know more about the books that tug at his emotions enough that he’s read them day in and day out for over twenty years with no boredom in sight.

He’d done you one better, said he’d be happy to lend them to you, if you’d like, and that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Seeing college-aged Aaron’s notes in the margins of battered paperback novels was a prospect too good to be true.

Of course, you couldn’t accept the gesture without returning one of your own, so you’d offered to share your favorite books with him too, only... you don’t exactly give him your favorite books. You purposefully buy the cheesiest romance novels you can get your hands on, pass them off to him while he hands you poignant, classic novels that have won literary awards and Nobel prizes.

Today’s is called Lord of Scoundrels, complete with a shirtless man on the cover, kissing a woman with dark, flowing hair and a light blue dress; you snicker the whole way to your desk and back up to his office—earning curious glances from the rest of the team—and when you drop it on the desk in front of Aaron, you watch closely for a reaction.

As usual, he doesn’t really give you one, just flips the book over, skims the summary on the back, and nods.

“Sounds interesting,” he says, and your heart does a little flip.

He could easily hand the book back, laugh in your face, refuse to read something so clearly out of his wheelhouse, but he thinks these novels are important to you, and he never fails to read them, offering his favorite parts the same way you do for his.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t.

“I think you’ll really like it. Sebastian and Jessica start out kind of indifferent toward each other, but the more they interact, the more they find they have in common. It’s very acquaintances to friends to lovers, if you’re into that.” He looks up with an expression you place as uncertainty, even if you’re not quite sure the reason for it. You smile softly. “I should get to work, but thanks for the book. I’ll see you at lunch?”

It’s been so nice lately that you started taking your lunch outside, sitting on a bench beneath a huge, shady oak tree, and Aaron had taken to doing the same; you both quickly realized it was stupid to sit outside together, apart, so you meet up in the bullpen now and walk out side by side, spend the hour talking about your books or the team or Jack or life in general. He shakes the uncertain expression, nods his head.

“Of course. Thank you,” he says with a wave of the book, and you head back downstairs to start your day.

You’ve become mostly accustomed to the feeling, but it still surprises you a little when all that gets you through the day is thinking about your next conversation with Aaron. A week later, you’re on a case in Pittsburgh, and you and Aaron are paired up to room together. That’s nothing unusual—it seems like you’ve been rooming together more often than not lately, which is fine by you; he’s tidy, quiet, always interested in a late night snack, pretty much the perfect roommate—but when he opens the door and you step inside, the single king size bed in the middle of the room takes you by surprise.

“Uh… do you think it’s a mistake? Or maybe they just ran out of doubles?” you suggest; he's kind of frozen in place, and while it’s not ideal, you know it’s not actually going to be a problem. You’ve shared a bed with JJ before, and Spencer, and even though you don’t feel the same way about them as you do about Aaron, you think you can manage a couple nights in close quarters.

“Probably just ran out of doubles,” he agrees after a moment; he doesn’t bring up calling the front desk to ask for another room, so you don’t either, just hang your clothes and head into the bathroom to change into your pajamas and do your nightly routine.

It’s a little awkward at first, and you don’t know why; over the last six months or so, he’s actually become your closest friend on the team, and conversation usually comes easily, but silence settles over the room uncomfortably as you slip between the sheets on your side of the bed.

He goes into the bathroom, does his own nightly routine, then comes out in his pajamas and turns on CNN.

You take out your book, pay no attention to Aaron, but the longer he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the news ticker on the television screen but not actually watching it, the more you wish he’d just get over himself and come to bed. If he’s trying to wait for you to fall asleep, he’s going to be waiting a while.

“So you were right; I love Buck,” you say as a way to start some conversation, to bring some normalcy to this unusual situation. You hold up the book you’re reading, the one he let you borrow. “His struggle between remaining loyal to his owner and answering the call of the wild—I love dogs, but I never imagined a book about a dog could be so moving.”

He turns back with a soft smile, then switches off the tv and heads over to his side of the bed; he pulls back the comforter, slides between the sheets, meets you toward the middle of the bed.

“I told you you’d like it; what chapter are you on?” He leans over to look, so close it wouldn’t take much to lift a hand and brush it over his hair; it looks unfairly soft, and part of you wants to card your fingers through it, to tug on it and mess it up a little. He probably wouldn’t even mind if you did.

“Chapter 7—I only have a few pages left.” You snuggle more comfortably against your pillow, lean into his shoulder, and move the book so it’s more evenly between you. “Want to finish it with me?”

He does, and you read silently at a similar pace; he reaches up to turn the pages, and you think about how these hands have flipped through this book so many times before, what he might have been thinking, feeling, while reading. It’s a more intimate act than you’ve shared with anyone in a really long time.

When you finish the book, you sigh, let the feeling of reading a really great story envelope you; you turn to face Aaron, and he’s looking at you… and then there’s a knock at the door that startles you both.

He gets up, walks over and checks the peep hole, then opens the door.

“Are you sure?” you hear JJ ask, and he steps back so she can enter the room; when she sees you tucked snugly into the middle of the bed, she shoots you a soft smile and mouths you’re welcome, which makes absolutely no sense without context. You’ll have to bring it up to her later and ask what exactly you’re supposed to be thanking her for.

“So you said the detective called?” Aaron prompts her, and she looks away from you, nods.

“Yes, he wanted me to ask if we could have a few agents meet him at the second crime scene tomorrow instead of the precinct, figured it could save a little time.” Aaron looks confused, like he doesn’t see why this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow, but he ultimately agrees.

“Sure. You, Reid, and Prentiss can head straight there, if that’s what he wants. I’ll let them know in the morning.” JJ nods, and looks over at you, and then back at Aaron, who makes a kind but curious face. “Was there something else?”

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s it. I just didn’t want to forget. I’ll let you guys go—enjoy the rest of your night,” she says with a smile and a wave, and when he closes the door behind her, you both exchange a look.

She’s definitely acting a little weird, but it’s late, so you give her the benefit of the doubt.

You scoot over to your side, put the book on the nightstand and switch off your lamp; Aaron climbs back into bed and switches his off, too, and he turns to face the wall while you lay on your back and stare at the ceiling.

It takes about half an hour, but he falls asleep first; you turn to face him, watching his back, following the rise and fall as he softly breathes in sleep, and the peaceful rhythm lulls you into submission, and you drift off as well.

When you wake up a couple hours later, he is on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow, and you are draped over his back with your cheek against his t-shirt. It’s soft, and warm, and smells like him, and you glance at the clock and realize it’s too early to do anything but get comfortable and fall back asleep, so that’s exactly what you do.

The next time you wake up, to light creeping in between the curtains, Aaron is no longer in bed, but you’re holding his pillow, still warm beneath your cheek. He doesn’t act weird when you get up and start moving around, just pops out of the bathroom with his toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

“Got you a latte,” he says around it, gesturing to the desk and the pair of paper cups that sit on it, and you grin.

“Seriously, you’re my favorite human,” you answer, and you grab your coffee and lean against the doorframe, sipping and sighing until you’re a little more clear-headed. “Sorry if I crushed you; guess I was restless last night. I usually don’t move around that much.”

He just shrugs, spits out a mouthful of foam into the sink.

“You didn’t crush me. I’m pretty solid, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” you tease, looking at him over the lid as you take another sip. “Now hurry up and quit hogging the bathroom if you want to leave here at a decent hour.” He rinses, zips up his toiletry bag noisily for dramatic effect, and slips past you, rubbing a hand over your unruly bed head as he goes. The day passes quickly, with lots of interviewing witnesses, following dead-end leads, and bad police station coffee. When Aaron calls it and tells everyone to get some dinner, you all split off into smaller groups—Spencer and Derek go for Chinese, JJ and Emily opt for pizza, and you and Aaron end up at a retro diner with burgers and milkshakes and a plate of fries between you to share.

“I think we should be focusing more on the docks,” you say, dipping a fry in ketchup and taking a bite. “Even if that’s not where the bodies end up, it seems to be where the unsub is meeting with the victims. We could stake it out tonight, maybe. If you want.” You never want to step on his toes, because he is the boss, the leader, even if you’re friends too; you try to be careful how you phrase things, especially in front of other people, because you don’t want your comfort to look like disrespect, however unintentional.

“That’s a good idea. You and I can head down there after this; I’ll let the others know to patrol nearby, in case we need backup.”

He dusts off his fingers and pulls out his phone, types out a text, and you look around the restaurant—the place looks like it was ripped right out of the 50s, with a checkered floor and lots of red vinyl, a shiny jukebox in the corner. Out of place is a flatscreen tv behind the counter; during the day, when it’s busier, it might play news or sports, but you two are the only ones here at the moment, so the staff is hanging out beneath it watching a movie. It’s Titanic, you realize, when the iconic ‘Rose floating on a piece of debris’ scene plays, and you snort, take a long drag of your chocolate shake.

“I always hated this part. They could have found a way for him to survive, too. Unnecessary death for the heartache factor,” you say, and Aaron looks up from his phone to the screen, makes a sound of contemplation.

“I always thought it was kind of romantic. When you love someone, you’d do anything for them to be okay, even at your own expense. Even if it’s stupid.” You look over his face, study the features you know like the back of your hand, and you guess you can kind of see that, but you can’t say that, so you just sigh.

“I suppose you think Romeo and Juliet is romantic, too,” you tease, and he looks back at you, rolls his eyes.

“It’s very much of its time; it's a lot harder to suffer a miscommunication like that these days. And there is something to be said for star-crossed lovers—people who shouldn’t be together, for one reason or another, but can’t help but drift close anyway.” You swirl your straw in the metal cup, thinking briefly of how that happens to describe the two of you, and when you look up at him, you think you see a hint of that same thought on his face.

More likely, that’s just wishful thinking.

“I like the sword-fights,” you say to lighten the mood, and he laughs, and you both polish off the rest of your food and then head for the docks.

Two hours in and absolutely nothing has happened, but just when you’re ready to complain, or suggest playing I Spy or something, there’s movement from one of the shipping containers to your right. You nudge Aaron, point to the container, and you both creep closer, trying to make out the situation.

When you’re just around the corner, it’s clearly two men fighting, but you obviously don’t know if this is your unsub, two random guys having it out on the docks, or what, so you mutually agree to wait until you have some kind of sign that this is your guy. When one of them pulls out a hunting knife that looks vaguely similar to your murder weapon—as close as you can tell in the dark, anyway—you raise your guns and identify yourselves as FBI.

The unsub drops the knife, but fists his hands in the other guy’s jacket, manhandles him to the edge of the dock, and shoves him into the water, then jumps as well. You swear, and Aaron takes off his jacket, throws it on the ground, then his phone on top of it, and looks back at you.

“Stay here and call for backup,” he instructs, and then he jumps in too; you call the team from your comms, get a response from Emily, and then toss your phone onto Aaron’s jacket and follow him.

He, of course, went for the victim first, so you look for the unsub, who is not visible above the water. You completely submerge yourself, feeling for more than looking for him, because the water is cloudy on a good day and pitch black at ten o’clock at night; when you pop your head up for air, you see Aaron getting the victim up onto the dock, and the unsub bobbing a bit further out. You swim to him, limbs aching, and he seems to know it’s time to give up.

He’s winded, gasping for breath, so you keep him above the water to your own detriment, dragging him by his wet jacket instead of cuffing him, because you’re not trying to kill the guy or lug his unconscious body back to shore. You just barely keep your own head above water most of the time, coming up for big gulps of air when absolutely necessary.

You finally make it to the dock, and your team has arrived, so Derek pulls him out of the water, makes sure he’s alright, and puts some cuffs on him. Aaron’s hands are on you right after, getting you up on the dock, wrapping a towel around your shoulders.

Despite the warm spring breeze, the water was freezing, and you can feel your teeth chattering. He rubs your arms for warmth, crouches down to look you seriously in the eyes.

“Thought I told you to stay here,” he says with an arched brow, a scowl you can tell is more concerned than angry. You wet your frozen lips and try your best to smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack.”

He looks at you like you’re an idiot, but fondly, if that’s possible, then hugs you so tightly, guides your face to press against his warm neck. How he’s not teetering on the edge of hypothermia is anyone’s guess.

“Your lips are practically blue. Stupid,” he murmurs, but his mouth dusts over your temple in what is unmistakably a kiss, and when you’re able to feel your lips again, you reciprocate, press them a little harder against his throat while you shiver in his arms.

It doesn’t mean anything except I’m happy we’re both alive. Probably.

That night in bed, he faces the wall, and you stare at the ceiling, but you wake up with your nose against the back of his neck. The way he’s breathing tells you he’s not asleep, and when you wrap your arms around him, he holds them tight. Things don’t change after Pittsburgh, and that’s okay. You are comfortable with the way things are, and you love what you have—lunches under the oak tree, the exchange of books, late night texts when you both can’t sleep, hands brushing when you walk to the parking garage, glances shared across the jet. All those things make it easy not to focus on what you don’t have, what you’re not even sure Aaron would want anyway.

You exchange books again on Friday at lunch: he hands you Beloved by Toni Morrison, a book you already know and adore, and you hand him Ravished by Amanda Quick.

“Dubbed the Beast of Blackthorne Hall for his scarred face and lecherous past, Gideon,” Aaron shoots you a glance—“that’s purely coincidental”—“was strong and fierce and notoriously menacing. Yet Harriet could not find it in her heart to fear him. For in his tawny gaze she sensed a savage pain she longed to soothe... and a searing passion she yearned to answer.”

You hold back a smile.

“It’s a modern retelling of a classic story—Beauty and the Beast,” you add, taking a bite of your sandwich. He looks you over like there’s something he wants to say, but he just tucks it under his arm and steals a piece of melon from your lunch.

“I have Jack this weekend, so I probably won’t get to read much, but it sounds intriguing.”

“Well I hope you like it when you read it. Tell him I said hi; it’s been too long since I saw him. I bet he’s looking more like you every day,” you say, popping a piece of melon into your mouth. He smiles softly.

“A little, but Haley says she sees her father in him, and I have to agree. We may have to wait a few years until he looks like me; he’s too cute for that now.” He doesn’t sound self-deprecating, just fond, but you can’t let a comment like that stand, regardless.

“You’re cute; the difference is that kids are cute all the time. You’re an adult, so sometimes you’re handsome, sometimes you’re cute, sometimes you’re hot… it can be hard to reconcile.” This time, he looks you over with something light and playful in his eyes, and it’s something you want to explore, but the timer on your phone goes off, indicating that lunch is over, so you just exhale softly and pack up your things.

You don’t talk much after that—his Fridays are usually busy with meetings, and he leaves in a hurry to pick up Jack, which is understandable.

Emily, JJ, and Penelope invite you out for drinks and dinner—“because we know Hotch is busy,” Penelope says, which has literally nothing to do with your weekend plans, but you don’t correct them—so you don’t linger either.

You go out for Italian, so you are sleepy and full of wine and pasta by the end of the evening, and you smile at your friends.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight, guys. I had a really good time.”

“Of course,” Emily says, taking her last sip of Pinot Noir. “We barely see you anymore; it was long overdue.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I should really try to drag my ass out of bed more often.” You can’t help it, though, that after a long day, your bed and a good book just call your name. You’ve always been introverted in that way. JJ laughs softly, chin in her palm, elbow on the table.

“Honeymoon phase. Give it another couple months and you’ll be past that.” You do have a new memory foam mattress that has made sinking into the pillows and blankets all that more indulgent, but you didn’t think JJ knew about that. And you’ve never heard of a honeymoon phase for a mattress before.

“Eh, I don’t think so. There’s literally nothing more satisfying on this earth.” The three of them exchange an amused look, but your phone vibrates, and that catches your attention; you smile when it’s Aaron, sending you a photo of Jack with a toothy grin and his hands covered in fingerpaint. You look up to the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.

“Alright, we’ve lost her. See you all Monday,” Emily says, pulling you in for a hug; when she steps back, she smiles. “And tell Hotch we said hi.”

“I will,” you promise as you hug the other two. You hang back a moment, type out a reply—Looks like you’re having lots of fun without me!—and get into your car to head home.

You change into comfy clothes, drink a glass of water, and climb into bed with Beloved, and at around 9:30 you receive a reply.

Having the most fun we can without you. Maybe next time Jack is over, we can tempt you with dinosaur chicken nuggets and fingerpaint?

You smile, the happiest you’ve been all night—and that’s saying something, because you really did have a great time—and send back, It’s a date. Come Monday, you’re feeling pretty good, well-rested and relaxed from probably too much time in bed, but Aaron looks upset when he walks into the morning meeting. He keeps it short and sweet, and everyone disperses quickly, giving you sympathetic looks as you hang back to try to have a word with him. He clears off the white board, tidies up the table that doesn’t need tidying, and you place a hand on his back, gentle and comforting. He sighs, and you can feel the tension leave him almost instantly.

“Hey. What’s bothering you?” you ask softly, leaning around to try to catch his expression; he looks tired, sad, and maybe a little conflicted, leans into your touch.

“Taking Jack back to Haley’s was rough last night; it always is, but yesterday was really bad.” You know a little about this from weekends past, how Jack always cries when Aaron has to leave, how he feels terrible about it for the rest of the evening, but it must have been extreme for him to still be so upset. “And Haley…” He sighs again, runs his hand through his hair. “It’s like it’s one step forward, two steps back with her sometimes.”

“Why don’t we go sit in your office and you can tell me more?” You want to continue discussing this—that’s what friends are for, and he’s clearly in a bad state emotionally, you think it could help—but he just shakes his head.

“No, I… it’s okay. I don’t want to weigh you down with my problems.” You take your hand off his back, lean a hip against the table and look up at him.

“I’m not just your friend when it’s all easy breezy, lunch in the sunshine, talking about our favorite books,” you say with a sad smile; he reciprocates a little, which is more than you expected. “I’m here when things are complicated, when you have bad days, too. The Monday blues especially.” One of his hands rests on the table, and you cover it with yours, lean in to press your forehead to his shoulder. “Let me be here, okay? Even if all you need me to do is listen.”

It takes a moment, and his eyes are wet when he finally responds; he inhales deeply, nods, and brushes his free hand over your head in something of a hug, murmurs a rough, “okay.”

You sit in his office for an hour—which, again, is more than you expected—listening to him talk about his weekend with Jack, how heartbreaking it was to take him back to Haley’s, how he tried talking to her about taking him more often and she just wasn’t sure she could trust him to do what he says he’ll do. He understands where she’s coming from, knows he’s been unable to keep his word in the past, thinks he doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt; he hasn’t asked for advice, seems to just want to vent, so you just listen.

“Then I mentioned you, that you might come for dinner next time he’s over, and she was worried about that,” he says, exasperated, and you frown.

“Why would she worry about that? I’ve been around him lots of times.” It doesn't make sense, because Haley has always been nothing but sweet to you; Aaron looks up at your question, and it seems a little like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that part, though you can’t imagine why.

“It’s just different now… because he’s older,” he says after a brief moment of hesitation. “She doesn’t want him getting attached to someone who might not always be around, you know.” You sigh softly, because if that’s all it is…

You lean forward, take his hand, squeeze it tight.

“I’m always going to be around, Aaron. I can talk to her, if you want, tell her that.”

“No, it’s—you don’t have to do that.” He squeezes your hand back, closes his eyes for a beat. “Just hearing you say it, it makes things easier. I’ll talk to her again next time.”

You talk a little more, and he seems a lot better afterward, even if he is a bit less expressive during lunch; you figure any progress is good, but it makes you sad to see him so down, so naturally, you formulate a plan to help get him back to the Aaron you know and love.

At the end of the day, when he makes his way to the bullpen, you spin around in your chair, take him by the sleeve.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” you say in no uncertain tone of voice. “For a few hours. I’ll bring you back for your car.” He agrees with a fond look, and you lose yourself in the expression for a moment, then stand up, grab your things, and walk with him out to the garage.

Rush hour traffic is what it is, and you leave Aaron in charge of the music, which means you get The Beatles and The Who, Rolling Stones and Neil Diamond, and you’re both singing along and so much happier by the time you pull into the parking lot of the bodega nearest your apartment.

“Just running in for provisions—be right back,” you say with a grin, and when you return with two paper bags of loot, he looks at you like you might be his favorite person in the world with an age in the double digits. It’s a look you love putting on his face.

“Do I get to see what provisions you’ve acquired?” he asks, teasing, but you shake your head and tell him he’ll see it when you get there.

With a pit stop in your apartment to grab a blanket and a few throw pillows, you take him up to the roof and get things ready for your makeshift picnic. There is white wine, still mostly chilled; cubed cheese, far from gourmet but no less delicious; crusty french bread that was fresh this morning but at this hour is a little extra crusty; blueberries, because they didn’t have grapes; dark chocolate, because you share a fondness for it; and paper cups for the wine.

Aaron takes a look at your bounty, spread over the blanket, and smiles the first real smile you’ve seen all day.

“Fancy,” he teases, and he takes off his jacket, gets on the ground with you. You pour each of you some wine, pop a blueberry in your mouth.

“No, but I thought a meal—and I do call it that loosely—under the stars might do you some good.” You lift your paper cup and tap it against his, brush your fingers over his hand. “To the best boss, best dad, best friend I could ask for.” You take a sip, but he doesn’t at first, watches you with something simmering behind his eyes.

“Do I get to make a toast?” he asks after a few beats, and you smile, nod, and hold up your cup. “To the only person stupid enough to jump into a freezing cold river after me. To the only person I would consider eating a bodega dinner with. To the only person who sees me the way you do.” You both take a sip, which is hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. He looks into your eyes, then breaks the dark chocolate into slivers and hands you a piece like he didn’t just say the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you before.

You eat, and talk, and drink, and when you’re done with dinner you put everything back in the bags and lay back on the blanket, side by side, and stare up at the stars. The moon is high and full, shining while the stars twinkle around it, and you can’t think of a single time you’ve ever felt more at peace.

“This was really perfect,” Aaron says, almost a whisper, after about twenty minutes of companionable silence. “I can’t thank you enough for being there for me today.” You turn to face him, hands curled up under your chin, and he turns toward you as well. He’s so handsome in the moonlight your heart almost aches.

“You don’t have to thank me. I just wanted to see you happy.” You feel your eyes well up with tears, because he deserves to be happy; you sigh, blink them away, and he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, rests them there for a long time. When he eventually pulls back, you bring a hand to his hair, brush it back at his temple, and then the creaking of the door makes you pull back, sit up.

It’s your neighbor from 422, who you’ve seen on the roof a handful of times, sneaking away from his wife to smoke a cigarette. He squints in the dark, recognizes you, and waves.

“Hey, 418! You’re not alone tonight.” Aaron sits up too, and you laugh softly.

“Nope, but we were just leaving. The roof is all yours.” Aaron stands, pulls you up, and you grab the blanket and pillows while he grabs the bags, and the two of you head back down to your place.

It’s after ten when you get the groceries put away, and you stand next to Aaron in your small kitchen, contemplating what you want to say next. Your mouth betrays your brain, says what you’ve been thinking but weren’t quite sure how to approach.

“It’s late; I know I said I’d take you back to your car, but you could stay here if you want. I have a spare toothbrush, and I know you have a spare suit at the office, and it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed before.”

You’d completely understand if he’d rather go home—you hate when your plans are changed at the last minute, and you prefer to do your full nightly routine for your sanity’s sake—but he only nods, and you lead your way to the bedroom, show him the master bath.

You are in your pajamas, tucked into bed, when he comes out in his boxers and undershirt; he hangs up his suit in your closet where you’d left him some space, then climbs in beside you. He looks over at you, then past you, at your nightstand, which has a stack of books on it—none of them romance novels. You grin, busted after months of book exchanges, and he leans over you to look at the titles.

“Persuasion, To Kill A Mockingbird, One Hundred Years of Solitude—Beloved.” He looks from your copy of the novel to his, which you hold in your hands, and you shrug sheepishly.

“I like reading the notes you put in the margins,” you say meekly, hoping he’s not angry, but all he does is laugh.

“Let me guess: you don’t actually like romance novels.” He leans back against your pillow, and so do you, resting the book on your lap.

“I mean, I don’t not like them… but I’ve been buying those just for you.” The smile on his face is brilliant, and only makes you yearn for him more; things you have been purposefully not feeling are flooding your heart and mind and body now, with him so close, laughing over this stupid secret you’ve been hiding for so long. “And you, sweet man that you are, have been reading them, and discussing them.” You put your hand on his shoulder, and he ducks his head to laugh again.

“Since we’re being honest… I didn’t read all of them. I tried,” he says when you act offended, shoving the shoulder you’re resting against, “but some of them were so bad. I just flipped through, found something I thought could pass as my favorite part, and hoped to hell you didn't ask too many questions.”

You both laugh until you’re breathless—he is so different from how he was this morning it makes you want to cry—and when your laughter dies down you look at each other, sharing breath, two heads on one pillow; is it any wonder you bridge the distance, pull him close for a warm, gentle kiss?

When you break the kiss, you are instantly worried about what Aaron will do—you aren’t drunk, aren’t even tipsy, so you know he can’t be, so much bigger and more solid than you, but will he think it’s a mistake? He kissed back, you’re pretty sure, but maybe that was an accident, something done on autopilot—

He leans in for a second kiss, mouth deceptively soft, and you curl your arm around his back, press into it with lips desperate not to let this end now that it’s started. When you separate, you are both looking into each other’s eyes again, breathing a bit heavily, and you meet in the middle for a third kiss, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life.

That kiss ends when you yawn in his face, and he chuckles softly, leans over and switches off your bedside lamp; you smile at the ceiling, and he wraps his arms around you, presses his lips to your shoulder, and tells you good night. The next day, the two of you arrive at work early so he can shower and change into his fresh clothes without anyone on the team noticing—not that you think they would really care, but they’re nosy, and a little annoying, so you both agree that’s probably for the best.

You don’t talk about the kisses, even though they’ve been the only thing running through your mind since they happened; you promise to discuss it at lunch, though, and that’s such a sweet, romantic prospect that you think you prefer it better that way anyway.

Only, you don’t ever get to lunch, because there’s an urgent case in Minneapolis, an all hands on deck situation, meaning even Penelope joins you on the jet. You debrief on the flight, hunker down in the conference room, and split up to cover more ground; you barely get to speak to Aaron the whole time you’re there except to be given instructions and to fill him on what, if anything, you’ve learned.

You don’t even make it to your hotel that night, working around the clock to catch the people responsible for terrorizing the city. It takes not one, but almost two full days, and when you board the jet on Wednesday evening, everyone is dead on their feet. You barely remember the flight or the trip home, and you fall onto your bed fully clothed and crash just like that.

Thursday is your birthday, which you almost forgot, and so you assumed everyone else would too. You should have known better, because even if your team can be annoying, they are still your friends, and they love you, so you are well and truly spoiled.

You are treated to a latte and bagels from Emily, purple cupcakes with silver sprinkles from Penelope, a piggy back ride from Derek, a book of poetry you’ve had your eye on from Spencer, and a card from JJ—really, it turns out, from all of them.

“Enjoy a romantic getaway on us?” There’s some kind of certificate in the card, and when you flip it over, you discover that it’s for a hotel and spa that offers couples massages, mud baths, intimate aromatherapy? You arch a brow. “Uh, thanks, guys. Are you trying to tell me something here?” JJ’s face falls a little and she points to the card.

“It’s a romantic getaway. For you and Hotch? Since things have been so hectic lately,” she says, but your ears are kind of ringing and your brain is stuck on the for you and Hotch part.

“Oh. Um. Sorry—it’s just kind of soon, I think? How do you guys even know about that?” you murmur. The two of you haven’t had time to discuss Monday yet, and you haven’t spoken a word to anyone; you wouldn’t have guessed Aaron would have either, but there is a gift certificate for a romantic getaway in your hands, and you’re kind of spiraling.

“Well come on, we haven’t exactly been pretending we don’t know,” Emily says, and you can feel the confusion in your features when you look up at her. “And you guys haven’t been exactly secretive. We’re happy for you, though.”

“I mean, we haven’t been secretive, but we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet. It’s only been three days.” You are met with looks similar to the one on your own face.

“What do you mean, three days?” Spencer asks with a frown. “You and Hotch have been dating for almost two months. Right?” he says, looking at the others, and they nod, but it’s tentative. Your first reaction is to flush, and you close the card, fan your face with it.

“You guys think… You guys thought…” You look at them, then up at Aaron’s office; there’s no way he can know that you’re having a moment, but he chooses then to come downstairs, coincidentally. He’s smiling at first, but it falls when he looks at your face.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” He presses a cool hand to your hot cheek, flicks his eyes over yours, and JJ makes a noise; when you glance over at her, she’s gesturing between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, we were wrong? What were we supposed to think?” Aaron frowns, not following, and you take a deep breath.

“They got me a gift certificate for my birthday. To a spa. For you and I to have a romantic getaway, because they were under the assumption we’ve been dating… for two months.” The way he pulls back quickly makes your stomach ache a little, but you say nothing. You should have known.

“You say I love you,” Derek begins like he’s listing evidence. “You have lunch together every day. You’re always smiling at each other.”

“Seriously, some of the softest, gooiest smiles I’ve ever seen,” Penelope adds.

“You eat together on cases, you’re texting all the time when you’re not together.”

“I’ve been pairing the two of you up in hotels since I first figured out you were dating,” JJ says, and the whole ‘you’re welcome’ thing suddenly makes some sense. “I booked you that room with just the one bed so you’d maybe feel more comfortable about us knowing, so you’d see that we don’t mind.”

“You’re always looking at each other, always touching,” Spencer says. “In Pittsburgh—that was the first time you really hugged or kissed each other in front of us. We were trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but it was kind of a big deal.”

You look over at Aaron, try to gauge his reaction, but for the first time in a long time you can’t tell what he’s feeling. You can’t really tell what you’re feeling, either. Sadness. Worry. Loss? But what have you lost?

“We’re friends,” you say, even if it sounds weak to your own ears. “We’re… close.”

“We wouldn’t exactly make sense as a couple, would we?” Aaron asks rhetorically, and your heart clenches when he says that. He told you this morning that he’d made dinner plans for you, both for your birthday and to discuss the kisses, what they mean, where you go from here, but that doesn’t sound very promising anymore. “We’re just—”

“Star-crossed,” you say, but you feel like your eyes are vacant. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re stupid for kissing him, for letting yourself think he could feel the same way you feel, have felt for a while. Isn’t friendship enough? Don’t you already have this special bond so unlike what you have with anyone else in your life? Why press your luck? You know better than that. “We should get back to work.”

You don’t look at Aaron, so you don’t know whether or not he looks at you. JJ does, and you can tell she knows you’re upset, but she just nudges everyone on their way, and you take a seat at your desk—it’s covered in balloons and streamers, the Penelope special.

You’ve never felt less like celebrating.

At lunchtime, Aaron stops at your desk, and the two of you walk out to the bench, open your bags in silence. You’re almost halfway through the hour before he tries to speak.

“Uh. I. About earlier,” he finally gets out, looking down at his sandwich, and you shake your head even though he’s not watching you.

“It’s fine. We don’t have to.” You take a bite of your salad even though you don’t taste it. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. You are who you are,” smart, sweet, handsome, tender, caring, “and I am who I am.” Too quiet, too young, too impulsive, too silly, too emotional. He nods, looks at your face for the first time in a while, swallows.

“Right.” You’re due to exchange books back—his is on your lap, yours is on his—and he picks them both up. “I’m like this,” he says, holding up Beloved. “Faded cover, dog-eared pages, scribbles in the margins: middle-aged, divorced, a little broken, barely holding it together for the kid I don’t get to spend enough time with. You’re like this,” he says, holding up Ravished. “Fresh and glossy and shiny and new, with your whole life ahead of you, the whole world ahead of you. You could do anything, with anyone.”

You frown, because this is not what you meant, at all. How could he think that about himself, when the well-loved cover and the dog-eared pages and the scribbles in the margins are all the best parts of him?

“Aaron,” you say, but it sounds like pleading; you reach out to put your hands on his arms, but he pulls them back. His eyes are rimmed red, lips pressed together to hold back everything he’s not saying.

“I think lunch is almost over.” He packs up his things, leaves you with tears in your eyes and a wilted salad and a brand new romance novel you’re never going to read.

Later, he cancels dinner, says something came up, and you go home to your empty bed and watch Titanic and bawl your eyes out when Rose tells Jack she’ll never let go. Friday, you get another case. Weekend cases are no one’s favorite, but especially not yours, when you desperately needed that buffer of time away from Aaron to sort out your feelings and get back to some sense of normalcy. Instead, you’re flying to a small town outside of Nashville to catch a serial arsonist, and when you get to your hotel, you and Aaron are sharing a room.

At least there are two beds, this time.

You go with Emily and Spencer to a crime scene, walking around a house that was once picture perfect and is now all charred wood and ash, and you quickly tell yourself to get a grip and not look for metaphors for your own life while trying to solve a case. What kind of investigator are you? Pathetic, apparently.

You work until evening, and when it’s time to break for dinner, you buy a sad looking assortment of items from the police station vending machine and eat in the conference room by yourself.

It’s a good thing you do, because they get a call about the fire while everyone is still away, and you and a few locals are the first on the scene.

It doesn’t start out bad, mostly located in the back of the house, but you know how quickly these things can spread, and the fire department is working hard to put it out. One of the officers is talking to the family, and the mother is crying, so you come closer to figure out why.

“She said the daughter was supposed to be staying at a friend’s, but sometimes she changes her mind at the last minute and comes home. She can’t get ahold of her,” the officer says, and you nod, thinking.

“Where would she be? The front or the back?”

“Her room is in the front, second floor; if she’s here, that’s where she’d be,” the mother says, wiping her eyes with a tissue, and you tell the officer to stay with them, that you’ll take care of it. You talk to the firefighters—this town is so small there are only two that were able to respond, and they’re both busy trying to put out the fire, but they clear you to go in if you stick to the front of the building and get out of there as fast as you can.

Your team isn’t here yet either, too far out for comms to be effective, and you can’t get ahold of Aaron, so you make a judgement call and head inside.

The front of the house is so eerily normal it’s almost easy to calm your nerves and pretend the back isn’t in the process of being destroyed. You open the front door, run up the staircase, and call out for the girl; she answers, not from the front of the house, but the back—a bathroom maybe? Flames lick up the wall beside it, but you can get to the knob, and she comes rushing out, into your arms, terrified. You weren't expecting that, and you both fall back: your head hits off the floor, but she seems okay, so you tell her to run out the front door and find her mom.

You press a hand to the back of your head, and it comes back tacky with blood. There’s ringing in your ears for a couple of minutes, and then your favorite voice in the world comes through.

“Where are you? We’re here, where are you?” You’re getting hotter, and when you crane your neck up, you can see why: the fire is getting closer, creeping toward the staircase, creeping toward you. You inhale, cough, and press your walkie button.

“I’m upstairs in the hall; hit my head. It’s not safe.”

“I’m coming for you.” You groan. Stubborn man.

“It’s not safe, Aaron.” You hear the crackle of static, hope maybe he heard your warning and will wait until more firefighters arrive—but knowing him the way you do, that’s just wishful thinking. His voice rings out again, and despite the pain, you can’t help but smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack. Just stay put; I’ll be right there.” You close your eyes, drift in and out of consciousness; when you see him, all you can think is how ridiculously in love with him you are, and that you really hope you’ll be around to tell him. You are, of course, fine. Your head is the worst of it, even the smoke inhalation was mild, and the fire didn’t touch you, so there are no burns. Aaron doesn’t leave your side the entire time you’re being checked over, looks serious and concerned, though he smiles when the mother comes over and squeezes you so tightly you wince a little. It starts to rain, making the firefighters' jobs a little easier, and it feels oddly cleansing, after the day you’ve had. Someone offers you an umbrella, but you decline.

The fire is successfully put out, and the half of your team that didn’t respond to the scene responded to a call for suspicious activity, which ends up being your unsub. You are all happy no one was killed this time, and since you’re staying the night again, the group decides to grab a drink to celebrate. You don’t have a concussion, but your head still aches, so you pass, and Aaron passes with you.

You head to the hotel, park in the lot, but you don’t even make it halfway across before you stop, a hand on his arm.

“I need to say something,” you tell him, and he looks up at the dark sky like, right here? Right now?, even though you’re both already drenched. You nod, because if you don’t do this now you might never—almost dying always gives you an unhealthy amount of confidence, which you attribute to equal amounts of adrenaline and stupidity. “When we first met, I didn’t think we’d have a lot in common. We’re both quiet, but in wildly different ways, and I’m quick to trust and let people in while your guard is almost never down.”

He looks a little sad at that, and you realize you’re kind of doing what he did, putting the two of you into completely different categories, emphasizing the ways you don’t belong together. But that’s dumb, so you don’t give him time to focus on that for long.

“But being your friend, Aaron—the more time I spent with you, the more I came to feel like no one has ever understood me the way you do. No one has ever seen me the way you do.” Rain is pouring down all around you, beating against the pavement, flattening your hair against your head, but you don’t care. Regardless of his reaction, this is actually kind of perfect. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you—that was an accident, I admit. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You step closer to him, put your hands on his waist; he doesn’t pull away. “I don’t need shiny, glossy things; you're the one I want—faded cover, dog-eared pages, notes in the margins. I love you exactly as you are.”

He is gorgeous in the rain, water in his hair, dripping off his nose. His expression looks hopeful, and you pray to god that’s not wishful thinking.

“Say something, anything,” you beg, anticipation killing you, and he presses his hands to your cheeks and pulls you close for a deep, passionate, soulful kiss that says it all.

The words are nice to hear, though.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you either,” he breathes against your lips when the kiss breaks. “I told myself it was just a crush, because someone so young and beautiful was paying so much attention to me, treating me like more than just the guy giving orders. But the more time I spent with you, the more undeniable it became. You are everything good about the world—bright, optimistic, caring, funny, sweet. How could anyone not fall in love with you?”

You swallow hard, lean up to press your lips against his again.

“When you said we wouldn’t make sense as a couple…” He shakes his head.

“That was just me chickening out. After we kissed, I was all but ready to ask you to go steady,” he says, and you both smile, because he’s such an old fashioned dork, but god, do you love him. “And then we found out that the team thought we’d been together for months, and you looked freaked out, so I freaked out. I’m sorry. I should have made us talk about it sooner.”

“Classic pointless miscommunication,” you say with a laugh, and he chuckles too, kisses you again.

“Let’s go inside and get dried off; there’s a birthday gift in my bag I’ve been meaning to give you.” He takes your hand, and you head up, duck into the bathroom to change into dry clothes, squeeze the water out of your hair. There is a small, flat, wrapped present on your bed when you emerge, and you smile, sink down to open it.

It’s Romeo and Juliet, a brand new copy, but when you flip through it, there are blue inked notes in the margins. Aaron comes to sit beside you, touches your face like you’re something precious.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” he murmurs, and you smack him on the arm with the book.

“That’s from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I know you know that,” you say with a grin. He nods in admission, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, lean in for a warm, loving kiss. When you pull back, it’s with a soft smile. “Give me my sin again?”

“My pleasure,” he whispers, and you sink into his embrace and promise never to let go. The following week, you both leave work at noon on Friday so you can enjoy your romantic getaway. You drive to the spa, and Aaron reads over the brochure on his phone with a tone you find hilarious.

“Mud bath—I’m not bathing in mud. That’s counterintuitive.”

“It’s special mud; more like clay,” you say, but he snorts, scrolls.

“Seaweed wrap—nobody is wrapping me in seaweed. That sounds like a nightmare.” You laugh softly and take your exit.

“It’s supposed to be rejuvenating. JJ recommended it.”

“JJ weighs fifty pounds. It would take all the seaweed in the Atlantic to wrap me,” he says, and you roll your eyes, jab your finger into his ribs.

“But what if I get to unwrap you?” you ask, eyebrows raised; you briefly glance over and he makes a face of contemplation.

“Okay, that’s a maybe. Intimate aromatherapy—what does that even mean?”

“I think it means we do something that makes us smell good and then we go back to our room and kiss and stuff.”

“Now that doesn’t sound half bad,” he murmurs. “Foot massage? I’m not letting a stranger touch my feet, that’s weird.” You look over at him, squinting.

“You literally plugged someone’s bullet wound with your finger yesterday, but someone touching your feet is where you draw the line? Will you do anything on the list?” He scrolls down it, and his extended silence makes you laugh.

“Meditation. Couples massage,” he says, reaching over to rest a hand on your thigh. “There’s a sauna.” You think of him, sweat-drenched in a fluffy white towel, and take a deep, calming breath. “I bet the room is nice; did you bring a book?” You smile indulgently, reach out a hand to brush through his hair.

“Yep. It’s called A Duke’s Wild Kiss…” He gives you a mildly withering look, and you lightly tap the bridge of his nose. “Just kidding. I brought To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.” His answering smile is brilliant.

“Are you serious?” You nod, and he gestures to the backseat, where your bags are. “That’s what I brought, too.”

You spend too much of your romantic getaway in your room, but it is really nice; you do the couples massage, though, and aromatherapy, and the sauna, and then you take turns giving each other a foot massage while the other reads To the Lighthouse out loud.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t, but somehow you get to keep him anyway. A/N: Though I snuck in a few parts of a few different lyrics, two lines in particular inspired this fic: 'Now I've read all of the books beside your bed' and 'I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.' A lot of my fics lately have incorporated books... guess I better get reading!

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[denkamis]

bnha characters as cheesy valentine’s day tropes.

masterlist. | valentine’s day event masterlist.

warnings: none! some swearing, but a lot of fluff for the best boys

characters: shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, tamaki amajiki

notes: dedicated to @nekomanagers / @meilbox ,, for being the most supportive human being in my life and undoubtedly the reason i have been posting so much of my work here on this blog. thank you for dealing with all of my shenanigans on and offline, and for picking me up when i felt like i couldn’t. <33 i love you.

shouto todoroki

flowers & chocolate as gifts

he’s one for the classics

he buys you the most gorgeous flowers, ones that are most definitely your favourites mixed in with an arrangement of others that all have particular meanings to them

he also got you expensive truffle chocolates, and also some cheaper ones that you really like to snack on

he’s so thoughtful, it makes your heart melt

literally so sincere as he gives it to you too, has a whole ass speech prepared

shouto came home after work a bit later than you had expected him to. perhaps he got caught up with some hero work, a report that needed to absolutely be filed today or a villain that just wouldn’t let up. either way, when you heard the front door to your shared apartment open, you came running over to greet him. as you turned the corner to see the front door, there stood shouto with the most breathtaking bouquet of flowers you had ever seen in your life. it was a myriad of colours and petals of all kinds standing out against the white of his suit. since when did he have time to change after work to surprise you like this? his usual aloof expression was replaced by a soft smile, one that was reserved for you and only you, “happy valentine’s day, my love.”

he strolled over to you, initiating a kiss that was slow and passionate. it made your heart melt right on the spot, your face erupting in nothing but pure warmth. “shouto, these are beautiful,” you told him as you took a moment to admire the different flowers that went into assembling the collection in his hands. “these ones mean gratitude, and this one here means love. truth is the white coloured one,” he pointed out, guiding you through the meaning of each individual one that made up your special gift.

he snuck a glance at you, your face radiant with how much you were smiling at his thoughtful present. “i also bought you a few of your favourites,” shouto gestured to the vanity you two kept by the door. you turned to see a very expensive box of truffles and a few hershey's kisses paired with more of your favourite corner store chocolates.

“it wasn’t too much, was it?” shouto asked quietly, watching as your jaw dropped at the sight of the truffles. didn’t you hear a rumour once about how those ones literally had gold integrated into their wrappers?  “no no, it’s wonderful. this is.. you’re so sweet,” you giggled, tapping his chest as a signal for him to lean down so you could kiss him again. no matter how many times shouto gifted you flowers and chocolate on valentine’s day, you got the same butterflies as you did when he first gave you these heartfelt gifts back in high school.

denki kaminari

fancy dinner date at an expensive restaurant

the entire bakusquad was EGGING HIM ON for something good on valentine’s day okay

he’s been talking big game about some kind of secret plan he had in store for the both of you

he bought you an outfit that not only suited your style, but was elegant and absolutely stunning as it complimented your figure

he pulled out all the stops for you

he wanted to be classy, so he reserved a table for two at one of those rooftop restaurants so you two could dine and enjoy each other’s company

“like grown ups” as denki says

you were sat at a candlelit dinner for two near the edge of one of the most highly rated restaurants in your area. denki had really gone all out, wanting to treat you like the resilient and beautiful partner you were to him with a night that would be unforgettable.

and unforgettable it was.

you two were arguably the loudest ones at the restaurant, laughing and overall just having a good time amongst such high class individuals. denki was making faces at you across the table, making you choke back on the red wine you were having. “and then bakugou slapped that dude! it was crazy, y/n, super fucking wild,” he laughed as you nodded your head in agreement. denki sure knew how to talk, filling in conversations with anecdotes and playful conversation topics sprinkled in with compliments for you. he loved you so damn much, he felt like his electricity quirk was on all the time with you from how much you turned his brain to mush.

he couldn’t get over how gorgeous you looked tonight, with your hair done and your outfit styled to perfection. like, that was all his? and a personality to match? damn! he felt like for once, he was doing something right in his life for you. he wasn’t the dumbass everyone constantly made him out to be. he was trying to be the best for you, and if he could make you happy for the rest of his life, then nothing else mattered to him.

your waiters came back with two platters in hand, with outrageously small portion sizes that could feed maybe a small cat at best. the two of you stared at each other with blank expressions. oh no, this would not be enough to appease your appetites. each of your plates were worth twelve thousand yen, so you really couldn’t get more. on top of that, denki had prepaid everything for tonight anyways. what was worse was that the food tasted like a rat’s ass, yet the two of you dined like kings regardless. well, you pretended to at least. as you were suppressing your disgusted expressions out of kindness to both the waiters and the other guests, denki couldn’t help but stare at you. you were his person, and although the dinner wasn’t exactly all it was cracked up to be, he knew that you dealt with so much more of him than anyone else was willing to. that meant more to him than words could even express.

that, and he immediately bought you apology mcnuggets after you two left. then you two really ate like kings.

eijirou kirishima

long captions to their s/o on instagram

this mfing SAP

he has everything planned, he made like 3 drafts beforehand and even had bakugou proofread it for him

he had all the different pictures he wanted to post too

this is a little unrelated but mans definitely showed up to your house with red roses and a suit

LIKE A GENTLEMAN

your phone buzzed, indicating that  you had received a new notification from instagram. after taking your phone off the table and entering in your passcode, you tapped into the instagram app and saw what had caused the tiny ping.

eijikirishima has tagged you in a post!

the first photo was an oldie, but a goodie. it was of you and eijirou at prom together back when you both graduated from ua. he looked absolutely stunning in the darkened suit he had bought, right beside you in a matching colour scheme. though the picture was in fact a meme in itself, as he posed like that one will smith picture gesturing to you with the goofiest smile. you remembered telling him that he was absolutely banned from wearing crocs that night to the dance. it was a good thing you had saved him from that utter atrocity.

the next picture was a photo of you with the puppy you had adopted together. you had named him bean, to which eijirou had expressed was the manliest name he had ever heard for a tiny pomeranian puppy. you were pressing a kiss to bean’s nose, the angle of the photo showing off your loving nature that he had fallen for.

the last was a picture of you sleeping against him during a long train ride for a mission. it wasn’t the most flattering picture eijirou had of you, but it was certainly one of his favourites. you looked so at peace, cuddling against his side with a tiny line of drool running down your chin. he was smiling in the picture, his eyes solely trained on you with the most wholesome look on his face. he was so utterly in love with you, and this picture couldn’t have showcased that look any more clearly.

the caption read as follows:

Hey bros! It’s Valentine’s Day, which means that it is my duty to post about the most amazing person I’ve ever had the pleasure of dating for about five years now! Y/N, we’ve been through so much together over the years, we’ve had ups and downs and everything else in between but I’ve been fortunate enough to remain standing here as the person you can confide in, much like you are that person to me. You’re my rock. I continue to find so much more to love about you every single day. I hope I get to spend the rest of my days with you, my best friend, my partner throughout everything. I love you so so much, pebble. I hope we get to stay just like this forever, and grow as we go along.

needless to say, many happy tears were shed that day.

tamaki amajiki

love letters in their shoe locker

for all the days leading up to valentine’s, tamaki put a different letter in your locker

mirio hyped him up asf to even get him to write what he was feeling towards you

and he was still nervous as hell and had mirio stand guard so that you didn’t accidentally walk in on him shoving weird notes in your locker

but unfortunately for tamaki, mirio isn’t a very good watchman

and so you caught him in the act, right on valentine’s day ironically

it was the end of a long, rather eventful day at school. you had gotten a few confessions from some other students, to which you turned down due to someone else being on your mind. for the past few days, you had begun collecting small letters in your shoe locker. the notes were short, handwritten with small doodles and even a recipe or two for you to try. it seemed like this person was reaching out to you to express their true feelings, their intimate and romantic feelings, towards you. and you couldn’t help but feel the same towards them, whoever they were. this admirer unveiled small details about themselves to you, yet hadn’t revealed enough for you to piece together a name. so here you were, sprinting down the hallway as soon as the bell went to try and catch a glimpse of this mystery individual who had been leaving you such sweet writings for you to cherish.

you rounded the final corner and there you saw him. before that happened however, you first you ran into your classmate and good friend mirio, who let out a tiny “oof” at the sudden contact. you apologized to him in a rush, explaining in a rushed tone that you needed to go meet someone. he nodded and waved to you before realizing that he had one job and tamaki was definitely going to kill him later.

only slightly out of breath, you saw a mess of indigo hair and shaky hands sliding your latest note into your shoe locker. as he turned to leave, his face drained of colour at the sight of you. he slouched further, retreating into himself. he looked around nervously for an excuse as to what the hell he was doing shoving letters into your locker. though, you beat him to speaking first.

“it’s you.”

tamaki’s throat felt scratchy and swollen, his entire form shaking as you slowly, calmly made your way towards him. “i- i can explain, y/n,” tamaki barely murmured, his nerves beginning to get the best of him yet again. “your words, they were so intimate. you were so well spoken on paper, i just had to meet you in person,” you confessed to him with a patient smile on your face. you stood a relatively safe distance away, not wanting to overwhelm him by your presence. you had just caught him in such a compromising act, after all.

“i read all your letters,” you went on, “every night before bed, i read them, tamaki. i even tried out the udon recipe you gave me and it was the best udon i had ever had. everything you said in your letters, the confessions and the other, more personal stuff… is that all true?”

tamaki, though he felt frozen beneath your warm gaze, had the courage to nod his head. “i didn’t know how else to tell you,” he admitted, hands now covering his face in shame. suddenly, gentle fingers grasped at his shaky ones as you uncovered his face to the light that was you. “i like you too,” you said finally. it felt like a chord had snapped inside of tamaki’s mind and all his feelings came crashing down in a deep crescendo of emotions all for you. it was all that he had ever wanted from you: a response.

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 20)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 7235 Warnings: fluff, smut, angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: I’m patiently waiting for some screaming! Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 19 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Making your way downstairs was a little awkward and you barely made eye contact with Bucky. Winnie was waiting outside by the idling car, laughing at the person who had their back to you. They were fairly tall in a pewter suit and had short brown hair that was closely shaved in the back. Winnie nudged her chin and the person turned around, a smile spreading across their unfamiliar and yet completely recognizable face.

They shared the same deep blue eyes and dimple on their chin as Bucky and you knew this had to be Rebecca. Their hair was longer in the front, falling just beside their eyes, sparkling with gold and plum shadow.

“Bex!” Bucky exclaimed, smiling just as widely to see his sibling, wrapping them in a big hug.

“You cut your hair!” Rebecca looked at it approvingly. “Tryin’ to copy me I see,” they joked.

You smiled watching them together, forgetting any awkward feelings between yourself and Bucky; they were now solely reserved for introductions with Rebecca whose effortlessly cool vibe had you on edge for some reason.

Bucky pulled away from the hug, placing his hand behind you, almost touching the bare skin of your back before he realized that might be too intimate.

“Bex this is Y/N,” he introduced with a proud smile you couldn’t see.

“So nice to meet you,” you said, not expecting the hug they gave you.

Winnie stepped in the moment Rebecca stepped back to give you a hug of her own. She turned to check in with George who stayed in the car listening to a classic rock radio station.

“Okay let’s not be late,” she chirped, pointing at the watch not present on her wrist. “James, you sit in the front. We’ll all squeeze in the back.”

Rebecca got in first, sliding across the black leather seats to take the smaller spot in the middle. It wasn’t crowded with the three of you sitting together but Winnie made a good call not letting Bucky’s bulkier frame encroach on you or Rebecca had he been seated back there.

You saw swirls of ink on Rebecca’s wrist as they shifted to pull out their phone, which prompted them to roll up their sleeves, showing off part of the tattoos that cover their arm.

“It’s not done yet,” they said, revealing a bare spot on their forearm beside a large watercolor macaw tattoo.

Bucky’s head turned back ever so slightly, his eyes trying to see as much as he could without being so obvious as he watched you and Rebecca interact. He knows why he’s so nervous, his family hasn’t met anyone in his life since Olivia.

He scoffed internally when he thought about it. He was a kid, a kid with a broken heart that should have gotten over it a long time ago. But had things been different maybe Bucky would have never met you. He smiled to himself, thankful for his choices– no matter how childish, because they led him here.

Softly colored roses in peach and pale pinks were draped along the wooden archway, the gossamer fabric wrapped around the posts fluttered delicately with the wind. A golden sunset on the water served as the backdrop for an even more beautiful ceremony, celebrating the love of two people that never expected to find it.

Bucky looked over to catch a glimpse of the fading sun sparkling in your eyes. The soft sigh he exhaled was masked by the sound of cheers that rang out amongst the crowd as the newlyweds kissed.

The crowd dispersed onto the adjacent patio where lanterns hung from large sturdy trees, white pillar candles flickering inside. Soft pink fabric was draped over the tables, some small with golden framed chairs surrounding them, others free standing high tops that were scattered around beside the neatly trimmed lawn. Each had a handful of tealight candles gently glowing on top.

You followed Bucky and his family to the table where the hors d'oeuvres were served, taking the plate he handed you and picking up a few things. The display at the end of the table made you burst out with laughter. Among the fresh fruit and crudité were oversized plastic ants, each with a piece of fruit on their backs arranged in a line as if they were walking away with them.

Bucky shrugged. “It’s a thing with Hope’s family… I never really asked,” he chuckled, picking up a few strawberries from the platter behind the fake ants.

George pulled a chair from another table so you could all sit together. Placing his plate down he asked Winnie if she wanted a glass wine and she nodded, confident in knowing George knew what her favorite was.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Bucky asked. He knew what you drank when everyone went out together but he didn’t want to assume, waiting for you to respond before he and Rebecca accompanied their father to the bar.

Winnie didn’t hesitate to talk once they’d left, specifically about how happy she was Bucky was able to bring you. “He caused such a fuss, begging Scott and Hope to give him a last minute plus one.”

At that moment you wished you had a drink to bring to your lips, covering up the way her revelation had left you slack jawed. According to Bucky you were invited because he responded for two, making it seem as if you were doing him a huge favor by coming but the more Winnie spoke you realized your invitation was never to fill a seat; he was begging and pleading to bring a guest, to bring you.

“I can tell you’re special Y/N. I’ve never seen James this way with anyone in a long, long time.”

You couldn’t speak if you tried, smiling back at Winnie as your mind raced to free your heart from the protective cage it was locked away in. For once they were on the same page, heart and mind, desperate to run together right to Bucky.

When he returned to the table you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, maintaining a soft smile as your heart fluttered like a hummingbird inside your chest, desperate to break free and scream out your feelings from the top of your lungs.

You thanked him for the drink he brought back, letting your fingers linger on his hand for a beat longer than they should have, keeping your gaze locked with his before slowly turning towards Rebecca to answer the question they asked. Bucky’s cheeks were a blooming pink that practically matched the decor, his skin prickling with the memory of your touch.

Time passed quickly over conversation along with extended family members coming over to say hello. You didn’t miss the way Bucky smiled widely as he introduced you, simply as Y/N but wishing his lips had spoken the words written on your heart and called you his.

The grand doors of the ballroom opened when it was time for the reception. Bucky offered his arm which you took as he led you inside. Large chandeliers hung from the intricately detailed ceiling. Tall vases served as the centerpiece on the tables, each filled with a large arrangement of similar colored roses from the archway.

Pulling out the chair for you to be seated, Bucky happened to catch the approving smile on his father’s face, looking away to avoid an embarrassing flush to his cheeks if he held the knowing look any longer. He turned his gaze towards you and the beautiful smile that lit up your whole face as you and Rebecca were continuing your conversation from before.

Bucky sighed, feeling his heart swell even more as he realized he didn’t have to ask what his family thought about you, each of them unable to hold back their own smiles. They like you as much as he does, they want you to be with him as much as he does and if they knew how much of an idiot he’s been, denying his feelings for so long they would definitely cause a scene. But Bucky knows it won’t be long before he finally tells you.

So many scenarios went through his mind; inviting you to dinner next weekend and planning a whole speech, bursting through your door tomorrow night spilling out all the words in his heart in a mess of emotions, kiss you tonight, tomorrow, any day, every day! It doesn’t matter how, he just wants you to know.

His thoughts were interrupted by Scott and Hope making their entrance and sharing their first dance in front of everyone. Bucky reined in his thoughts that imagined the two of you in their place, a concept he never gave much attention to before believing it wasn’t for him, but with you by his side…

“Oh how sweet!” your voice beamed, pulling Bucky back to reality.

Cassie had run out onto the dance floor, swaying side to side with Hope and her father holding their hands. Scott lifted her into his arms, slinging her on his hip as Hope moved close enough for both of them to plant a kiss on both of her cheeks at the same time.

The photographer captured the moment along with so many more memories as the night went on especially when Scott’s best man Luis gave a very entertaining (and somewhat never ending) toast. You and Rebecca ran into him at the bar, unable to get much of a word in as Luis enthusiastically rambled on about how happy he is to be at Scott’s wedding.

“When I first met Scotty he was in a bed place, and I’m not talking about cell block D. His wife had just filed for divorce. And I was like, ‘Damn homie, she dumped you while you were in lock up?’ And he was like ‘Yeah I know. I thought I was gonna be with her forever but now I’m all alone!’ And I was like, ‘Damn homie, you gotta chin up. ‘Cause you’ll find a new partner.’ And he did! And it all started when I was at a wine tasting with my cousin Ernesto…”

You were focused on Luis’ very detailed story unaware of Bucky’s eyes on you from across the room. He was startled by Scott, squeezing his shoulders from behind and Bucky turned around to give his cousin a congratulatory hug.

“You haven’t told her yet, huh?” Scott said, his lips pulling into a crooked smile. Bucky’s brows knit together confused. “I see the way you look at her.”

Bucky sighed, looking at Scott without replying. There was nothing to say; he was caught staring at you from the far side of the room because he was too much of a coward to tell you how he felt.

“Hey I know you might be scared. After divorcing Maggie I was terrified, thought I’d never be able to put myself out there again and then I found Hope.”

Bucky sees the smile crinkling your eyes, hears your laughter that’s sweeter than music. “You’re right Scott, I have been scared… but I’m not anymore.” A content smile spreads across his face.

There’s a calm sense of relief that washes over Bucky as he knows with certainty that there is nothing he’s ever wanted more in his life. The universe is with him, ending the fast paced song that matched the beat of his heart to something slow and romantic.

Bucky strides across the hallway like he’s floating on a cloud until he reaches you. The words flow like smooth honey as he asked, “Would you like to dance?”

His hand is soft against yours, your whole body giddy with delight as he guides you to the dance floor. Time moves in slow motion, the world around you fading away as Bucky takes your hand in his, moving his other to the small of your back.

It was intimate, close and exactly how you wanted it to be. You let out a soft sigh as you relaxed into his embrace, letting your free arm glide up the fabric of his suit, curving it over his shoulder and looking deeply into his eyes. His pupils were blown with desire as Bucky stared back at you, the corners of his mouth twitching with an ever so slight smile.

Words were not spoken as you swayed together with the music but you both felt a change; like breathing foreign air, something felt different. You and Bucky danced in a world of your own, the past a distant memory that held your fears behind, finally allowing your heart to soar freely.

A smile pulled at your lips, one that felt brighter than the sun as you truly let go of everything that was holding you back. You moved closer, letting yourself drown in Bucky’s intoxicating scent, like cinnamon toasting over a warm fire as you nuzzled your nose into his neck.

He squeezed you tighter, his heart doing backflips in his chest, unable to fathom that this was actually happening. His nose grazes along the shell of your ear and you hear the soft inhalation of breath coming from his parted lips. A wave of tingles ran down your spine, shocking yourself into remembering you and Bucky were not alone but very much in the middle of a public setting surrounded by his family.

You pulled back to his surprise but the smile that would never cease to leave your face calmed his nerves.

“Follow me,” you purred, not letting go of Bucky’s hand as you led him outside.

A few people were scattered outside on the patio, some gathered around the high top tables that still remained, enjoying their drinks over conversation. You smiled over your shoulder back at Bucky, pulling him further away until you reached the area where the ceremony took place. The chairs had been cleared but the archway remained, the fabric wrapped around it still blowing in the wind.

You stopped at the edge of the railing, looking out onto the water as moonlight danced on the gentle waves. Goosebumps prickled all over your skin but you couldn’t be sure if it was from the breeze or Bucky standing close beside you.

The beating of your heart grew faster and you wondered if he could hear the drumming through your chest. A lump was caught in your throat as you felt Bucky’s hand cover yours on the railing. You turned your head to face him, slowly lifting your eyes from his perfect lips, the sight of them made you lick your own, meeting his eyes, the darkness reflecting a moonlit sparkle.

The memory of your New Years kiss made you shiver, letting a shaky breath out as you turned your body to face him, letting your hands wrap around his neck, his hands resting on your waist, closing the distance between you.

It wasn’t New Years, it wasn’t even the Fourth of July but you felt fireworks erupting in your stomach as you kissed, his soft lips massaging yours with a passionate fervor that grew by the second. You needed more, parting your lips for his skillful tongue to slip past them, deepening the kiss and loving the way he moaned as your hand scratched through his hair.

Distant laughter reminded you once again that you were still not alone but in the moment you really wanted to be. When the need for air became too great you pulled away.

“I missed that,” you admitted through a smile, catching your breath.

Bucky caressed your cheek gently with his fingers, his whole face lighting up in delight. “Would you believe me if I said the same?”

“Maybe,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck again.

“Would you believe me if I told you how I can’t get you off my mind? That ever since you came into my life I’ve been fighting the feelings I’ve had for you?” You nodded softly at his admission believing every word, knowing that what you’ve been feeling wasn’t just in your imagination, that things between you and Bucky had changed and finally the truth was out.

“I’m tired of fighting them,” he said, “I– ” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, sweetly stealing a soft kiss as you hummed against him.

Your smiles could not be contained, staring deeply into each other’s eyes under the silver glow of the moonlight. You would have stayed that way for longer had you not heard the echo of a voice coming from inside. Bucky peeked over your shoulder to see other people heading back in for the cake cutting.

With your fingers laced together you went back inside, taking your seats and ignoring the smirk Rebecca and Winnie had on their faces after noticing your lipstick was no longer existent, not on your lips at least. Luckily their eyes were focused on the newlyweds and not on Bucky’s hand which casually found its way to your thigh, his thumb gently running back and forth over the smooth material of your dress.

Scott dabbed a bit of frosting on the tip of Hope’s nose as she smushed a larger piece on his face, laughing and happily kissing his messy mouth to a round of cheers. The night continued with more dancing and Bucky’s family leaving just after the garter and bouquet toss.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Winnie said, having added you as a friend on Facebook. “George barbecues a lot over the summer so I hope to see you and James more often.” She wrapped you in a strong embrace, followed by Rebecca who had given you their Instagram, hoping to keep in touch as well.

George said goodbye with a friendly hug, reiterating your invitation. “James may be the musician but I’m the maestro of the barbecue.”

Bucky let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose, his embarrassment making you chuckle even more at his dad’s joke. Opening their arms to each other they hugged, and Bucky said goodbye to everyone.

“Get home safe!” Bucky called out as they walked down the hall.

You and Bucky stayed for a little while longer before saying goodnight to Hope, Scott and a few others, waiting outside of the main entrance for your Uber to arrive. Your lower lip trembled from the cold but less than a moment later you felt the weight of Bucky’s jacket around your shoulders. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek that added to the warmth you felt.

The Uber arrived shortly and once you were settled inside you leaned your head against Bucky’s shoulder. His arm wrapped around you, rubbing your own through his jacket as your hand caressed his for the duration of the ride back to the hotel.

Bucky helped you out of the car, his jacket slipping off your shoulders as you stood up. You didn’t need it anymore, feeling warmth spread through your body from his touch. The walk to the elevator was short and quiet, both of you holding back awkward smiles and smitten feelings.

When the doors opened to your floor you felt your heart pounding louder with every step that brought you closer to the hotel room. Bucky swiped the card into the door, holding it open for you as it unlocked. The beating amplified when you heard the door shut and Bucky turning the locks. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide anymore, not with both of your feelings out there.

He laid his jacket over the chair as you set your clutch to the side. His steps were hesitant, full of tension as he got closer to you, finally finding the courage to take your hands in his. Up close you could see the blush that brightened his cheeks, smiling at the way he licked his lips, sucking his bottom one into his mouth and nervously chewing on it.

You brought your hand up to cup his cheek, feeling the beginnings of stubble scratch at your palm. Lifting his gaze to yours you locked eyes with Bucky, seeing the retreat of blue as they grew darker the longer you stared at each other. Exhaling a shaky breath you moved your hand to the nape of his neck bringing him closer as you pressed your lips against his.

With that touch the dam of restraint broke and Bucky was kissing you back, his hands cupping the side of your face, your jaw, anywhere and everywhere as he deepened the kiss. Your hands were roaming his body, grazing across the strong muscles of his back and down his sides again as you held on to his waist.

Gulps of breath were quick as the need to make out was greater than oxygen, but when you did stop to fill your lungs with air you smiled against each other, foreheads and noses touching before he would capture your lips again, sucking softly on your bottom lip. You hummed against him, parting your lips for his tongue to slip inside and caress yours.

You gasped when the back of your knees unexpectedly hit the edge of the mattress, quickly losing your balance and pulling Bucky down with you. He braced himself with one arm above you, smiling at the way your face lit up beautifully with laughter. Bucky waited for you to center your gaze on him again before he brought his lips back to yours. His kiss was soft and slow, passionate and needy, wanting to prolong every second with you and hoping this wasn’t a dream. If it was he never wanted to wake up, preferring to spend the rest of his existence here with you in this perfect world.

His mouth explored your body, running his tongue down your skin until you gasped when he discovered that sensitive spot where your collarbone and neck met. Bucky smirked as you writhed against him, letting a sultry moan fall from your lips as he sucked your skin gently.

The sound alone made him hard and your hips lifting against his didn’t help. Bucky pulled away breathless, knowing he had to stop despite wanting this to never end.

“I can’t, we…” He swallowed dryly, bringing one hand to cup the soft skin of your cheek. “I don’t have protection.”

Not bringing condoms on a weekend that practically guaranteed sex did not sound like the man you first knew who was banging his way through every woman in Manhattan, but Bucky hasn’t been that man in a long time. Somehow over the course of your friendship he’s grown, changed into the person that admitted to what even he thought was impossible, having feelings and wanting more than just sex.

Bucky crawled back off of you, digging his knees into the mattress as he blew out harsh breaths to try and handle his situation accordingly. A smile spread slowly across your face as you pushed yourself up from the bed, quickly moving out of the way as Bucky swung his legs over the side as you remembered what Wanda thankfully snuck into your bag.

Feeling awkward and embarrassed, Bucky didn’t pay much attention to what you were doing, not lifting his head until he saw you standing in front of him with something in your hand.

“I have them,” you said firmly, opening your palm to reveal the package of condoms, the foil reflecting off the light. Your chest heaved with anticipation until Bucky’s eyes met yours.

The shock on his face was clear, never expecting any of this to happen. His back stiffened cautiously as he asked with trepidation, “Are you sure? We don’t have to– ”

“I know. I want to.”

Simple words, simple truths.

The corner of Bucky’s mouth pulled into a smile as you stepped in between his legs, leaning in to tease your lips against his but not give in to what he wanted. Instead you pushed on his chest to make him lay flat on the mattress, lifting the fabric of your dress you got on the bed to straddle him.

Bucky swallowed a dry gulp, his hands skimming first up your thighs and then your waist as you leaned forward to hover over him again. This time he doesn’t let you tease him. He took your lips feverishly, letting your tongues dance in a passionate tango. Your hips begin to move, grinding against his arousal and he whimpers against your mouth.

He gets the urge to tear off your clothes and fuck you hard into the mattress and if you were anyone else he would have, but Bucky doesn’t want this to be about sex. He wants to do something he hasn’t done in a very long time, connect with someone physically and emotionally at once.

Soft hands cup your cheeks, holding your face above him as Bucky stares deeply past your eyes and into your heart. A tender smile pulls at his mouth, one that makes you slow down and smile back at him, letting out soft exhalations that try to match the beat of his.

He sets the tempo, lifting his head to press his lips gently against yours, his hand running up and down your back. Cradled in his arms, Bucky shifted so that you were both lying side by side, his lips never leaving yours, swallowing every moan that fell from your heavenly mouth.

Your hands roamed his body; caressing the back of his head as you deepened the kiss with your tongue, feeling solid muscle beneath his shirt as you rubbed down his chest. His hands brushed against your thigh, over the globes of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You can’t help the moan that escapes as a dull ache radiates from your core.

Instinctively, your hips move against him craving more friction as your hands make quick work of his belt. His hand skimmed up your side, cupping your breast, his thumb brushing over your stiff nipple.

The breath stilled in your throat like the measure of time around you, slowing down enough so you could see every touch, feel the brush of his lips; each one the scratch of a pen on a music sheet, creating a song one note at a time.

Open mouth kisses trailed down your skin leaving you breathless as his hands pulled down the fluttering sleeves of your dress. Unclasping the buttons of his shirt, you peeled it off his body as he reached around to tug down your zipper, letting the fabric fall off you. You were drawn to each other’s bodies, warm mouths on warm skin that grew hotter by the moment.

A steady cadence of moans falls from your lips as Bucky worships you with his mouth. It’s better than anything you imagined on those nights when headphones blocked out the primal sounds of pleasure coming from next door. The pitch of your cries reaches new heights as he sends you over the edge, hands grabbing at his hair from between your thighs to brace yourself.

Blue eyes tainted dark with lust peek open to watch your writhe in ecstasy as you come undone. Bucky stays with you through it, his hands laced with yours as your body comes down from blissful heaven. He kisses his way up your body pulling soft moans and gasps from you along the way until he found your lips again; aching, hungry, desperate for his tongue.

You ease him to his back, kissing down Bucky’s neck until you reach the band of his briefs. Your eyes widen at the outline of his arousal, he lifts his hips to help you slide them off and your legs clench together at the sight of his thick cock springing up and slapping his stomach. He quivered with anticipation as you take him in your hands, a low groan rumbling in his throat as he watches himself disappear into your warm mouth.

Euphoric pleasure washes over Bucky as you hum around him, his moans becoming a sweet melody to your ear. Before it’s too much he pulls you off of him, grabbing your face in a plea for your lips against his. He skims his hands along the bed searching for the condom, having to get up to find it as you settle onto your back. The wrapper is torn open, the condom sliding down on his length.

Bucky takes a moment to look at you, to really look at you in a way he’s never taken the time before when he’s been with someone. Your smile lights up his heart and he presses his lips against yours softly. You wonder if he’s waiting for a sign, staring up at his smile stretched out so far he can hardly contain it. With a roll of your hips you rock against him and after losing himself in your eyes Bucky almost forgets what’s supposed to come next– almost.

Wetness gathers on his length and he pushes in gently, his gasps harmonizing with yours as he fills you completely. His lips are on your again because Bucky can’t help it, hooked like a drug on the immediate relief that comes with the investment of his heart.

The rhythm is set by the slow thrust of his hips, you claw at his back as he deepens his sensual pace, the friction bringing you closer and closer. It’s not long before you shudder around him, the first of many times that have you crying out his name; wondering but ultimately not caring if these walls were as thin as the ones in your apartment.

Your cries reach a new octave as he orchestrates your pleasure, thrusting to meet your hips as you ride him. Together you create a symphony that crescendos as you ride the waves of bliss together, the melody forever imprinting on his soul. Breathless, your lips find each other’s, molding together perfectly as you slowly come down; bodies covered in a sheen of sweat that makes you glow.

You whimper as you untangle from each other, immediately missing his warmth. Bucky tied off the condom, getting up to toss it in the small bin beside the desk. The wiggle of his butt made a smile form on your face that grew as he got back into bed, the weight of his arm curling around you and pulling you close against him. Bucky’s fingertips stroked your skin as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. His lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as you rubbed his chest, humming softly as your spent body relaxed into his.

“Tired?” he asked through a rasped whisper. You hummed in response and Bucky adjusted the blankets over you. “Go to sleep, I’ve got you.” The breath of his murmurs fall gently against your head.

Reaching to the side he clicked off the table lamp. In the darkness his lips found yours a final time, stealing a sweet kiss before you adjusted yourself against him again. Your palm rested above his heart and Bucky wondered if you could feel the way it was still beating with elation. He covered your hand with his, hearing you let out a soft hum as you smiled against him.

The bed is warm, made warmer with your bodies tangled together. Bucky listens in silence to the gentle sounds you make as you drift asleep. He syncs his breath with yours, turning his head ever so slightly to place a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead. The rhythm of his heart relaxes to a beat he’s never felt before, one that fills his body and soul with a warm and fuzzy feeling that makes him feel like he would float away if you weren’t resting on him.

A smile secured itself on Bucky’s face as he fell asleep realizing that this feeling might actually be love.

You woke up feeling like last night was a dream, but the weight of Bucky behind you brought you quickly back to reality, one you never imagined would be yours.

His arm was wrapped around your waist keeping your bodies close, a shocking difference of the Bucky you knew that kicked his late night lovers out as quickly as possible. Then again Bucky isn’t that person anymore.

He was still asleep, feeling the breath from his nose against the back of your neck and as much as you needed to get up you stayed in bed for as long as possible, cherishing every moment spent in his arms.

You sensed when he woke up not long after. Bucky inhaled deeply, letting out a soft hum.

“Hey neighbor,” you whispered softly, rubbing his arm that was draped across your waist.

He tightened his hold, squeezing you even closer, smiling at the faint scent of perfume that lingered on your neck. You squirmed as he nuzzled the tip of his cold nose into it, leaving a trail of soft kisses along your skin.

“Mornin’ beautiful,” he rasped.

You tilted your head back, trying to get a glimpse of him but it was easier to turn around completely. Bucky still held you as you twisted to face him, staring up at his beautiful half-sleepy smile and soft gaze that shined like the sun as he looked at you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, his fingers lightly tracing your face. You nodded, a smile pulling so strong as your eyes beamed with happiness. “Good.”

He kissed you sweetly, soft pecks for your sake that were mindful of the morning breath he felt. He should get up to brush his teeth but Bucky didn’t want to, instead he rested his head against your shoulder, curling himself around you and smiling when he felt your arms wrap around him.

Bucky never knew how badly he missed a feeling he never had, feeling comforted in someone’s arms. He never knew how amazing it was to wake up with someone, to cuddle with them, hold them and be held. He’s slept with countless people but no amount of sex has ever equaled what he felt in this moment.

He could scold himself for missing out on this for so long but he doesn’t, because now he has the opportunity to share all these firsts with you and he hopes you’ll be his last.

The scratch of your nails running lazily through his hair made Bucky practically purr against you, the simple act awakening all of his senses, igniting his body in a way that could only be quenched by the heat of your skin against his.

He smirks at the memory of your taste, lifting his gaze to find the coy smile curving your lips. It seems he’s not the only one craving more exploration of each other’s bodies. Bucky reaches forward to bring his lips to yours, morning breath be damned. Neither of you cared anyway, quickly giving in to the flames of desire that spread like wildfire through your bodies.

It’s different now, when the morning sun reveals more truth in Bucky eyes, in the way he looks deep into your own as you climb the heights of passion together. Fingers entwined, breathless moans falling from his mouth, foreheads pressed together as he claims your lips, holding your body tightly as you fall apart around him as if this would all disappear if he let go. Every look, every touch; that was the difference. Bucky was giving every part of himself to you, opening up in a way he had never done before with anyone.

His hips stuttered as he climaxed, crying out with a groan that softened as your hands cupped his cheeks, stealing what little breath he had left as you brought your lips to his. He smiled against you, catching his breath in between soft kisses.

Bucky was quick to discard the condom and reclaim his spot beside you, opening his arms for you to cuddle close against him, keeping you warm as the aftershocks of pleasure shudder through your body. His hand rubbed circles on your back and the press of his lips on your forehead made you exhale through a content smile.

You stayed in his arms for as long as you could before desperately needing to use the bathroom, with Bucky laughing as you untangled your legs from his and the covers, sprinting naked off the bed. He laid back, arms folded under his head unable to contain his smile. This weekend has been greater than anything he could have ever dreamed of and the best is yet to come.

You scurry out of the bathroom towards your bag, throwing on a t-shirt for modesty before pulling out the clothes you would be changing into. Bucky watched as the sun streaming in through the window glowed around you, the angel that broke the confines of his heart.

There was less of a rush to the rest of the morning, having missed breakfast but still having time before you needed to check out. You checked your phone in between changing, seeing a flurry of messages come in from the group chat, plus Wanda and Steve sending separate ones to check in.

You heard Bucky get up from the bed but didn’t turn around because it still felt awkward. A good awkward as the butterflies in your stomach were still fluttering wildly, bit still whatever this was between you was undefined and you didn’t want to presume anything.

“Hey…” Bucky began slowly, and turning around you saw he was fully dressed except for his sneakers, hands in the pockets of his jeans with his shoulders shrugged up.

He looked like a little kid who thought he might be in trouble and it made you feel good to know you weren’t the only one who didn’t know how to act around each other. When you flashed him a smile Bucky relaxed, letting the tension go from his shoulders. He reached his hands out to take yours, holding both of them close to his heart.

Letting out a nervous breath he said, “Y/N, I want you to know that I meant what I said last night, every word.” Your smile slowly reached your eyes as he spoke. “And I never expected us to…” Bucky licked his lips, looking down as he felt his cheeks begin to flush at the memory of what happened. “It was incredible, you’re incredible, but maybe we could take things slow?”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, sincerity woven through an unease smile as he waited for an answer. But he didn’t have to wait long. You nodded quickly, never losing eye contact as you smiled, reassuring him you could take things at whatever pace he needed. Bucky kissed your knuckles before letting your hands go, surprised to feel them around him instantly in a hug that dissolved any lingering concerns he had about his request.

Any awkward tension had dissipated by the time you pulled away, leaving nothing but the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the sound of your stomach hangrily rumbling. Bucky chuckled, feeling his own about to rival yours in volume so he sifted through the bag from your initial CVS run to find something to eat.

You satisfied your hunger with a protein bar each, splitting some almonds and topping it off with sparkling water, that you still worried would explode upon opening by the way Bucky quickly pulled it from the small fridge. Eating as you packed, you made sure nothing was left in the room. Bucky packed your dress up with his suit again and when you were ready he arranged an Uber to the train station.

Walking hand in hand to the elevator, Bucky stole an innocent kiss, unable to help himself. He wanted to show you just how much he cared now that the truth he held back for so long was finally out there. His affectionate touches continued all the way home, as Bucky slung his arm over you during the ride back to Manhattan.

“Wanna go out for some lunch?” he asked, as you approached your apartment building.

You nodded approvingly, listing a slew of places you could go for since breakfast wasn’t actually filling. Bucky opened the front door for you, resuming the placement of his fingers laced with yours once you were both inside.

The air in the building felt different, as if the walls themselves were watching you, whispering about what might be happening between two of their residents. The elevator opened, taking you to your floor with a jerking gasp when you and Bucky kissed inside of it.

Your bags were dropped off in your respective apartments, taking the elevator back down just as quickly as you came up to go for lunch, which was actually going to be breakfast. Bucky suggested a spot a few blocks away you had been to once before, an unassuming deli with an all day breakfast menu, though you hadn’t had the pleasure of trying their well known breakfast fare. You were looking forward to stuffing yourself sweet French toast and sugary syrup, hoping to spend the rest of the day lounging in Bucky’s arms.

“Bucky! Hey!” A woman's voice pulled you away from your lazy Sunday daydream.

You both turned around at the woman who just jogged past you, stopping to catch her breath. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to you.”

She was taller than average, showing off lean legs of unblemished light brown skin in the athletic shorts she wore. A large sweat stain soaked through the front of her grey tank top, her long dark hair a little messy but not really out of place.

“C-Claire?” Bucky stuttered, not expecting to run into her let alone remember her name. “Hey…”

“Sorry I didn’t get back to you. The hospital put me on night shifts the past week, it’s been hard to adjust. We still on for Saturday night?”

Sound was ringing in your ear like a bomb exploded in front of you and it had, in the form of Bucky being a lying scumbag. His snake like words charmed his way into your heart as a ploy to take off your pants and you complied with ease.

When the world was no longer a muffled haze you realized you and Bucky were alone again, with Claire probably continuing her work out; she has to look good for her date with Bucky at the end of the week. Maybe he was “taking it slow” with her too. You bit your lip before the quiver could show, feeling like an idiot for not knowing better. Bucky didn’t change and he never would.

“I’m so sorry about that. I never– ”

You were done with hearing any more of Bucky’s lies, retorting with one of your own.

“Shit! I just realized I was supposed to help Wanda finish unpacking today. She’s gonna kill me, I gotta run.”

You didn’t give Bucky the chance to speak, ignoring the way he pleaded for you to come back. Taking off towards the nearest subway, you ran down the stairs as fast as you could, at risk of tripping thanks to the tears that flooded your eyes. Wanda’s new place was much closer, and after a few quick stops you were in front of her door, sobbing heavily as you fell into her arms.

PART 21

[a-funny-little-sunflower]

♡ Yandere Ecthelion Alphabet ♡

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He shows his affection by playing the flute for you, or by cuddling with you in your shared chamber. He also likes doing small intimate things for you like making you tea or reading to you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Ecthelion is an elven lord and is perfectly capable of protecting you. He is more trusting of his beloved than Glorfindel, but he is still highly protective and is completely willing to drown anyone that looks at you wrong.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Ecthelion cherishes you and is quite trusting of you but he does worry for your safety. He does try to keep you inside but he’s also willing to let you do things on your own and give you some freedom. Within reason of course.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He would most likely try to keep you from going to places where he doesn’t have easy access. If you’re going to somewhere where he won’t be able to easily get to you if something happens, then there will be a big problem.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Ecthelion keeps a hard border up around everyone else, but the second you two are alone, the barrier comes down and he’s completely ready for cuddles.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He cherishes you and he gives you quite a bit of freedom compared to other yandere’s, so he doesn’t see the reason for you to fight back, so he’s left feeling very confused and upset.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

His protective nature stems from his desperate need to protect you, so everything he feels is genuine emotion and he isn’t trying to cruel or evil towards you in any way.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Ecthelion will get jealous at times, and although he is normally quite calm, it does happen. When you have given your attention to a simple guard for too long, he will stride over to the pair of you, with a cold look in eyes that means his authority isn’t to be challenged, take you by the hand and away with you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

A nice house by the sea and a child or two sounds wonderful.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He does get jealous when you spend too much time talking to someone that isn’t close to you personally, like for example, a random guard.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He cherishes you more than life, and he loves to have cuddle sessions with you. He will often be found laying in between your legs, with his head on your chest and if you run your hands through his hair, he’ll melt.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He is very adept at writing sweet melodies on his flute for you, and his first attempt at courtship happens during a banquet. He will play a beautiful song on his flute, all the while his eyes never leave yours.

Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He keeps a cold and stern exterior around everyone else, the only exception being a few friends and most importantly, you. Around his beloved, he is sweet and is constantly fawning over them.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He would take away some of your privileges like you aren’t allowed to go and meet your friends without his permission or if he was being more severe, then you wouldn’t even be allowed to leave the house on your own.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

If Ecthelion notices that he doesn’t quite trust one of your friends, then he will most likely stop you from seeing them, by any means necessary.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He is quite patient with you because he loves and cherishes you, but he will get to a point that he starts taking away privileges.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He is an elf, and they only truly love once, and if you died, he would most definitely fade. If you ever left, he would send out a search party to find you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Ecthelion is quite unforgiving in this regard because, in his eyes, you are his, so there is no reason to feel guilty for taking you, and no reason to let you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Ecthelion was born a yandere, he just didn’t realise it until you because he no reason for those feelings to surface until he met you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It upsets him but he sees it more as you are having a temper tantrum and will just let you get it all out, and then comfort you.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He will give you freedom if you behave well, and he’s more trusting of you than other yandere would be.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit to escape?

His darling could use his trusting nature against him. If you are on your best behaviour for months on end, then it will help towards a sudden escape.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

If you had been misbehaving for quite a while, he would be especially rough in bed, which includes biting and pulling your hair, and making sure that your screams can be heard for everyone to know who you belong to.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He cherishes you like a rare jewel that has never before been seen, and he wants to keep you all for himself and will shed rivers of blood for you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Ecthelion was born a yandere, so as soon as he meets you, that part of him is awoken and demands that he has you now. And although he's normally quite controlled when it comes to you, he will be desperate to have you, so he will begin plans to court you almost immediately.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

He gives you quite a bit of freedom, so if you behave well, there isn’t a reason for him to break you but if you were adamant at misbehaving, his breaking of you would be slow. His control over every aspect of your life would eventually break your mind and leave you obedient and desperate for any affection he gives you.

[popatochisssp]

ok poppy i'm rereading some of your stuff and reading about proposals and my hopelessly romantic ass needs, NEEDS, to know how the new bois would propose to their s/o.

*cracks knuckles*

Romance ahoy!

Ash (Undergloom Sans): Pretty mundane, all things considered, he’s not really an over-the-top sorta guy. By the time he proposes, you’ve almost definitely had at least a handful casual conversations about getting hitched, just to make sure you’re on the same page about the idea. And then, you find the ring, hidden at the bottom of a basket of fries at Grillby’s (because of course it’s at Grillby’s) and the question in his eye-lights when you look back up at him. He won’t say it out loud, he wants you to have the out of shoving it back at him or maybe just quietly taking it if you’re not up for a scene--but if you lick the grease and salt off that puppy and slip it on your finger, you’re already in the best place to celebrate your engagement with all your friends and family!

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): Paralyzed by indecision on how to ask you, quite frankly. You’re his s/o, and very special and important to him, so he wants it to be perfect, exactly what you want... but how??? He spends months looking up proposal ideas, asking friends and family for advice, practically stressing himself to tears over how much he wants this to happen but just can’t decide on how to do it! You’re almost guaranteed to find out about it before he follows through on anything, and honestly, you should probably propose on his behalf. The tears will finally come then, but they’ll be happy ones, and hopefully the two of you can laugh about it later that it was his idea and he had everything ready, but you had to be the one to ask just to make it happen.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): Once he’s decided that he really wants to be with you on a permanent basis, he’d like to make the proposal really special and memorable for you… but he doesn’t really have any ideas. He’s…not the most creative, or spontaneous, and everything he’s come up with feels boring or clichéd… In the end, the only thing he can think of is to just... rehearse and memorize a little speech-- the usual pre-proposal stuff, like what you mean to him, how much he loves you, the future he wants to have with you... He writes it all down, everything he wants to say to you, and drills it, over and over until he’s got every word down perfectly with no pauses or wrong signs or stand-in-words for what he actually means, like there usually are when you talk to him. When the time comes, it’s the skeleton-equivalent of muscle memory and he delivers his speech perfectly, flawlessly for you, ending on the classic ‘will you marry me?’ and watching carefully for your answer. (If it’s ‘yes,’ you can bet he’ll still remember the speech, word for word, years later and be able to repeat it to you whenever you ask-- your fifth, tenth, twentieth anniversary and beyond.)

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): Probably disappointing, honestly. He’s a very restrained and understated type of person, not the type to make a fuss, even about this. Honestly, you’ll be with him so long and so harmoniously that everyone you know will be assuming you’re already married before he’s ever said anything to you about it. And then, one day... he tells you that he’s looked into it and that it’d be relatively easy to make things official, he already knows the forms to fill out and the pieces of identification you’ll need, if that’s something you’d like to do. Not...very romantic...definitely not much of a wow factor... but you might feel at least a little flutter if you agree, because he’ll take your hand and press the back of it to his teeth and follow it up with, “GOOD. LET’S GET ON WITH FOREVER, THEN.” And he does mean that-- he only plans on marrying once, and you’re it for him.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): You’ll find him in the kitchen, getting a little baking done. He’ll tell you, straight-faced and straight to your face, that he’s making a proposal cake...and ask if you’d like to help. You’ll probably assume it’s a paid project of his, for a client, and he’ll encourage your misunderstanding every step of the way. (Bonus points if you happen to have any comments--positive or negative--about the guy who’s proposing to his datemate with a cake!) The two of you will be flirting and cooperating and having a nice afternoon together making this cake--mixing the batter, putting on the frosting, carefully decorating it-- and it probably won’t occur to you that every part of it, from the flavors to the colors are exactly to your tastes... at least, not until he’s piping ‘Will You Marry Me’ on top and then spells out your name. The cheeky son of a bitch got you to help him bake your own proposal. He’ll slide the cake over to you with a patient smile while he waits for it to click, and to hear your answer to the question.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): He’s definitely going to take a long time to get around to it, lots of hesitating and talking himself into and out of it. You’ll mostly likely be cuddled together, in the middle of the night, when he can’t wait anymore and nudges you awake to ask how you feel about doing something stupid. (It’s a prime opportunity for an ‘I’m doing you, aren’t I?’ joke, and honestly that might loosen a little bit of the tension for him if you’re quick enough on the draw to make it.) He’ll hem and haw and talk around it for awhile if you choose to probe into what he had in mind, but he’ll go for broke sooner or later and say that it’s marrying him, that he was thinking about. The stupid thing. That he...wondered if you would...do... He has a ring, which he fishes out from underneath the pillow, but the self-consciousness will start hitting him around then, and he probably won’t be able to look you in the eye as he sheepishly nudges it at you, waiting for your answer. If it just so happens to be ‘yes,’ well... he’ll probably be smiling into your shoulder all night and well into the morning.

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): He wants an organic moment and he’ll wait as long as he needs to for a natural, intimate moment where it just feels right to ask. It’ll probably be a morning, early but not so early that the sun isn’t coming through the windows and making everything feel warm and pleasant as you start the day. Domesticity in its purest form, he’d most like to catch you getting some chores done with a little music playing, the perfect excuse to sweep you into a playful, spontaneous waltz across the floor... And somewhere between the twirling and the laughter and the kisses ruined by smiling, there it is--“MARRY ME...” No ring, no collar, and no real plan for what you might say after, but you can figure that out together, can’t you?

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): He pops the question as far from home as possible, out in the great big world. The specific location isn’t important to him, it could be anywhere as long as it’s beautiful and new to him and he’s all the way out there with you. He may not have intended to come on vacation just to do this, so he’s definitely not prepared, but it reminds him how far he’s come and how he never could’ve predicted he’d end up here, with all this, and that inspires him; giving him the confidence to propose without hesitation. He’ll take your hand in his, look you in the eye, and just ask: “will you marry me?” He just...knows that it’s something that he wants and he hopes that you feel the same way.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): Guaranteed to be a spur of the moment thing, completely off-the-cuff. After you’ve been together awhile, after it’s clear that you two are a Serious Thing and probably in it for the long haul, it could happen pretty much anytime, anywhere... but probably on some adventure you’re on, whether that’s an aimless drive to nowhere, a ‘hey I’ve never done that before, let’s do it’ outing, or even just hitting up a convenience store for snacks in the middle of the night. You’ll just be laughing, having a good time together, living in the moment, and he’ll catch your eye and… “hey. let’s get married!” Spontaneous, but not thoughtless-- if he says it, he means it completely, so there’s no need to worry about him taking it back. He’s just too excited about the idea to not tell you about it immediately, as soon as it pops into his head. Still, he won’t be offended if you doubt the offer at first, and he’d be very happy to talk it out with you--where it came from, how he feels about you, why he wants it-- until you believe him and can maybe start thinking about an answer to give him. Take your time, he can wait, as long as it’s with you!

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): His is very much the Traditional Romantic Proposal-- a meaningful location for the both of you (where you met, first date, first said ‘I love you’, take your pick) where you can recreate that lovely evening with each other’s company and your fond nostalgia. You’ll probably have the sense that it’s coming long before he ever actually asks, but he won’t be hurried along for anything. You’re making memories here and everything in its own time! The biggest difference from his and the Traditional Romantic Proposal is that when it is finally time to pop the question, he won’t go down on one knee. He won’t do anything that might draw unnecessary attention to himself and to you, and won’t involve anyone else in this—no friends and family, no helpful waiters hiding rings, no spectators gawking at you in passing. This moment isn’t for sharing, it belongs to just the two of you: no pressure, no judgment, and no expectations, just a very simple, earnest question, asked with your hand in his. Before you’ve decided, he wants you to be comfortable enough to choose wholly without influence... and if your answer to the question is something to be celebrated, if your choice is him... Well, he’s happy to share that with anyone and everyone you please.

[plutoswrath]

I saw that you had an ask where someone was talking about 8th house overlays for platonic relationships and I’ve never seen anyone talk about platonic 8th house before. So I decided to talk with my sister because we actually have a mutual 8th house Mars in synastry. It was insightful as hell and we recognized a pattern because she and I have been surrounded by people with Mars in Pisces, all of which place in my sisters 8th. So we know that 8th house should make you possessive and we would always have to read 8th house synastry and try to interpret it platonically because people always sexualize it. It always talked about being obsessed with each other and being jealous and possessive. For context, my sister is the least jealous, possessive, and obsessive person I know. She has an Aquarius Mars, a lot of 10th house, and she just doesn’t ever feel that way. We both have Pluto in 5th and she only ever obsesses over her interests. BUT we noticed a pattern with every single person who’s Mars placed in her 8th and then other Pisces Mars’ who didn’t. With every 8th house overlay, she was extremely judgmental of who they surrounded themselves with. So with me, if she ever hated my friends that I would introduce to her, she would get mad that I stuck near them. But not because she was jealous, it was because she has her own dislike towards them and she lives by the ‘guilty by association’ saying. And with friends it was the same. She would zone in on who her 8th house overlay friends would hang out with and then if she didn’t approve of them, she’d ditch them. So if her friend hung out with bigoted kids who say racial slurs, sexist comments, etc. then she would immediately judge that friend. My sister said she would talk about certain people and why they weren’t good to surround yourself with and when that friend decided to conform to the bigoted friend group, she would finally cut the friendship off. We also have a mutual Mars in Pisces friend who she does the same thing with, except it’s more innocent. She will judge his friends immediately and they basically have to pass a morale/vibe check lmao. She’s very particular about certain things when it comes to people’s behavior so people rarely ever pass and it’s rather hilarious and light hearted but she will insult them if they do something dumb or are cringe in any way. For more context, my sister is a gifted ADHD Autistic kid so she can be very particular over behavior others will overlook even if they are bothered by them. My sister applies this to other people and we were excited to finally break down how our 8th house synastry and composite manifested because we always hear the worst things about it. We’ve noticed that 8th house is not for the undeveloped and when we see people trash talk it then we begin to raise our eyebrows at the ones who hate it. It may be rather mean of me to say but if people can’t handle 8th house then I think the the problem lies within the individual. My sister enjoys astrology but hates when patterns don’t line up so we basically wanted to thank you for the ask that prompted our deep dive into our 8th house that helped us finally connect and recognize the pattern. We’ve come to love 8th house synastry. On another note you can probably see our 8th house synastry just off of how much I’ve brought her up and love her lol. We have a lot of mutual respect for one another and we noticed that when she was younger she wanted everyone to know I was her sister which may be another little 8th house note. But we have a lot 10th house synastry too so it could just be that mutual respect. Sorry for the tangent but I was excited to share. I hope you’re doing well and I wish you the best.

Disclaimer: long post, continue to read under the cut!

Thank you for sharing your in depth experience and observation. As someone who has two sisters as well and is very very close to them I can understand where you’re coming from. I too share with each of them a strong 8th house synastry and they do so with me too.  I agree that 8th house snyastry doesn’t have to be about jealousy, possession and obsession in the sense that most people think. Peopl assume it’s this dramatic burst of emotions that makes you go ‘oh your are mine’, but one way it can play out is defenitely in the protectivness you get over this person. This protectivness inclines this ‘possessivness/obessesion/jealousy’ if you will. 8th house synastry, especially when placed in personal planets can make two people merge so close together, the bond they share is build on ultimate vulnerability. If something happens or threatens to destroy this bond it’s going to hurt as hell, naturally. We not only have protection of the other person and the bond you share here, but 8th house in synastry talks about merging together and sharing your inner ressources - that’s why this overlay can feel so incredibly empowering (and can become possibly addictive, not being able to cut ties, in worst case scenarios). You are so much in the other persons mind and soul (as you tend to try to figure out the other person, especially the 8th house person), that you naturally care for their well being. You fact check the new people coming in their life, because you exactly know about your friends/partner/sibling vulnerable and raw side and as we all know about the archetype Scorpio: it will sting and even poison you if you try to hurt it. 

That can definitely be one of the 8th house effect. Even if you are not possessive and jealous by nature, the 8th house synastry touches so many sensitive spots, it will awake classic Scorpionic traits in people, sucha scanning for real intentions, waiting to let ones guard down, etc. You might as well just call it serious concern if the situation calls for it that is (!!!), I have not only strong 8th house synastry with my siblings but with a lot of close friends of mine and none of us are possessive, jealous, or any of that sort, but we’re pretty much naturally very much in each others life because we want it like that. We really, really feel  the benefit of this deep bond, because it impowers us and makes us feel safe, because we’re able to and can trust and let go in front of/with the other!  And I will agree with you, 8th house synastry requires individuals who can handle it, or have Scorpio/8th house/Pluto in their own chart and know how to handle it.  I am not excusing and pushing blame on anyone who went through bad experiences here by the way, but I will state that 8th house synastry can be pretty much a blessing, but it does require the ability to either learn or to have knowledge, and the experience, as well as inner ressources on how to deal with it because it is a house that is meant to trigger. This doesn’t mean it is supposed to hurt all the time but chances are you will share very vulnerable moments of any kind with the person you have 8th house synastry with and thus leads to the intimate connection. 

Thank you again for opening this in depth conversation, and I think it’s absolutely sweet how you talk about the connection you have with your sister!! I do bring up my sibling a lot as well, they are my soulmates, so this really warms my heart!! <3 Thank you so much for the kind words as well, I hope you two are doing great as well and wish you only the best! xx

[madam-melon-meow]

Bisexual Kyoshi is something that can be so personal, actually

Panel edit by @flagellasturbation

[image I.D. : An edit of a comic panel of avatar Kyoshi. On the left in the image is a close-up of Kyoshi from the torso up, contained within an upside-down trapezoid shape. She wears her full battle uniform of olive and emerald robes, dark gloves and bracers, and a golden headpiece in a fan-like shape. Her eyes are the same emerald shade as her robes, she has black hair billowing to the left edge of the image, and her black eyebrows have been dramatically lengthened by black face paint. Her face and neck are artificially whitened with chalky makeup, she has black winged eyeliner, red eyeshadow that sweeps upwards to her temples and down the sides of her nose, and red lipstick outlined in black. This is the classic Kyoshi makeup. Her arms are crossed, the left arm behind her head pointing a golden fan away from the viewer, the right arm extended in front of her face, another golden fan pointed towards the viewer. She appears to be looking upwards and towards the right of the image. Above Kyoshi’s eye level and in the top right of the image is a comic text box. It reads in all caps: “even avatar Kyoshi- who by all accounts loved men and women- was unable to effect any kind of real progress.” The background art and color has been replaced with the Bisexual Flag, a thick horizontal line of pink on top, stopping at Kyoshi’s cheek level, then a thinner line of purple ending at her shoulders, and a thick line of blue that extends to the bottom of the image. End I.D.]

(If someone does not find my image I.D. sufficient, please let me know. This is my first time trying to make such a thing, as i am a lurker, not a poster)

Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee, page 99 (text copy / pasted from the b&n ebook version)

““Are those . . . fire lilies?” he said, a wide, knowing grin spreading across his face.

Kyoshi flushed beet red. “Stop it,” she said.

“That’s right,” Yun said. “The Ember Island tourism minister brought a bunch when he visited two weeks ago. I can’t believe you simply shred the flowers once they dry out. I guess nothing goes to waste in this house.”

“Knock it off,” Kyoshi snapped. But it was too hard keeping the corners of her lips from curling upward.

“Knock what off?” he said, enjoying her reaction. “I’m just commenting on a fragrance I’ve come to particularly enjoy.”

It was an inside reference that only the two of them shared. Rangi didn’t know. She hadn’t been there in the gifting room eight months ago while Kyoshi arranged a vast quantity of fire lilies sent by an admiral in the Fire Navy, one of Hei-Ran’s friends.

Yun had spent the afternoon watching Kyoshi work. Against every scrap of her better judgment, she’d allowed him to lie down on the floor and rest his head in her lap while she plucked deformed leaves and trimmed stems to the right length. Had anyone caught the two of them like that, there would have been a scandal that not even the Avatar could have recovered from.

That day, entranced by Yun’s upside-down features dappled with the flower petals she’d teasingly sprinkled over his face, she’d almost leaned down and kissed him. And he knew it. Because he’d almost reached up and kissed her.

They never spoke of it afterward, the shared impulse that had nearly crashed both of their carriages. It was too . . . well, they each had their duties was a good way to put it. That moment did not fit anywhere among their responsibilities.

But since then, whenever the two of them were in the presence of fire lilies, Yun’s eyes would dart toward the flowers repeatedly until he was sure Kyoshi noticed. She would try unsuccessfully to keep a straight face, the heat coloring her neck, and he’d sigh as if to mourn what could have been.

Today was no different. With a wistful blush on his own cheeks, Yun stared her down until her defenses broke and she let out a giggle through her nose.

“There’s that beautiful smile,” he said. He pressed his heels into the floor, sliding up against the wall, and straightened his rumpled shirt. “Kyoshi, trust me when I say this: If it turns out not to be me, I’ll be glad it’s you.”

~~~~~~~~~

Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee, page 210 (text copy / pasted from the b&n ebook version)

“You think you don’t deserve peace and happiness and good things, but you do!” Rangi yelled. “You, Kyoshi! Not the Avatar, but you!”

She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around Kyoshi’s waist. The embrace was a clever way to hide her face.

“Do you have any idea how painful it’s been for me to follow you on this journey where you’re so determined to punish yourself?” she said. “Watching you treat yourself like an empty vessel for revenge, when I’ve known you since you were a servant girl who couldn’t bend a pebble? The Avatar can be reborn. But you can’t, Kyoshi. I don’t want to give you up to the next generation. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Kyoshi realized she’d had it all wrong. Rangi was a true believer. But her greatest faith had been for her friends, not her assignment. She pulled Rangi in closer. She thought she heard a slight, contented sigh come from the other girl.

“I wish I could give you your due,” Rangi muttered after some time had passed. “The wisest teachers. Armies to defend you. A palace to live in.”

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow. “The Avatar gets a palace?”

“No, but you deserve one.”

“I don’t need it,” Kyoshi said. She smiled into Rangi’s hair, the soft strands caressing her lips. “And I don’t need an army. I have you.”

Psh,” Rangi scoffed. “A lot of good I’ve been so far. If I were better at my job you would never feel scared. Only loved. Adored by all.”

Kyoshi gently nudged Rangi’s chin upward. She could no more prevent herself from doing this than she could keep from breathing, living, fearing.

“I do feel loved,” she declared.

Rangi’s beautiful face shone in reflection. Kyoshi leaned in and kissed her.

A warm glow mapped Kyoshi’s veins. Eternity distilled in a single brush of skin. She thought she would never be more alive than now.

And then—

The shock of hands pushing her away. Kyoshi snapped out of her trance, aghast.

Rangi had flinched at the contact. Repelled her. Viscerally, reflexively.

Oh no. Oh no.

This couldn’t—not after everything they’d been through—this couldn’t be how it—

Kyoshi shut her eyes until they hurt. She wanted to shrink until she vanished within the cracks of the earth. She wanted to become dust and blow away in the wind.

But the sound of laughter pulled her back. Rangi was coughing, drowning herself with her own tears and mirth. She caught her breath and retook Kyoshi by the hips, turning to the side, offering up the smooth, unblemished skin of her throat.

“That side of my face is busted up, stupid,” she whispered in the darkness. “Kiss me where I’m not hurt.”

~~~~~

I include both these quotes because i've seen a few posts about the “gigantic lesbian” avatar, and although i am glad my sapphic sisters feel connected to Kyoshi (as well they should!), that doesn't mean i wish to simply be quiet on the matter of her textual bisexuality. I understand that not everyone has read her novels, nor has everyone read legend of Korra comics, but Kyoshi is *textually* bisexual.

Kyoshi had a loving romantic relationship with her firebending friend Rangi, but this does not erase her feelings for her earthbending friend Yun, even if neither of them were able to properly express it due to their respective “status”. (For context if you haven’t read, the masters believed that Yun was the avatar, and though he was bodyguarded by Rangi, and though Kyoshi was his servent, the three of them were simiar ages and thus close friends until the discovery of Kyoshi’s true ability destroyed their former lives). Hell, Kyoshi and Rangi do not become intimate until after fleeing their former lives. Who is to say what would have happened, had Yun not been captured by father glowworm ?

I know that there is a chance you will scoff at this, will write this off as comphet, accuse me of disproportionately weighting an almost-kiss with a true relationship, but these above quotes (as well as the comic panel from “the legend of korra: turf wars- part 1”) serve as proof that Kyoshi, “by all accounts loved men and women” (see panel directly below)

[image I.D. : the same comic panel as the edit above, this one without the bisexual flag edited in. Directly behind Kyoshi, within the upside-down trapezoid shape, is an olive to lime gradient, darker around her head and lighter near the bottom. Around and to the right in the image, outside of the trapezoid, is an aerial shot of buildings within an Earth Kingdom city, and what appears to be the lines of troops on the ground far below. the text box in the image is the same, but I have underlined the word “men” in blue, the word “and” in purple, and the word “women” in pink, to reflect the bisexual flag. End I.D.]

I am making such a big deal over this because Kyoshi is a massive figure, her long shadow cast over Aang’s life alongside Roku’s, and even before her novels came out there were often jokes about her “bloodthirsty” nature. I implore you to read the novels and see why Kyoshi believed in deadly justice at times, but also so you can see what a dynamic, loving, and beautiful character she is.

Some members of fandom have taken a “step on me” attitude towards Kyoshi, who has, even if the 7 feet tall thing is more fanon than canon, been explicitly described as “exceptionally tall”, and “towering” over others. This “strong woman who will break me and I thank them” attitude is one that butch &/or physically imposing sapphics, as well as trans women with similar statures to Kyoshi have expressed discomfort when applied to themselves and characters like them. I would love for more people to acknowledge her flaws and multi-faceted nature, that she is more than a “warrior goddess”, just as Aang is more than a living relic. Flattening her out to the easily-fetishable parts erases the depth of her character and the complexity of circumstances that led to the instances of deadly force.

There are very few bisexual characters in media, especially women, and especially in children’s media. Bisexual women have often been caricatured as loose, promiscuous, good for a threesome and not much else. (This is mot to say that i think any lesser of my fellow bisexuals who are proudly promiscious, nor can an actual live bisexual person be considered a stereotype for living their life, but media’s portayal of us as obsessed with desire is incredibly harmful). Knowing that a strong, beautiful, and important character in the avatar universe is a bisexual woman is amazing, even more so to have her first lady-love described in the novels with such care. F. C. Yee, the author of these novels, has my eternal gratitude. I sincerely hope that the new generation of fans, whether they are drawn to the cartoon or even the hypothetical live action show, will pick up these novels and discover the kind of bisexual character that I wish existed in my early days as a reader, and if a small fraction of them resonate with Kyoshi’s reciprocal on Yun and love for Rangi, then the world becomes a little bit brighter for it.

I mentioned her importance for the simple reason that Kyoshi IS important with the text of ATLA. As one of the avatars, she is one of the most historically important figures in that universe, one of the few avatars that Aang knows by name, and one of the only avatars to speak through his body. The fact that she has two whole novels to herself testifies to that effect, making her bisexual representation all the more important than a simple background character might be. 

If or when the ATLA live action tv show occurs, we can expect some mention of Kyoshi. After all, there is a whole episode dedicated to exploring one of her missions, and the way that the descendants of her enemy have recolored history. It is my sincere desire that enough discussion is made about her canon bisexuality , that fandom trumphets it from the roof with as much force as crackshipping zukka, that when she does make it to the screen, there is some subtle nod in her bisexuality’s direction, even if it is something as meta as casting a bisexual actress for her. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

edit by @flagellasturbation​

[image I.D. : An edit of a comic panel of avatar Kyoshi. This is like the first image, Kyoshi and the text box of the comic panel untouched, the background color and art replaced with the bisexual flag. However, this version has the words “by all accounts” blown up large and placed diagonally in the image, directly under Kyoshi’s face and stretching from one side of the image to the other. The bottom third of the image is similarly obscured, the words  “men” , “and” , “women” blown up large enough to fill the panel and cover most of Kyoshi’s torso, as well as the purple and blue areas of the background flag. End I.D.]

[lokiondisneyplus]

SPOILER WARNING: Do not read if you haven’t seen Season 1, Episode 5 of “Loki,” now streaming on Disney Plus.

I think it’s when Alligator Loki ate President Loki’s hand that I realized I was in love.

To be sure, I was always into “Loki,” Marvel Studios’ third Disney Plus series and the first devoted to exploring a single character: the god of mischief as played by Tom Hiddleston. From the first episode, I dug the absurdist deadpan humor imbued by head writer Michael Waldron, and I was immediately smitten with how director Kate Herron employed ’70s sci-fi brutalism and a particularly British affinity for bureaucracy to build out the world of the Time Variance Authority.

“Loki” looked unlike anything I’d ever seen in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, an increasingly difficult prospect given there are now 26 discrete iterations of the MCU — soon to be 27 with the impending debut of “Black Widow.” As the show has progressed, that feeling has only grown more acute as “Loki,” in its exploration of its title character’s identity, managed to carve out its own unique personality not just in the MCU, but also in the grander landscape of sci-fi storytelling.

To put it as simply as I can, “Loki” is a cosmic-yet-intimate time-traveling romantic action comedy about how Hiddleston’s sexually fluid narcissist finally learns how to fall in love with himself — or, rather, the female version of himself who has lived a whole lifetime of harrowing experiences apart from his own. In doing so, the show has proven that not only can the MCU work on television, it can thrive on it.

Marvel Studios’ first Disney Plus series, “WandaVision,” was a fabulous first step onto TV, proving that the MCU, itself an experiment in creating an episodic series of blockbuster feature films, could shrink itself down to the scope of an American sitcom. Its exploration of grief and the restorative power of comfort TV could not have been more relevant to an audience enduring a devastating pandemic. But as it unfolded, the escalating mystery of what was actually happening on “WandaVision” — Evan Peters showing up as Pietro-but-not-actually-Pietro, Kathryn Hahn hiding in plain sight as Agatha, Elizabeth Olsen unwittingly responsible for almost everything on the show as Wanda — began to overwhelm it. Fans and major entertainment news outlets alike began wildly theorizing each week — it’s Mephisto! it’s Magneto! — and the pressure to achieve a Marvel-sized scale, service a wide ensemble of MCU characters, and resolve all its narrative strands made the final episodes of “WandaVision” feel, to some, misshapen.

Marvel’s follow-up series, “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier,” meanwhile, was at once more conventional and more ungainly, with five separate antagonists (John Walker, Karli Morgenthau, Helmut Zemo, Sharon Carter and Valentina Allegra de Fontaine) operating at cross-purposes and overshadowing the two title characters meant to be at the heart of the show and the exploration of being a Black man in America meant to drive it.

“Loki” avoids all of that, because it’s the first MCU show that understands to its bones that the best television is about its characters first, and its story second. The lasting pleasure of longform storytelling is allowing the audience a far deeper understanding of who is on screen than a two-hour movie can allow. That sensibility is already woven into the MCU: Watching Tony Stark, Thor, and Steve Rogers grow and changed over multiple features has been central to the franchise’s unprecedented success. But while Marvel’s conviction to make their shows the same way they’ve made their movies makes sense, it’s also had the paradoxical effect of making “WandaVision” and “FAWS” feel too overloaded with their characters doing stuff than just letting them be.

Each episode of “Loki” does just that. In Episode 1, Loki and Mobius (Owen Wilson, never better?) sit and talk about why Loki does what he does; in Episode 2, they ruminate on the nature of accepted reality while trying to solve the mystery of the variant Loki’s whereabouts. In Episode 3, Loki and Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino, an instant star) spend the entire hour walking through a doomed planet getting to know each other, and casually coming out in the process. Episode 4 is when the story shifts into a higher gear, with Gugu Mbatha-Raw’s Ravonna Renslayer emerging as its true antagonist, but even that episode allowed for several extended scenes of human connection, between Ravonna and Mobius, Loki and Mobius, and Sylvie and Hunter B-15 (Wunmi Mosaku, richer with each episode).

This week’s penultimate episode, “Journey Into Mystery,” introduces several new Loki variants, a critical new location in the Void (the purgatory at the end of time into which all pruned entities are dumped) and a blockbuster movie sized enemy in the monstrous, timeline devouring Alioth (re-imagined somewhat from the comic books). And yet, there’s still time for Loki and Sylvie to sit on a hill, share a conjured blanket and quietly express how much they mean to each other, and there’s also time for Classic Loki (the great Richard E. Grant) to get a deeply satisfying character arc. After explaining how his own existential despair at his lot in life allowed him to live well past his encounter with Thanos, Classic Loki’s encounter with Loki and Sylvie reinvigorates his sense of glorious purpose — and helps Loki to understand he’s more powerful than he’s ever allowed himself to be. It’s a full meal in miniature, and Grant makes the most of it.

All the while, Herron and writer Tom Kauffman work in all manner of delightful alternate reality Easter eggs, from the USS Eldridge (purported to have been part of an experimental cloaking and teleportation device in 1943) to the Polybius video game (purported to be a government psy-ops scheme). More notably, there are also some MCU Easter eggs, including the Thanos helicopter and the Living Tribunal that flit by quickly and appear designed to tickle Marvel die-hards and pleasantly mystify everyone else. And then there’s Alligator Loki, a flawless creature who should be protected at all costs.

There is one blink-and-you-missed-it moment, though, that could be something more, when the Qeng Enterprises logo shows up on the Avengers tower. In the comics, Tony Stark sells that tower to Qeng, which is secretly connected to the same Marvel boogeyman that’s haunted “Loki” from its premiere: Kang the Conqueror. The decrepit house Loki and Sylvie are stepping towards at the end of the episode also looks like it could — could — be Chronopolis, Kang’s HQ in the comics, although the TVA itself could be that as well. In any event, it’s been well documented, here and elsewhere, that Kang could be the entity who is really behind the TVA, especially since “Lovecraft Country” star Jonathan Majors has already been cast in the role and will appear in 2023’s “Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania.”

If “Loki” does introduce Kang in its finale, however, then the show is stepping onto its highest, thinnest tightrope yet. This is supposed to be a show about Loki, not about a villain that, within the world of the MCU, remains a total unknown. It’s a massive risk for any series to bring in a brand new character — let alone the Big Bad! — in the final episode, so this could be another example of an MCU series serving the larger franchise at the expense of its own story. That would be a shame. Sticking the landing, after all, has always been troublesome for TV because TV is so much more about the shared journey than the ultimate destination. And yet, if anyone in the MCU knows how to alight onto safe ground despite impossible odds, it is the god of outcasts, who lives to survive.

“Loki” streams new episodes Wednesdays on Disney Plus.