#i feel like i have no words to express how meaningful this is to me and how grateful i am

[endykelopaedia]

This does still ignore that we don't have to choose one avenue or another when it comes to the intersectionality of this topic.

This post is about misandry being a bad "avenue" for sociopolitical analysis, not about "choosing one." you'd know that if you read the post.

I recognize in my experience as a latino that latina women don't experience the demonization that i do simply because of my gender.

and thats your fucking problem. First Of All you aren't even black so why are you here on my post on anti-blackness like this (and i did notice how you replaced all discussion of black people and anti-blackness with "poc" to get your nasty foot in). And second of yall YES THEY FUCKING DO. You really think being a woman of colour saves you from the racism you experience for their race in any meaningful way? You obviously a misogynist but you might actually be stupid too. Idk how long u lived as a woman or man but maybe go ask your grandma or sumn if being a woman made being latine easier. My exact problem w this misandry shit is how easily it becomes for you people to simply not think abt the women in your community and how obviously misogynistic it is to think their experiences of discrimination and violence must be softer than yours bc shes not a man. choke. moving on.

The darker you are, the more pronounced the fear surrounding you becomes, but it is also amplified by how masculine or feminine your gender expression is. I don't quite agree that "projected hypermasculinity" is the only cause of this.

i think its awesome that this non-black dude thinks he's in the position to explain colourism to me now. Also, I didn't say it was. You'd know that if you Read The Post.

for many poc, they are often in the cross hairs of white-enforced gender binaries. Many people in positions of power [even other poc] will use gender as a violent means to police us, often seeking to turn our own expression of gender against us.

you ever notice how in turning our gender expressions against us, there might be a pattern of projecting violence and aggression (traditionally masculine traits often praised in non-black people), that isnt actually there? This is masculinisation. This is racism. You'd know that, if you read. the post.

This intersection is important to acknowledge and I think very overlooked when poc trans macs like myself have been begging people to listen to us.

Ok. I'm a black i mean poc transmasc. Listen To Me! you are actively talking over what im sayin and barely listening bc it challenges the validity of misandry, a word that has apparently done soooo much for you, and me too obviously, given the nature of this post that you definitely read.

Also the section on adultification is sound. But very strange claim that "black people aren't actually masculine!"

Didn't say this. In fact i also very explicitly said black i mean poc adults also experience adultification. Try reading the post again, and applying my logic that you say is so sound.

Like???????? What about those who are? I have black transmasc friends who have extremely different experiences than my black trans femme friends and I can tell you that it absolutely is about gender there.

thats crazy. you're gonna bring black i mean poc transfemmes into this when the murder statistics for black transfemmes look like this? i wonder what happened there... i thought femininity was supposed to protect femmes from racislised violence...

Everything intersects with race in these conversations of course but there are those of us who are trying to communicate more nuanced experiences.

so sick of yalls "but my unique experiences!!" whinging. fuckin grow up n read a book. you arent the main characters. there are socio-political forces above you shaping our oppression and i am talking about those! i'm not your mother!!! think abt society outside of your feelings for 5 seconds n then get back to me!!!

ALL men benefit from patriarchy just as ALL white people benefit from white supremacy just as ALL cis people benefit from cisnormativity just as ALL rich people benefit from poverty. you think you're being intersectional but you aren't! you're just absolving your ability to perpetuate or benefit from a certain system in your own mind because you too are marginalised. being a man does not create a unique intersection with your race because men, unilaterally, are not oppressed for being men, no, not even sometimes, no, not even when you're black i mean poc or gay or broke or trans. and you can still benefit from misogyny against the women who are just like you.

Masculinity does not equal power.

Yeah ok. neither does whiteness or cisness or money or nun. nothing equals power cuz anyone can be oppressed for any reason. get fucking real.

There is the similarity of not equating feminity with powerlessness.

erm actually... you're the real misogynist for noticing how women are systemically disempowered by men instead of uplifting femininity (by refusing to acknowledge that women are systemically empowered by men) I Am Very Smart.

And Finally, lets talk about these tags a mo.

"white" "american" and i am very explicitly neither white or american. easy to guess from the way i write this post. easier to confirm from looking at my god damn bio. and thats how i know you arent serious bc you really think only white americans utilise male privilege as a concept? yk the feminist you haphazardly snatched "intersectionality" from was a black woman explicitly naming the way that the misogyny she experienced from black i mean poc men and the racism she experienced from white women was rendered invisible by both groups failing to acknowledge the intersection she had of being both black and a woman? of course not. you're an idiot.

"black people are seen as hyper-masculine and face a lot of violence for it, so yes you can be oppressed for seeming or being masculine"

AHT!! lets talk! black people are not actually hyper-masculine. hyper-masculinity is a projection by people trying to justify anti-black fear and violence. it is not a true and then demonised observation about black existence. the hyperfocus on the masculinity of black people is itself racism!

when you call this issue of racism anti-masculinity or misandry or whatever, you are obfuscating the bigotry at play. ESPECIALLY given that it is overwhelmingly just white women's fear about black people's supposed hyper-masculinity that actually gets listened to & acted upon.

in addition, there are other addendums people tack onto their anti-blackness that completely cause this logic to fall apart when applied. Namely, adultification! black people, black children get adultified by white society.

We are assumed to be older & more independent, and thus less in need of the safety, care, sensitivity, accommodation one would give to a child, and this results in violence and neglect. it is directly observable in the way black children are more likely to get detention, suspended or expelled for the same behaviour as their white peers, s/a rates for black youth, and the arguments that 40 y/o cops give for brutalising & murdering black 20, 16, 12, 8 year olds who so much as breathe in their line of sight.

Given this then, following the misandry logic, we can say being recognised as older or as an adult is a form of oppression.

"black people are seen as older/more mature and face a lot of violence for it, so yes, you can be oppressed for seeming like or being an adult"

we can for the sake of this post name this oppression adultery.

i kid. but do you see the problem. being recognised as an adult is obviously, not itself a form of oppression, in fact quite the opposite, being recognised as adult can grant you a lot of privileges that children do not have.

and black kids are evidently, not adults or people who act like adults. they dont mature faster. black 18 y/os will also face the problem of adultification to justify violence against them. black maturity is not a true and then demonised observation about black existence. the form of oppression is racism, and adultification is the deployed means of enacting racism.

the means of combatting the adultification of black people would not come in creating adult positivity or "advocating" for adults or telling children not to fear adults. it comes in the form of learning about anti-blackness, unlearning anti-blackness, and actually directly combatting anti-blackness.

similarly the means of combatting the hyper-masculinisation of black people comes in the form of learning about anti-blackness, unlearning anti-blackness, and actually directly combatting anti-blackness.

Racism explains both of this phenomena far better than "misandry" ever could.

[aspenmissing]

Hello my dear!

Sooo, I'm a huge fan of reading (especially reading fantasy books). And I can't get the headcanon out of my head. Where Viktor x Reader having a cozy evening in their shared apartment. And out of the sudden, Viktor is showing interests for Readers book. With every question he is asking, she feels, like she's falling in love with him all over again. And feels loved and appreciated for his interest in her hobby. So she just wants to cuddle and kiss him so badly.

Like, seriously....I would be on my knees for a moment like this in rl! ;---;

ꜰᴀꜱᴛᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ || 2352 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴ/ᴀ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ. ᴍʏ. ɢᴏᴅ! ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴀɴᴏɴ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴇʟʟᴏᴡ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ - ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ… ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ. ɪꜰ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ, ɪ'ᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɪɴ ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛʙᴇᴀᴛ!

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

It was one of those peaceful evenings in their shared apartment, the kind that only came after a long day of work, filled with little moments of quiet bliss. The soft hum of the city outside mingled with the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth. Viktor had finally set aside his cane for the evening, resting in a comfortable armchair, his back relaxed but his gaze still filled with a quiet intensity. Y/N sat beside him on the couch, a book open in her lap. Her fingers gently turned the pages as she found herself fully immersed in the world of myths and legends, a world far removed from the realities of Piltover.

Viktor, however, had been restless, his mind working over a small project on the table. The sound of gears clicking and metal pieces shifting filled the air, but it wasn’t the usual mechanical rhythm that usually filled their home. Tonight, there was something else in Viktor’s eyes. It wasn’t his usual focused intensity, but something gentler, more present. She noticed him glance over at her a few times, his gaze soft, almost as if he were seeing her in a new light.

"Y/N," Viktor’s voice broke the quiet, soft but full of curiosity. "What is it you're reading, Lásko?" (Love)

Y/N smiled up at him, a warmth spreading through her chest at the sound of his voice, always so attentive. She couldn’t help but feel special when he asked. “It’s a novel about myths and legends from the Vastaya people,” she explained. “A collection of stories that weave together history, magic, and forgotten realms. It’s one of my favourites.”

Viktor leaned back in his chair, resting his cane against the side, his focus shifting from his project to her. “The Vastaya… I know them in passing, but I’ve never had the chance to truly learn much about their myths. Why does this particular book resonate with you?”

Y/N closed the book and looked over at him, her heart swelling slightly at the genuine interest he showed. "I think it’s because these myths remind me of where I come from,” she said, her voice softening with the emotion she carried. “They tell stories of things I feel in my bones, things I can't always explain. There's a connection to my roots in them, something deeper than what words can fully capture.”

Viktor’s expression softened, his eyes taking on a more tender look as he processed her words. “That’s… beautiful, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I can understand why it would be so meaningful to you. You have such a deep connection to your heritage. It’s truly a part of who you are.”

Y/N smiled, feeling both grounded and uplifted by Viktor’s words. It wasn’t often that he opened up about how he saw her, and when he did, it left her feeling cherished in a way she couldn’t quite describe. She glanced at the book in her lap, then back at him, her gaze lingering for a moment.

“Tell me more about the myths,” Viktor urged, his voice soft but filled with curiosity. “What’s your favourite story from this book? I want to know everything.”

Her heart fluttered at his genuine interest. Every question he asked made her feel more seen, more understood. She leaned back into the couch, her fingers tracing the edge of the book, the words tumbling out of her mouth as she began to describe one of the legends, about the ancient guardians of her people. Her voice grew more animated as she spoke, the passion in her words unmistakable. Viktor’s gaze never wavered, and his attention was unwavering. He was completely absorbed in her every word, hanging on to each syllable as if it held an entirely new world for him.

When she finished, he leaned forward slightly, his voice low and full of admiration. “It sounds… enchanting,” Viktor said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The way you describe it, it’s as if the myths come alive through your words. I’d love to see more of what inspires you."

Her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she felt as though her entire being was being pulled towards him. Viktor had always been brilliant, focused, but right now, he was utterly absorbed in her, in her stories, in the things that mattered to her. It wasn’t just about the myths; it was the way he made her feel—deeply valued, loved for the parts of herself she often kept hidden.

Unable to stop herself, Y/N moved closer to him, her hand gently resting on his, her thumb brushing lightly over his skin. “Viktor…” she whispered, her voice trembling just a little with emotion. “You make me feel so… seen. So loved.”

Viktor’s gaze softened, a tenderness flickering across his features. He reached out to pull her gently into his arms, the warmth of his embrace enveloping her in a way that felt like coming home. He kissed the top of her head, his voice soothing, filled with care. “You are loved, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know. More than I could ever put into words.”

Y/N felt a wave of affection rush through her, and as the minutes passed, the fire crackled in the hearth, casting a soft glow on their faces. The quiet hum of the city outside was barely audible, and in that peaceful stillness, Viktor placed his project aside completely, giving her his undivided attention. His hands moved to gently tug her closer, and with a soft, inviting smile, he whispered, “Come here. Let me hold you for a while. Just let me listen.”

Y/N’s heart skipped once more as he offered her the chance to simply be, to share not only her thoughts but herself with him in the most simple and intimate way. She shifted in his arms, settling against his chest, her head resting against his shoulder. Viktor’s arms wrapped around her, his warmth seeping into her as if he were offering not just his body, but his very soul.

She let out a soft sigh of contentment, feeling her body relax into him, her fingers absentmindedly tracing over the fabric of his shirt. He gently kissed the top of her head again, his voice low and filled with affection. “Would you… read to me, Miláčku?” Viktor asked, his words barely more than a whisper. (Darling)

The request, so tender and personal, caused her heart to swell. She smiled, feeling the deep love and appreciation he had for her. She picked up the book once more, and as her voice filled the quiet room, she felt a warmth spread through her chest. As she read aloud, the words seemed to come to life, her voice dancing in the air as Viktor listened with rapt attention, his hands gently running through her hair. She could feel the deep connection between them, the way they both shared this small, perfect moment in time.

And as she continued to read, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that she was falling in love with Viktor all over again. It wasn’t the grand gestures or the loud proclamations of affection, but these quiet, intimate moments that spoke volumes. He had always been so focused on his work, so absorbed in his genius. But tonight, it was as if he were completely absorbed in her.

The fire crackled softly, and as the evening deepened, Y/N closed the book, setting it aside. She looked up at Viktor, her heart full, her thoughts scattered in the best way. She kissed him softly, slowly, as though to show him just how much she loved him in return.

“I love you, Viktor,” she whispered against his lips, her voice thick with emotion.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied, his words steady and sincere. “More than you could ever know.”

And in that moment, as the fire flickered and the world outside faded away, Y/N felt completely at peace. Wrapped in Viktor’s arms, with his love surrounding her, she knew there was no place she’d rather be.

The days drifted by, each one marked by their quiet routines and the bond that seemed to grow deeper with every passing moment. After that peaceful evening, where Viktor had so thoroughly captured her heart with his quiet attention and affection, something began to shift in the way they spent their time together.

Every time Y/N finished reading one of her beloved books, she would set it down on the small coffee table beside the couch and stretch, content with the peaceful moments she shared with Viktor. But soon, she began to notice something strange.

The next day, after finishing a particularly captivating myth about the ancient spirits of the Vastaya, Y/N placed the book on the table, intending to return to it later. When she stood up and turned around, she noticed a small package resting on the table. It wasn’t there the moment before—she would have noticed it, surely.

Curious, she reached for it and carefully unwrapped the soft leather cover. Inside was a new book, its pages crisp and untouched. She turned it over in her hands, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she read the title—Legends of Lost Civilisations. It was exactly the kind of book she would love, filled with ancient stories and hidden histories.

Before she could even process it, Viktor appeared beside her, his expression warm and a little playful. “I thought you might enjoy something new,” he said, his voice low, almost shy, as though he wasn’t sure how she would react. But there was a tenderness in his gaze that made her heart flutter.

Y/N looked up at him, her lips curving into a smile. “You—Viktor, this is... I don’t even know what to say.”

“I noticed how much you enjoy your reading,” Viktor continued, his voice soft, “and I thought you might appreciate a new one to add to your collection.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “I hope it’s to your liking.”

She pulled him into a tight hug without thinking, overcome by the warmth of his gesture. “I love it,” she whispered, holding him close. “Thank you. You always know exactly what to do to make me feel so cared for.”

Viktor’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, his voice rumbling with affection. “I pay attention,” he murmured. “I want you to feel loved, Lásko. And I’ve noticed the joy you get when you dive into your stories.”

Over the next few weeks, it became a small but cherished tradition. Every time Y/N finished one of her books, a new one would appear on the table—sometimes wrapped in soft fabric, sometimes simply resting there, waiting for her to discover it. Viktor had an uncanny ability to choose books that fit perfectly with her interests, each one a little more special than the last.

One day, Y/N had just finished the latest one—a beautifully written account of the starry skies and the constellations that were said to guide the Vastaya when they first arrived on Runeterra. She placed it down, ready to settle in for another quiet evening, when, to her surprise, a new book was waiting for her on the table.

This time, it was an older volume, its edges slightly worn, and its leather cover embossed with intricate designs. As she picked it up, she noticed the weight of it, and the delicate gold leafing on the spine. The title was faint but readable: The Heart of the Wilds: A History of the Vastaya’s Ancients.

Her heart skipped. This was a book that her grandmother had once spoken of, a rare and treasured work from generations before her. It was a history she thought she might never find. She looked up at Viktor, who had been standing by the fire, watching her with that same quiet smile.

“How… where did you find this?” she asked, her voice filled with awe.

Viktor stepped closer, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. “I asked around, did some research,” he said, his tone nonchalant but with a glint of pride in his eyes. “I knew you’d appreciate it.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she held them back, overcome by the thoughtfulness of his gesture. “This means so much to me,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You always go above and beyond for me. I can’t… I can’t even put it into words.”

Viktor’s hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away the softest of tears that had slipped down her face. “You don’t need to. You never need to explain how you feel, love. I just want you to know how much you mean to me.”

In that moment, Y/N leaned up and kissed him, softly at first, then deeper as the emotions between them swirled and tangled. She felt the weight of his affection, the tenderness in every action, and it made her feel loved in a way she hadn’t known was possible. When they finally pulled away, breathless, she smiled up at him.

“You know, I think you’ve spoiled me, Viktor,” she said, her voice playful yet sincere. “I may never want to read another book that doesn’t come from you.”

Viktor chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And if it means you feel special, then it’s worth it.”

That night, as she sat down to read the new book Viktor had so thoughtfully given her, she felt as though she were falling in love with him all over again. With every turn of the page, every word of affection, and every shared moment, Y/N realised just how deeply Viktor cared for her—and how lucky she was to have him by her side.

And so, with each new book that arrived, her love for Viktor only grew, filling their home with a quiet kind of magic—a magic that had nothing to do with spells or machines, but with the simple, profound ways they made each other feel truly seen and cherished.

[senseandaccountability]

What's your verdict of Dragon Age the Veilguard now two months down the road? How do you think fandom has reacted to it, compared to the other new titles that you can remember (I know you're a long-time fan)?

(Two months + a fair amount of weeks at this point, sorry for the delay, anon.) This is going to be salty, I’m afraid and a bit like beating on a dead horse but you did ask, thank you for that and sorry about being whiny.

My first impression was that it’s a 6/10 game. I think now upon replaying it two times, the score is even lower. It’s a very mid game that’s also clearly a salvaged product from a long and erratic production cycle. It has some good lore, some good writing, but it’s hidden almost entirely in optional side quests, subtext and the tiny margins of the text. 

Overall its way too much of a high stakes/low tension kind of game for me. It’s fun and it never truly grabs me except for the bits that are about previous characters. I don’t care about Rook. I like them well enough for a protag, I can fill them with headcanon to make them real but I would easily sacrifice them at the end without a second thought. There’s no pull, no tension, nothing to hold on to. I've tried to write fic about Rook but I just don't know anything about this person apart from the fact that they're very young and likes to say the word team a lot. Maybe Rook works in HR.

For all its high stakes, the game also repeatedly fails to show me these stakes. It keeps telling me how important it is, how busy we are and during the Siege of Weisshaupt and Blood of Arlathan, I really do feel it, momentarily. Those quests have weight to them, and they are tied in with the overall narrative of the series. We know the wardens, we know the Dalish. They matter. 

“Sometimes it takes the wrong sort to put it right,” the game says and doesn’t even dare to show me a single shred of moral ambiguity in Rook. Call me annoying but I don’t necessarily want to feel like a hero. I don’t need to feel morally righteous about my player character. I want the narrative to be complex and challenge me and hold compassion for the world it’s telling me about, dare me to change my mind about its characters and their various plights. What if the hero is wrong? What if the world is too complex to be reduced to simple choices? What if the trusted mentor lies and the liar tells the truth? What then? Somewhere in the far distance DAV wants to offer some complexity but hey we have EVIL ANCIENT GODS TO FIGHT YO! I actually hate the tone. I said early on that it’s one of my main gripes and I stand by it.  It’s chipper and full of HR-department tidiness and in general it just doesn’t move me because it’s just telling, not showing me the emotions. THIS IS THE EMOTION CALLED DOUBT, the game screams in my face. LET'S HAVE A TALK WITH THE TEAM TO PUT IT RIGHT. Immediately after finishing DAV, I went and played Disco Elysium and the contrast was quite honestly heartbreaking. Because the tone in that funny, sarcastic and over the top writing? It’s compassionate. It wants to be truthful about what it’s like to be a human living in a broken, inhuman world. It cares. Veilguard more often feels like an action movie revenge plot where you get to punch some EVIL ANCIENT GODS in the face because they want to drown the world in demons, man, let’s just leave it at that lol omg you can even PUNCH Solas lol whatever thanks bye.  

I also just find the text flat. It doesn’t have the transtextuality I’ve come to appreciate in the other DA games, it doesn’t play much with differences in dialogue for the different characters - like making one stand out as being anachronistic or having a different way of expressing themselves or being very unlike the others in some fundamental ways, it doesn't challenge and/or characterize through banter in the way the other DA games have done and it doesn’t give us companions that seek meaningful conflict or are difficult to understand. Veilguard is the only DA game where I haven’t felt any kind of strong emotional reaction while interacting with the companions, and while you could argue that this is a good thing because teamwork and professionalism or whatever, I’d say that for a text, this is a factor that makes it flat. No great piece of writing has only likable characters capable of self-reflection because no actual human being is only likable or not likable to everyone and by god are actual humans not always capable of self-reflection. In fact, some humans shy away from it for entire lifetimes.

The story of DAV is consistent in its themes, yes. It’s just that it’s also without nuance and - again - without stakes. The companion quests raise big moral dilemmas but the answers are so bland they might as well just be ignored. The outcome changes nothing, doesn’t affect the characters. There’s no price to be paid for becoming first talon, no punishment for being a lich, it’s just another wardrobe choice. Should I wear blue or black, perhaps become an immortal creature? No matter darling, you are always adorable. I think most of all the state of the game is a testament of a really fucking tragic industry that doesn’t care enough about storytelling and authenticity or its workers. I think it’s clear that the writers were trying very hard but I also think it’s clear that it wasn't the narrative the powers that be decided to focus on.  The DA fandom at large, quite frankly, has always just made me exhausted and miserable. I think a lot of the criticisms of DAV have been unhinged. I think a lot of the defences of the game have been so deranged that it makes me wheeze as I read them out loud to my husband. I’ve seen plenty of people dragging up some 17 year old noob’s post from the depths of reddit just to do some edgy take about how stupid people are for disliking the game and it’s just been so many bad faith takes. Overall, I’m truly sorry to say, I have no desire to play this game anymore nor do I feel very tempted to play the other DA games. I’m happy to see that my mutuals are having fun - I wish I felt anything stronger than oh well about the new characters, but I don’t. Maybe I will not be this actively bored in the future and pick it up again, but for now, no. I'll try to finish my fanfic and then probably be done for good with this fandom.

[ivyues]

Scars of the Past: Stray Kids' reactions to finding out their S/O was cheated on in the past

Bang Chan

While watching a drama together, the plot unfolds about a cheating scandal. Casually, you comment, "Ugh, I know how that feels." Chris looks over, concern immediately filling his eyes.

You smile bitterly, huffing out a small breath. "I haven’t told you I was cheated on, did I?" Chris’ face freezes for a moment before his expression softens with empathy.

"What do you mean?" he asks, his voice gentle, a hint of worry in his tone. When you explain, his jaw tightens, and he pulls you closer.

"I’m so sorry you went through that. You never have to doubt us, okay? I’ll make sure you never feel that way again." For the rest of the evening, he keeps you close, reassuring you with soft kisses and sweet words.

Lee Know

During a round of "Never Have I Ever" with friends, the topic of infidelity comes up. You casually admit you’ve been cheated on before. Lee Know stiffens but says nothing in front of the whole group.

Later, when you’re alone in the car, he locks eyes with you, his expression suddenly serious.

"I can’t change what happened to you, but I can promise I’ll never hurt you like that. You're too precious to me."

He gently takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, holding them tightly. It's a simple yet meaningful gesture, an unspoken promise that this moment is different.

Changbin

In the middle of a conversation about insecurities, you mention that your last partner cheated on you, and it’s the reason you sometimes struggle with trust. "They did what?" His voice rises slightly, but he catches himself, softening as he sees your discomfort.

He pulls you into a tight hug without hesitation, but there's a flicker of discomfort in the gesture, as if he's unsure whether it's the right move. He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes.

"I'm so sorry. No one deserves that, least of all you," he says, his voice full of sincerity.

After a moment of silence, he hesitates before asking, "Do you... do you still talk to this person?" His tone is careful, as if he’s afraid of the answer but knows he needs to ask.

Hyunjin

Watching a romance movie together, the protagonist discovers her partner cheating. You murmur, "Yeah, that’s all way too familiar." Hyunjin immediately pauses the movie, turning to you.

"You were cheated on?" he asks, his eyes big and full of sadness. His tone carries a mixture of shock and indignation, as if the idea is almost impossible for him to grasp.

When you nod, he pulls you into a tight hug. "I can’t believe someone could betray you like that. I hope you know you’re worth so much more. I’ll remind you every day if I have to."

Han

During a late-night chat, you mention offhandedly, "Yeah, my ex cheated on me once."

Han freezes, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You? You got cheated on?" he blurts, his tone incredulous. "How is that possible? You're amazing."

You couldn’t help but huff out an unexpected laugh by the seriousness in his voice. He shakes his head, a mix of frustration and sadness on his face. "They were an idiot," he declares, taking your hand. "I’ll never understand how anyone could treat you like that – but I’ll make sure you never feel that way again."

His smile returns, softer this time, as he presses a kiss to your knuckles. "Promise."

Felix

During a cozy night in, a TV show triggers a memory, and you casually mention, "Yeah, my ex did that to me too." Felix freezes mid-bite of his snack, his eyes wide with shock.

"They what?" His voice is a mix of disbelief and sorrow. When you avoid his gaze, focusing on the TV instead, he leans forward slightly, trying to catch your eyes. “Hey,” he says softly, his tone coaxing but serious. When you finally meet his gaze, his expression is earnest, his eyes searching yours.

He takes your hands in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles. "You deserve so much better. If you ever feel unsure or insecure, just tell me, okay? I want to be the one to heal that part of you."

Seungmin

When Seungmin casually mentions a friend he’s been talking to, you freeze, suddenly feeling uneasy. He notices the shift in your mood. "Is something wrong?" he asks, his voice soft but concerned.

You hesitate, then admit, "I know you're not like them, but… I’ve been cheated on before, and it’s hard to trust anyone after that."

Seungmin’s eyes widen in surprise. "I had no idea," he says quietly.

You look down, your voice shaky. "I want to trust you, Seungmin. But the damage is done. I don’t know how to stop feeling this way."

He gently takes your hand across the table, his touch warm. "I’m so sorry you went through that. I want you to know I’m not like them. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust."

I.N

As a song about cheating plays on the radio, you murmur, "This song really hit hard when I found out about my ex."

I.N’s face shifts from surprise to quiet concern. "Wait, you went through what?" he asks softly, his usual bright demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness.

You nod, explaining briefly about your cheating ex, and he listens intently. "That’s awful. You deserve so much better than what they gave you."

When the song ends, he flashes you a small, reassuring smile. "Let’s make some new memories with better songs, okay? You’re safe with me." 

masterlist

[astroidology]

Astro notes.

random astrology things I’ve noticed.

don’t try to start an argument with a virgo mars!!!! these individuals never really care enough to argue UNLESS you’re saying something that they know it’s wrong. they won’t let you get away with it. they will explain you in detail why you’re wrong in a passive aggressive way. making you feel really dumb lol they love being right

mercury in pisces. most find it hard to express through words to say exactly how they feel so instead they do it through music, songs,, art, sketches, some hand-made gifts. any kind of act of love. and they love those kind of things too. they find it more meaningful.

leo risings usually have a good sense of style. they want to look nice, wear nice clothes, nice jewelry. they tend to be super shy and quiet too, they have a hard time opening up to people. which is weird bc they have alot of charisma and people usually gravitate towards them, mostly because they’re fun to be around. but sometimes they care too much about what people think of them and that can stop them from being themselves.

moon in capricorn are so hard on themselves. whenever I think of this placement, it reminds me of that knot on your throat when you’re trying so hard not to cry. just holding back the tears. that’s them. all the time. and it’s not just tears they’re holding back, it’s also the words they never say when they’re really upset, completely avoiding any kind of interaction. or the good news they don’t ever share because they’re too afraid it’ll go away. or just anything that they keep to themselves bc they don’t want to bother anyone else. They’re also really intuitive!!! I feel like Capricorn is not known to be intuitive like that but it’s the fact that they can read people very well, they see right through people and they’re always ready for what’s going to come next. this placement can definitely make someone much quieter than usual, no matter the sun sign.

libra risings are extremely social and likable!!! this people love the attention and you definitely notice them from afar. they’re so good at fitting in. they have such grace to them, which is such a Libra thing but having this sign as your rising, it’s the way you come across to other people. They really try to stay out of drama and usually the ones to be cool with everything and everyone. they adapt very easily to their environment which can be good or bad. very easily influenced. they also like aesthetics a lot. visuals mean a lot to them. they want to make sure they look good at all times and they’re big on words meaning they like compliments a lottt!!! they look better with neutral and pastel colors. physically they tend to have longer faces and a fuller bottom lip from what I noticed, usually leaner body type. even if they’re not super fit, they have a good body distribution.

gemini risings just like any other air sign, also love to interact with people (sometimes) but they tend to be more reserved. they only open up once they comfortable then they don’t ever stop talking lol they’re super bubbly and curious. and can often be super observant. you can kinda know they don’t like you if they don’t talk you a lot lol because they truly loveee to talk. it’s a little difficult to spot them right away because they tend to blend in with other people but once they open up, you can see the their Gemini coming out. they tend to have small facial features, they can even be shorter in height. and there’s a more reserved look to them, kinda like virgo. but unlike virgo risings, gemini risings look somewhat more approachable and relaxed.

mars in pisces easily catches feelings because they won’t ever stop thinking about that one person. Most of the time they don’t even know the person that well but it’s just how they feel. And they tend to have a very sweet approach to love, lots of emotions, kinda like not being able to fck around with other people once they’re in love. They also feel like they have to vocalize it to get over it. They can’t really move on easily, no matter how fucked up the situation is.

mercury in any fire sign (leo/aries/sagittarius) are always having to tell people it’s just a jokeeee lol they tend to be very direct and their type of humor is usually so stupid, it sounds like their making fun of everyone but it’s also usually their love language. they love when people match their energy, they feel free to say anything and they lovee ittt!! another thing is If they don’t fck with you, they won’t even bother to talk to you, they might even talk sht about you or make little comments like that, they need to make it lol

moon in pisces struggles a lot to open up. it’s such a weird thing because they wear their heart in their sleeve so everyone knows they’re not doing well, people notice there’s something off, you can even see it in their face and eyes, but a moon in pisces will never be able to fully talk about it. it’s almost like talking about it makes it real and they don’t want any negative feelings. We all know they live in their own dream world, where it’s safe and peaceful and happy. and it’s all good until reality hits. And they hate it. they want to crawl back in bed, fall asleep for days. listen to some loud music and just close their eyes. They need to shut their minds off so it’s very common for them to develop escape mechanisms. can be really bad habits that make them feel so good. they really need to keep their mind clear and out of any negativity because everything they think about too much becomes real. a lot of popular music artists atm have this placement and you can kinda see how well they blend in with whatever is going on. you can see their genuine interests and opinions in their songs and performances.

moon in the 5th house ppl are creative!!! whatever their hobby is, they make sure it’s done right and they’re usually so good at it. their delivery it’s amazing. they express how they feel in such a dramatic way.

venus in aquarius is an interesting placement. it reminds me a lot of venus in virgo and I do think they have a lot of things in common but I still think venus in aquarius is more complex than that. They need reassurance in any way possible because it makes them feel safe but they are too afraid to committing to someone and having to emotionally depend on someone. And it’s not that they’re disloyal, if anything they’re one of the most loyal placements. they love imperfections, they love the real and raw. they understand there’s more to people and they accept people. but they’re afraid of it. they don’t think someone will be able to love their imperfections, so as soon as they start feeling too much, they take a couple steps back. they suddenly need some space. or at least that’s what they think they need. they don’t like to detach but they do it when they feel unsafe or unloved. and it’s always something that they can’t even understand themselves.

[uzurakis]

THEIR ACT OF INTIMACY!

featuring: geto suguru. megumi fushiguro. itadori yuuji. nanami kento.

n. a sign of them being very comfortable with you. slighty suggestive in itadori’s part. PART 2 HERE :0

GETO SUGURU. suguru finds it aggravating when the others try to mess up his hair, with the exception of you. after the relationship evolved, you'd sit on the bed with him after he showered and brush the large tangles out of his hair. other times, you might put it up in a bun or another style when he isn't looking. you spend that quiet time talking and enjoying one other's company.

in the quiet of your shared space, suguru sat on the edge of the bed, fresh from the shower, his damp hair a tangle of knots. you approached him with a gentle smile, brush in hand. “you know the rule," suguru said with a hint of playfulness, though his eyes softened at the sight of you. “i know, i know," you replied, taking a seat beside him. "this is a condition comes with me being your girlfriend. i got to brush your hair and you get to play mine.”

as you carefully detangled his hair, the room filled with the sound of your voices, sharing stories and laughter. with each stroke of the brush, suguru felt a sense of calm wash over him, grateful for this quiet moment with you.

once his hair was finally smooth and manageable, you surprised him by styling it into a loose bun, eliciting a surprised gasp from suguru as he caught sight of his reflection. “you did it again, didn't you?" he said, pretending to scold you, though his eyes twinkled with affection. you simply smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't help it. i love making you look even more handsome."

ITADORI YUUJI. itadori enjoys lying and lounging about naked together. it feels like complete vulnerability, with no walls between you, resyncing your relationship as you melt into each other's body. he has a habit of writing something on your skin as a game in which you have to guess what he wrote down. other times, he simply likes to nap in the afternoon while you tell him a story in bed.

lounging comfortably in your bed, naked and unguarded, itadori traced lazy patterns on your skin with his touch sending shivers down your spine. "guess what i wrote this time," he whispered, his finger leaving a trail of invisible words on your back. you chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "hmm, let me think..."

as you concentrated, trying to decipher his secret message, itadori pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his warmth enveloping you entirely. then finally, you ventured a guess, feeling his smile against your skin as you spoke the words aloud.

"wrong," he teased, his laughter mingling with yours. “you gotta get it right next time, babe. or else i’ll bite your thighs again.”

with each lighthearted round of the game, the barriers between you appeared to dissolve, leaving only the raw, unfiltered connection to be felt.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. megumi has a difficult time opening up to others, and you were the one who showed him that it is acceptable to talk about what he feels together. you understood that him speaking meaningful words in a serious manner to you puts a toll on his ego; not that he doesn’t care, he just wasn't used to it. what surprises you is how effortlessly he drops those words only in the spur of the moment, as if he hasn't been fighting to say them all along. he also brings up topics you've already discussed and gives every single penny of thought to conversations that deepen feelings between the both of you.

in the quiet of the evening, megumi sat beside you, his expression guarded as always. you both were doing your homework together and then, in a moment that took you by surprise, he spoke, his words flowing effortlessly.

"i care about you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "more than i can put into words."

"why so suddenly?" you asked, surprised by the unexpected confession. the man paused, his expression earnest as he searched for the right words. "i.. just feel you need to hear them from me." he replied, his voice gentle yet resolute. “sorry..”

you could feel your heart swelling with emotion, touched by the sincerity in his words. "thank you, i care about you too, ‘gumi” you whispered, feeling the weight of his feelings enveloping you like a warm embrace. "i like it when you talk about what you're feeling, you know.” you said gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his face.

you knew that megumi's words had transcended the barriers he had once struggled to break through. and as you leaned in to press a tender kiss to his lips, you realized that sometimes, the most meaningful words are the ones spoken from the heart, even if they come unexpectedly.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami believes there is nothing better than a massage after a long and tiring day. he believes that the best massages are those that he earns without having to ask for them; you just knew he needed one and vice versa.

nanami trudged through the door, weary from the demands of the day. you greeted him with a warm smile, sensing the weight on his shoulders without a word spoken. "rough day?" you asked, already moving towards him with a knowing look. nanami nodded, sinking into their embrace. "you have no idea."

without hesitation, you guided him to the couch and began to knead away the tension that had settled in his muscles. "this is exactly what i needed," the man sighed, feeling the knots slowly unraveling beneath your touch.

you smiled softly, your fingers working with practiced ease. "i could tell. you always carry so much on your shoulders."

as the stress of the day melted away, he found himself falling even more deeply in love with the one who cared for him so effortlessly.

@uzurakis

[rmview]

relationship dynamic with you, SVT.

featuring — seventeen rap line x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — an imagine of what the seventeen rap boys are like when they're in a relationship with you! ( vocalist ver. )

contents — fluff, no warnings.

min ♡ gyu

dating mingyu feels like being with your best friend and biggest cheerleader rolled into one. he thrives on making you laugh, whether it’s with his goofy antics or light-hearted teasing. mingyu loves showing affection, often initiating hugs and holding your hand wherever you go. he’s attentive, always noticing the little things — like when you’ve had a bad day or when you’re wearing something new. at home, he enjoys cooking for you, though the kitchen sometimes ends up a mess. despite his playful nature, mingyu is incredibly dependable. whenever you need support, he’s there, listening to you with genuine care.

“are you okay?” he asks one night as you sit on the couch, looking a little distant. “just tired,” you admit, leaning against him. without another word, he wraps an arm around you. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of everything tonight. you just relax, okay?”

won ♡ woo

wonwoo’s relationship dynamic is rooted in quiet understanding and subtle affection. he’s not one to be overly expressive, but his love is felt in the small, meaningful gestures — like buying your favorite snacks without being asked or remembering details you’ve casually mentioned. conversations with him are deep and fulfilling, often filled with insights that make you see things in a new light. while he’s more reserved, his words carry weight. wonwoo’s presence is calming, making you feel secure and appreciated. his love language might not always be verbal, but his actions speak louder than words.

“you always know what i need,” you say, looking at the book he surprised you with in awe. he smiles softly, his eyes glinting with affection. “i just pay attention. it’s not hard when it’s you.”

ho ♡ shi

dating hoshi means constant excitement and unpredictability. his energetic and bubbly personality keeps the relationship lively, as he loves planning fun dates or surprising you with impromptu adventures. hoshi’s passion extends to his love for you — he’s expressive, showering you with compliments and making sure you always feel adored. he loves sharing his world with you, often pulling you into his creative projects or introducing you to the things he’s passionate about. despite his playful demeanor, hoshi is deeply thoughtful and quick to notice when something is off.

“do you trust me?” he asks with a mischievous grin, holding out his hand for you to take. you raise an eyebrow, taking his hand anyway. “should i be worried?” he laughs, tugging you along. “never. i just have the best date planned, and you’ll love it — i promise!”

ver ♡ non

vernon’s relationship dynamic is laid-back and refreshing. he’s not one for grand romantic gestures but makes you feel loved through his easygoing nature and sincerity. vernon loves spending time with you, whether you’re binge-watching shows, going for walks, or just hanging out at a café. he appreciates your individuality and encourages you to embrace it, often reminding you how special you are in his eyes. while he’s more reserved with his feelings, his quiet thoughtfulness makes every moment meaningful.

“you make everything so simple,” you say while out on a peaceful walk with him at night. the streets were almost empty and he could roam with his mask off. he shrugs with a small smile. “i just think love shouldn’t be complicated. it’s about being happy together, right?”

s. ♡ coups

as a leader by nature, s. coups brings stability and strength to the relationship. he’s protective of you, always making sure you’re safe and cared for. while he can be a bit reserved at times, his actions are always thoughtful — he’s the type to check in with you multiple times a day just to make sure you’re doing okay. s. coups values communication and works hard to ensure any misunderstandings are resolved quickly. his grounded nature makes you feel secure, and his quiet confidence is incredibly reassuring.

“i worry about you sometimes,” he admits one evening, his tone serious as he noticed your growing dark circles. you smile, squeezing his hand. “it’s just work. i’m fine, love.” he shakes his head. “still, i’ll always be here if you need me. no matter what.”

di ♡ no

dino’s relationship dynamic is youthful and full of excitement, but it’s also surprisingly mature. as the youngest, he’s eager to prove that he can be a reliable and loving partner, whether or not you’re older than him. dino constantly goes out of his way to make you feel special, whether it’s through sweet surprises or simply being attentive to your needs. he loves sharing his passions with you, often inviting you to watch him practice or showing you new choreography. while he can be playful, dino is deeply reflective and values your opinions and feelings, always striving to grow alongside you.

“do you think i’m doing okay?” he asks after a quiet moment while you’re curled up against his chest before sleeping. “you’re just perfect,” you reply with a soft smile. he grins, a little shy. “i just want to make sure you’re happy. that’s the most important thing to me.”

notes: part two out soon <3

[moonstruckme]

Hi I’m a huge fan of your work, especially how you write Remus. Could I request Remus and reader getting dressed up for a dinner date/wedding/fancy party? And they’re just smitten over each other and can’t get enough of each other?

Thank you gorgeous!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 732 words

You hear Remus’ frustrated grunt from within the bathroom. Pause in dabbing your lipstick. 

“Need help?” 

“No, I’ve—oh, fuck me. It’s fine, I’ve got it.” 

You smile to yourself at your boyfriend’s disgruntled tone. You finish up quickly, going into the bedroom to lend a hand. 

“Here, let me.” 

“I’m a fully grown adult.” Remus huffs but lets you take his tie into your hands. You start undoing his complicated knot. “I should know how to tie my own bloody tie.” 

“It’s easier when you’re not the one wearing it. Anyway, you only get practice a couple of times a year.” 

“Because I look like a knob in one,” he mutters, though his voice softens as he watches you fold one part of the fabric carefully over the other. 

“You don’t; you look handsome.” You let your eyes flit up to his, catching the sweet beginnings of his smile. “Suits suit you.” 

“Yeah, ha ha.” Remus grins down at you as you finish with his tie, tightening the knot himself. “Thank you, dove. Oh.” His expression shifts as you take a step back, eyes taking you in for the first time since you disappeared to the bathroom to get ready. His voice goes a bit breathy. “Oh, you look incredible.” 

A pleased heat rises to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you say, smoothing your hands down the sides of your dress self-consciously. “Could you zip me up?” 

Remus gestures for you to turn around, eyes still roving you from head to toe. You’ve always loved that, the way he watches things, taking in the world with quiet studiousness, but you think you may never get used to being the subject of such perusal. 

“Do you think my makeup might be a bit too much?” you ask as he draws the cold zipper up your spine, careful of any snags or catches. “Be honest.” 

“No, I don’t.” The zipper reaches the top, and Remus’ hands find your hips. He turns you towards him. “I think you look perfect.” He kisses your cheek, mindful not to disrupt any of your work. “Beautiful.” 

“Are you sure? There’s still time to change it, I could scale it back.” 

Remus frowns. His thumbs draw small circles over your hips, feeling the material of your dress. “If you want to, that’s fine. But why?” 

You shrug, sheepish. “I want your work friends to like me.”

“They’re going to like you.” 

He says it so easily, like there are no possible alternatives. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “I just want to look nice,” you say. “Or, I don’t know, refined. You’re all professors, I don’t want to be the only one who shows up in purple eyeliner or something.” 

“You’re not wearing purple eyeliner,” he points out. 

“For example.” 

Remus gathers you close, hand flat over the small of your back. “You’re very refined,” he tells you, looking you in your eyes. “You’re twice as refined as I am, and they like me fine.” 

You smile up at him. “You have credentials.” 

Remus tilts his chin down, until there’s only an inch or two between you. His lips curve. “I’ll accredit you.” 

“Flirt.” 

“Flatterer.” 

You laugh. Remus looks delighted, his lips coming down on yours with less restraint than you know to expect from him. It makes you smile wider, your mouths a mirror image as you press up onto your toes to give as good as you get. 

“Sorry,” he says after, a tad breathily. “I don’t want to mess up your lip…stuff.” 

You grin at him. “It’ll be okay.” You’ll fix it in the car.

Remus takes your hands, fingers lacing between yours. He lets them hang between you. 

“You wouldn’t be the only one in purple eyeliner,” he tells you, “but you might have to make peace with standing out, sweetheart. It’s hard to avoid when you’re the loveliest thing in the room.” 

You rub your lips together, giving him a meaningful look. “Not the loveliest thing,” you say. 

Your boyfriend blinks, surprised, before his eyes crinkle with fondness. He gives your hands a squeeze. “Now who’s the flirt?”

“Still you.” You let go of one of his hands but keep hold of the other, taking him with you to go find your shoes. “You’re the one in that tie.” 

Remus’ laughter sends a stream of butterflies straight through you. You wonder at having encouraged such a sound.

[ceilidho]

fear of god

prompt: There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 2 masterlist

-

How am I hearing you?

That should be the first question out of your mouth, but instead what comes out is a meek trembling of words. “E-excuse me?”

His smile doesn’t waver. “Asked if you could let me in, love. I’m a bit turned around.”

You pause for a moment to take stock of the situation. A programming that has served your species since the dawn of time quietly whispers something to you, its voice unintelligible but meaningful. The instinct to help kicks in with the man’s plea, but your own confusion stays its corresponding response. 

There’s a man outside the ship knocking on the window and you’ve never seen his face before. 

“Where did you—where did you even come from?” you ask. 

He waves a hand and it drifts slowly beside his helmet, encumbered by the lack of gravity. “Around. Lost contact with my crew and I’ve been trying to get some help ever since.”

His tone is too blasé for the situation. You’d expect fear or urgency, but he speaks as though reassuring you.

“Was there another ship nearby?” You don’t remember Graves mentioning any other ships in this sector of the solar system. With many funded by private corporations or individuals, the team might not be always privy to all ongoing missions, but the commander would have known if there was a ship within a lunar distance. 

“At some point,” he says, still smiling. Too friendly. 

It’s been months since you spoke to a man your age that you hadn’t seen drink their own piss via the ship’s recycled water filtration system. Not to shame anyone—you’re part of that statistic too—but you’ve realized in the past few weeks how far that knowledge has gone towards dampening any burgeoning attraction to anyone.  

But it occurs to you again—a thought burrowing into the recesses of your mind, like a phantom of itself, a loon call over a still lake—that you are hearing someone from outside the ship. Sound traveling through nothing; the very absence of sound. 

The thought is too big for your head, but it fits itself in anyway. It stretches uncomfortably because material reality usually wins in the end. What you can see and hear, you can trust. You know the world through what appears in front of you; that's always how it's been.

This time though, there's something you can't quite fit in your head.

“Wait, let me…let me get some help,” you tell him, taking a step away from the window. Your stomach clenches when he frowns, brows pulled together in concern.

“You sure, love? I can walk you through opening the doors if you need help. Same as my ship, I bet.” He chuckles nervously. “Been out here awhile now; not sure how much oxygen I’ve got left in the tank, if I’m honest.”

That almost gets you, but you remember protocol. For all your shortcomings, you’ve never not followed protocol. Opening the airlock and letting anyone in or out is a process strictly monitored by the commander, and you have no authority to grant anyone access without express permission. You know the access codes, of course, for security and safety reasons, but despite the sudden urgency in his voice, you haven’t been authorized to let him in. 

And then there’s the matter of—

Again, though his frame fills up most of the porthole, when you look out into the depths of space around him, you see nothing out there. You wonder if perhaps Graves purposefully omitted any mention of receiving a distress call from a ship with a lost crew member. 

It feels less than likely. 

“I’ll be back.” You take another step back, heart fluttering in your chest. “Just…wait. I’ll—”

The rest of your sentence never comes, tucked beneath your tongue. Your feet are already taking you away.

The metal floor clangs under your feet as you stumble away and down the hall towards the cargo hold. You can hear the man yell after you, his voice growing more and more distant the farther you run, until its echo lingers only in your head. 

Down the stairs and through the main corridor, you pass the medbay on your way to the cargo hold, the room at the far end of the spacecraft accessible only by descending below the orlop deck. You come galloping down the stairs so fast that you nearly trip over the last one. 

The doors to the hold slide open at your approach. Though the cargo hold on the ship isn’t as gargantuan as some you’ve seen before, it’s still big enough for your footsteps to echo across the room when you make your way inside. Crates holding the ship’s sampling gear and equipment are tied down to the floor by fiber-reinforced polymer straps and covered by heavy-duty nets. The smell of fuel and ozone is pungent, thick in the air. 

The temperature in the hold is a degree or two hotter than the rest of the ship, putting you instantly on edge. Irritable; uncomfortable. Heat clings to the grooves of your skin, sinking past the epidermis. You tug your collar out with a finger. 

“Hello?” you call out into the hold, voice reverberating off the walls.

No one responds. Perhaps Farah did come for her brother, as she mentioned earlier. It wouldn’t do for you to linger in the empty hold then, the man outside the ship still a pressing concern. 

The ceiling is banded by metal beams, ferrous pipes running up the walls to the rafters, gurgling and whistling as water passes through. You can see the shoddy workmanship in the exposed scaffolding, areas that should’ve long ago been covered up or hidden away behind walls. A pipe in a far corner overhead drips onto the concrete below. 

“Looking for someone?” a voice asks from directly behind you, and your heart jumps into your throat at the sudden sound. 

When you whirl around, Hadir stands in the middle of the cargo hold, shoulders slouched and hands stuffed in his pockets. He lifts an eyebrow at the look on your face. Though he shares some features in common with his sister, his build is entirely different; stockier, slightly softer. Round jaw to her sharp. The same widow’s peak though, and the same nose. 

“Yeah, hi—morning, by the way.” You gesture with your thumb towards the door. “I, just…this is going to sound wild, but I think I just…I think someone’s outside the ship.”

The easy look falls off his face in favor of a more serious expression. 

“Outside the ship?” he repeats in disbelief. 

“Yes, I know, but I swear. Can you just—” Frustration makes you curt. Partial embarrassment too because you know how it sounds. 

There shouldn’t be anyone outside the ship because you’re in the middle of nowhere with no other spaceships around for hundreds of thousands of miles. There shouldn’t be anything other than carbonaceous and silicate asteroids drifting outside the ship. Rubble as small as grains of sand.  

He frowns. “Did someone get locked out of the ship? Why didn’t you go get Graves?”

“It’s not—” Again, you can’t seem to find the words, the right one getting lost in translation. “It’s not someone from the crew.”

Something shifts across his face, a micro-expression that makes your throat tighten involuntarily, but he nods and follows you out of the hold. 

Nerves plague you on the walk back to the porthole. Since you lead the way, you can’t look back and gauge Hadir’s expression, but you can feel his eyes heavy on your back. Skepticism still thick in the air, so rich you can almost taste it. You can hardly blame him. Were it anyone else, you’d think them delusional too. 

The walk back feels twice as long somehow. At the top of the staircase, you breathe quietly out of your mouth in order to catch your breath without letting on how winded you are. Hadir’s footsteps echo yours, a beat off the entire walk back to the corridor you left just a few minutes ago. 

When the porthole finally comes into view, you freeze, causing him to nearly walk right into you. Any apology for the sudden halt doesn't get off the back of your tongue.

A dark, empty nothingness perforated by light in the far off reaches of space. Your throat goes dry at the sight. 

“There was someone outside,” you say. It comes out whispery thin. 

You almost don’t need him to walk up to the glass and look out, knowing already what he’ll see. It’s immediately evident, the porthole free of anyone or anything obscuring the hazy band of stars off in the distance.

There’s no way to see Hadir’s expression as anything other than concerned. He peers out of the porthole again, twisting his head to the right and left in order to see as far as the view extends. 

“I, uh…I don’t see anything out there,” he finally admits, a tad awkwardly. He has a hard time meeting your eyes. 

“Oh,” you reply, nonplussed.  

You step up to the window alongside him. Stars leak out of the blackness of space; eternal night. It’s a long way from anywhere out here. 

“He might’ve gone to another window.”

For a beat, Hadir doesn’t respond. You’re both thinking the same thing. It’s unlikely that if anyone were out stranded in the middle of space that they’d float aimlessly around their only means of salvation rather than just wait for help. 

“Maybe you just saw your own reflection,” Hadir suggests. "It happens. Freaks me out too sometimes."

The tone of voice he uses irks you; it’s vaguely placating, like he’s trying to reassure you as well as himself.

There’s nothing wrong with you though. You saw what you saw and heard what you heard. There was a man outside the porthole hovering in space and he spoke to you. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you say instead. 

You stare at the faint, runny outline of your own face in the window. No matter how hard you stare, you can’t imagine her suddenly opening her mouth and talking to you. 

When the two of you finally part ways, you head for the medbay on autopilot. The mug that was in your hand is long gone—probably accidentally put down when you went looking for Hadir in the cargo hold—and you regret not stopping by the galley for a refill. 

It bothers you that Hadir went the other way, towards the cockpit instead of back to the cargo hold. You wonder whether someone called him up before you found him. 

The medical unit on this ship is smaller than what you’re used to for interplanetary travel. They’ve supplied you with the equipment necessary for simple surgeries and nothing more; anything more complex is left to chance and divine intervention. The operating table in the center of the room comes equipped with a scanner capable of medical imaging and diagnosing. 

It’s an incredibly insular room on top of that, having been designed without windows. Not atypical for a medical bay. Though bigger than your personal quarters, you often find yourself on edge when spending any prolonged amount of time in your work station. 

For all of its flaws, the ship is equipped with a rudimentary form of artificial intelligence. It mainly assists with performing diagnostics, assisting with determining the best trajectory for the spacecraft, and enabling autonomous navigation, the latter function being temporarily suspended after the impact from the day before, but it has some use. You’re especially lucky that every computer on board gives you access to the AI, meaning that you can stay cooped up in the medical unit rather than venturing back to the cockpit where your inquiry might wind up drawing more attention to you than you’d like. 

You lean forward in your chair, a leg tucked into your chest as you flip a switch on the dashboard on the wall behind the computer and then a button on the keyword, the familiar blip letting you know to speak. 

“Ship, please scan the perimeter for any nearby foreign objects.”

Chewing your nails and staring at the computer, you watch it light up, words and symbols flashing across the screen, buttons flicking on and off on the dashboard behind it. The ship rumbles around you as it scans the surrounding vacuum of space for anything with mass. The foot still touching the ground taps, a restless twitch running through your leg. 

The blip of completion makes you jolt in your chair. 

No anomalous objects detected around ship's exterior

You press the button again. “That’s—that’s not possible, Ship. I saw someone out the window.”

When you let go of the button again, the computer goes quiet, running through another round of calculations, performing the same diagnostic again. Another distended moment of anticipation. You hold your breath until the computer beeps, the perimeter inspection complete. 

Scan complete

No anomalous objects detected around ship's exterior

The secondary confirmation makes your stomach sink. 

It’s difficult to articulate the feeling in your chest. Halfway between disbelief and unease. Perhaps a simple error in judgment, but you can’t simply look past the voice you heard from the astronaut outside the porthole. In your life, you’ve made plenty of mistakes and bad calls; you’ve run the gamut of mistakes, everything from going back to old flings to nearly misdiagnosing a patient. 

You have never seen things that weren’t there. 

Still, the reading on the screen doesn’t waver. You stare at it until your watering eyes force you to blink. 

You chew the nail of your middle finger until it tears. Sweat slicks the small of your back and the soft skin under your arms. 

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself. “Okay.”

[pellucid-constellations]

Lessons in Care

Pairing: Line Cook!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel loves you so much. Even though you can't cook. You're trying though.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: A small injury

a/n: Consider this a small gift to make up for me disappearing for a month <3 This is part of the line cook au, but as I've mentioned, nothing is really in order so read however you want :) The rest of this AU can be found in my masterlist right there ⬇ love you <3

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

“Like this?” You shook the pan a little harder, the handle's weight tweaking your wrist at an odd angle. 

“Almost. Try not to hold your elbow so close to your body. It won’t flip right.” 

You pressed your lips together and narrowed your eyes. “This is so hard.” 

“I believe in you,” Azriel teased, an amused upturn of his eyes as he watched you struggle. 

“Why is this pan so heavy? It’s literally like 40 pounds.” 

“It’s cast iron, baby.” 

“That’s stupid.” 

Azriel barked out a laugh, red tinting his cheeks as if he hadn’t expected the sound to leave his lips. Your mouth quirked up in a small smile despite your struggle. You shot your gaze to the side to try and catch the sweet expression that still lingered on Azriel’s face.

“Would you like me to do it?” Azriel posed after clearing his throat. 

“Of course not. I came early so you could teach me.” 

“I could teach you another time. You have class soon.” 

“Why do you want me to fail?” 

“I don’t—” 

“You totally do. You want me unable to cook for myself so I’ll always have to rely on you, and then I’ll never be able to leave you.” 

Azriel laughed again, a quiet, rumbling sound. “You caught me. Now hand that over before you hurt yourself.” 

You groaned and turned slightly to evade your boyfriend’s reach. “Az, I’m serious. Teach me how to flip these stupid eggs right now.” 

“Okay, okay. Just let me help.” 

The feel of Azriel’s hand lightly sliding over yours startled you. You jumped and your fingers twitched, the sudden motion sending the tips of your fingers too far forward until a simmering pain shot through your skin. You flung the pan back on the burner instantly, its contents splattering along the stove and into the open flame. It burned a bright orange and then settled as you held your hand close to your chest. 

You hissed a breath through your teeth and Azriel’s hands were on you. 

“Shit, baby, let me see, yeah?” he stressed, mindlessly turning the burner off without taking his eyes off you. He tugged your hand at your chest with gentle fingers. “Let me see.” 

You released the tight grip on your fingers and rested them in Azriel’s open palm. “I was just surprised. I don’t think it’s that bad.” 

Azriel’s brow furrowed as he examined your burn. He tsked, pulling you gently by your wrist over to the sink. “It’s going to blister.” 

Cool water rushed from the pipes and soothed your skin. Azriel held your wrist in a soft grip and turned your hand slowly, back and forth in a repetitive motion. 

“I don’t think so, Az. It’s not that bad.” 

Azriel shook his head. “That pan was pretty hot—I’d be surprised if it didn’t.” He looked up at you. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

You offered a gentle smile and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “You didn’t scare me.” You raised your brow playfully. “You just made me nervous. A cute guy like you holding my hand—reaching over to help me to cook. Made me all jumpy.” 

Azriel breathed out a disbelieving scoff. “I’ve done far worse than just hold your hand.” 

“Scandalous!” you proclaimed, affronted. “How can you say such things at work, Azriel? You’ll be fired.” 

“I can only hope,” Azriel grumbled. 

Azriel directed you to keep your hand under the water as he dug through a cabinet for the first-aid kit despite your protests. You truly felt that you were fine and didn’t even need a bandaid, but it was easy to forget the multitude of scars that littered Azriel’s hands and how they contrasted with your completely unmarred skin. 

That was purposeful, meaningful—Azriel worked hard so you wouldn't have to. Azriel found peace in keeping you safe and happy. 

So you let him fuss. 

“Okay, let me see again, baby,” Azriel requested, flipping the water off and reaching for your hand. Your skin stung as it met the air beyond the sink, but Azriel’s caring touch was like a balm. 

He dried your fingers with a towel and uncapped a spray bottle, coating your burn with too much of the medication before grabbing a set of gauze and tape. You stared at the materials in exasperation. Azriel didn’t notice the expression and continued to admisinister care as if you’d been in a fire.

“Az, I love you so much, but I don’t need all of that. It’s a small burn. I’ve probably done worse with my curling iron.” 

Your boyfriend only hummed and continued his work. “I don’t want it to scar. It blistered already.” 

“Yes, but—” 

“Almost done.”

You let him work. A few moments of silence passed. Azriel kept his gaze hard and his brow set in a harsh line. 

That wouldn’t do. 

Once your finger was fully wrapped and protected from everything Azriel could fear, you puckered your lips in contemplation and shook your head. 

“Still hurts really bad,” you admitted, leaning back against the counter. Azriel followed your movements, leaving little space between you. 

“What?” he questioned, a tinge of panic in his tone. “That should’ve numbed it. How bad does it hurt?” 

“Really, really bad. Like my whole hand is on fire, actually.”

Azriel—who had yet to release your fingers—stared down at them in startled befuddlement. He turned them one way and then another as if that would answer his questioning gaze, and then looked back up to meet your eyes in a way that was almost pleading. 

“I’m sorry, maybe I should—”

“You have to kiss it,” you revealed, not wanting the sad expression to linger on his face any longer. “Duh.” 

Azriel let out a breath that bordered on relief, but most of it seemed founded in exasperation. He shook his head and brought your fingers up to his lips all the same, smiling to himself as he began to kiss each of your fingertips. Even the ones that clearly weren’t burnt. He flipped your hand over and kissed the knuckles, too, capturing your eyes as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes. 

“‘M sorry you got hurt,” he mumbled with his lips against the back of your hand. “Told you you shouldn’t try cooking, baby.” 

The warm feeling that had begun to seep into your chest paled in comparison to the offended scoff that echoed in the empty kitchen. Azriel’s poorly concealed, devious smile was hidden in the kisses he started pressing into your palm, and although it would have fit the sound you let out, you didn’t pull away. 

“Azriel, you are just asking for me to—” 

“The hell is going on in here?” The kitchen door smacked against the frame as Cassian made his entrance. “Someone get hurt?” 

Azriel dropped your hand just as soon as Cassian had spotted him pressed against you, clearing his throat and turning to the disheveled first-aid kit on the counter. You brought your knuckles up to your mouth to hide your laugh at Azriel’s expense, his face flushing in vulnerability. 

“Oh, I see what was going on. You were romancing your girl, weren’t you, Az? Well, don’t let me interrupt. You came in early and everything,” Cassian teased, his hands raised in surrender. 

“We were just finishing up,” you countered, a laugh trickling through. “I have to get to class, Cass. You can start your shift.” 

“Uh huh,” Cassian smiled, raising his brows and then lowering them when he caught your hand reaching for your backpack. “You okay?” 

“She’s fine,” Azriel interrupted. He took your bag from you and slung it over his shoulder, pressing a nonchalant kiss to your head that you knew was actually not nonchalant. “I’m going to take her to school. Cover for me for 20?” 

“Sure, man.” 

“Az, I was going to take the bus you don’t have to—” 

“C’mon, baby.” 

“But I don’t even have my helmet for your bike.”

“I always bring your helmet.”

[thesecondhandwoman]

hi!! i’ve recently come across your account and i absolutely love your works. i was wondering if i would be able to request a caitlyn kiramman x female reader? perhaps when she’s commander, but i was thinking some angst where the two of you just aren’t good for each other? but you’re trying to hold on to each other because you only have each other and nobody else. but it could be when you both just start getting into arguments more frequently and there’s just a point where you both just break down to each other??

TETHERED HEARTS

Caitlyn x f!reader

Synopsis: Your relationship with Caitlyn wasn’t always in the gutter up until she became a commander and you two struggled to love one another without complications. But after a while, it became too much.

Request: Anon 🤍

The knock at Caitlyn’s office door was curt, almost hesitant, but still sharp enough to draw her attention from the towering pile of paperwork on her desk. She didn’t glance up immediately.

“Come in,” she called, her voice tight with fatigue.

The door creaked open, and there you stood, cradling two mugs of tea in trembling hands. The sight of you—your posture stiff, your eyes clouded with weariness—was enough to make her heart clench. It always did.

“I thought you might need this,” you murmured, your voice barely louder than the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Caitlyn leaned back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Thank you,” she said, though the gratitude lacked its usual warmth.

You stepped closer, setting one mug down on her desk before hesitating. You lingered, your eyes scanning her face for any trace of softness, any invitation to stay. But Caitlyn’s gaze remained glued to the papers in front of her.

“Long day?” you asked quietly.

Her laugh was hollow. “Aren’t they all?”

You swallowed hard, the silence stretching between you like a chasm. Finally, you forced a smile and turned to leave, but her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait.”

You turned back, hopeful. She looked up at you then, her expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, you thought she might say something meaningful, something that could bridge the growing distance between you. But all she said was, “Lock the door on your way out.”

Your heart sank. You nodded, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak, and left her office without another word.

The fights started small. They always do.

It was about forgotten plans at first—a dinner Caitlyn had promised to make time for but missed because of a last-minute meeting, a rare afternoon off you’d planned for the two of you that ended with her asleep on the couch, too exhausted to even eat. You told yourself it wasn’t her fault. She was trying. You both were.

But the arguments grew sharper, heavier, like stones piling up in the river of your relationship until the current couldn’t flow freely anymore.

“You don’t understand what it’s like!” Caitlyn snapped one night, pacing the small apartment you shared. Her uniform jacket hung off her shoulders, the crisp fabric wrinkled and stained with the grime of another long day in Piltover’s streets.

“And you think I don’t care?” you shot back, your voice cracking under the weight of your frustration. “Do you have any idea how it feels to sit here every night wondering if today’s the day you don’t come home?”

Caitlyn froze, her back to you. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, but no less cutting. “I didn’t ask for this job to be easy. And I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You blinked back tears, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Is that what you think this is? Some obligation? I’m here because I love you, Caitlyn, not because I have to be.”

She turned to face you then, her expression a mix of anger and something softer—regret, maybe, or doubt. “Then why does it feel like I’m failing you every time I walk through that door?”

“Because you won’t let me in!” you cried, your voice trembling. “You shut me out, Caitlyn. I’m here, and I’m trying, but you, ” Your voice broke. “You make me feel like I’m just another thing on your to-do list.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Caitlyn looked at you, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she dropped her gaze and shook her head.

“I can’t do this right now,” she muttered, brushing past you and disappearing into the bedroom.

The sound of the door closing behind her felt like the final nail in the coffin.

The breaking point came on a rainy night, weeks later. The fights had become a constant background noise in your life, like static on a radio you couldn’t turn off. And yet, you both held on, clinging to the fragile hope that things could get better, that the love you shared was enough to weather the storm.

But love alone was never enough.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Caitlyn said, her voice shaking as she stood in the middle of the living room, her hands trembling at her sides. Her uniform was gone, replaced by the soft sweater you’d bought her for her birthday, but it did nothing to soften the sharpness of her words.

You stared at her, your own hands clutching the back of the couch like it was the only thing keeping you upright. “You think this is easy for me? Watching you come home every night looking like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders? Feeling like I’m just—just in the way?”

“You’re not in the way,” Caitlyn said, but her voice lacked conviction. “You’re not. I just… I don’t know how to balance this. I don’t know how to be enough for you when I can barely keep myself together.”

Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head. “And I don’t know how to keep fighting for us when it feels like I’m the only one trying.”

Caitlyn flinched, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re not the only one. I’m trying, too, but maybe—maybe we’re just not good for each other.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You stared at her, your heart shattering into a thousand pieces. “Don’t say that,” you whispered. “Please don’t say that.”

“I don’t want to,” Caitlyn said, her voice breaking. “But what are we doing to each other? We’re holding on so tightly, but all we’re doing is hurting.”

You took a shaky step forward, reaching for her. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t reach back, either. “We can fix this,” you said desperately. “We have to. You’re all I have, Caitlyn. I don’t know who I am without you.”

She closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. “And you’re all I have,” she whispered. “But maybe that’s the problem. We’re clinging to each other because we’re afraid to be alone, not because this is working.”

The truth of her words hit you like a tidal wave. You sank to your knees, sobs wracking your body as you buried your face in your hands. Caitlyn knelt beside you, her arms wrapping around you even as she cried, too.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. You just held each other, your tears mingling as the rain poured down outside.

Hours later, you sat together on the couch, the space between you both painfully close and impossibly far. Caitlyn held your hand in hers, her thumb brushing gently over your knuckles.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she said softly, her voice hoarse from crying.

“You won’t,” you said, though the words felt hollow. “We’ll figure this out. Somehow.”

Your words lingered in the air for a few more as the silence stretched between you, heavy and fragile, but Caitlyn’s hand in yours kept you tethered. Neither of you moved to break it, not yet at least. Words felt too clumsy, too sharp for the vulnerability hanging in the air.

Instead, Caitlyn shifted closer, her hand never leaving yours. She brought your entwined fingers to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, the gesture so soft it nearly broke you all over again.

“Stay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just stay here with me tonight.”

You blinked at her, startled by the plea in her voice after everything that happened only hours ago. “I wasn’t going to leave,” you murmured. “I don’t think I could.”

Caitlyn exhaled shakily and nodded, but she didn’t let go of your hand. Her other hand reached up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing away the tear tracks there. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “For everything. For shutting you out, for hurting you, for making you feel like you weren’t enough.”

You shook your head quickly, leaning into her touch. “Don’t apologize for feeling overwhelmed, Caitlyn. I know you’re trying. I see how much you carry, and I hate that I’ve made it heavier.”

She closed her eyes, her forehead falling gently against yours. “You didn’t make it heavier. You made it bearable. I’m the one who made you feel alone when all you’ve ever done is love me.”

Your chest ached at her words, but you couldn’t stop yourself from brushing your lips against hers in the lightest of kisses. It wasn’t hungry or desperate, but full of something deeper—a shared longing for comfort, for reassurance.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you said again, your voice barely a whisper. “We can figure this out. We have to.”

She nodded, her breath mingling with yours. “We will,” she promised softly. “Together.”

Caitlyn pulled you into her lap then, her arms wrapping tightly around you as if she could hold you together with the strength of her embrace alone. You buried your face in the crook of her neck, her scent, mixed of lavender and rain, grounding you.

“I’m so tired,” you admitted, your voice muffled against her skin. “Of fighting with you. Of feeling like we’re breaking apart.”

“I know,” Caitlyn whispered, her fingers threading through your hair. “Me too. But I don’t want to give up on us. I’ll do better. I’ll make time, let you in. I just—I need you to remind me it’s okay to lean on you.”

You nodded against her shoulder, your arms tightening around her waist. “Always,” you said softly. “We’re a team, Caitlyn. You don’t have to do this alone.”

She exhaled shakily, her hands roaming up and down your back in soothing strokes. “And you don’t have to feel like you’re just waiting for me to come home. I want us to be more than that. I need us to be.”

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside your apartment forgotten. Eventually, Caitlyn shifted slightly, her hands cupping your face as she pulled back just enough to look at you.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours. “You’ve been carrying so much, and I’ve been too blind to see it.”

Your lip quivered, but you nodded. “Okay.”

She guided you to your shared bed, her touch tender and unhurried. She helped you out of your day clothes, replacing them with one of her soft sweaters, the fabric still warm from the dryer. Then she disappeared briefly, returning with a damp cloth to wipe away the tearstains from your face. Her movements were so gentle, so precise, that it made your chest tighten.

“Lie down,” she murmured, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder. You did as she asked, watching as she climbed into bed beside you.

Caitlyn curled around you, her arms wrapping protectively around your waist. “You’re everything to me,” she whispered into your hair. “Even when I’m terrible at showing it. Especially then.”

You let out a shaky breath, turning in her arms so you could press a soft kiss to her temple. “And you’re everything to me. No matter how hard it gets.”

She held you closer, her fingers lacing with yours once more. “We’ll figure this out,” she said, her voice filled with quiet determination. “One day at a time.”

You nodded, your tears soaking into her sweater as exhaustion finally pulled you under. And as you drifted off to sleep in her arms, you let yourself believe, just for a moment, that love—flawed and messy as it was—might still be enough.

A/N: I wrote this at 2 in the morning so it is not even close to proofread, but I hope it’s okay either way (I’ll read it later when I have the strength to not possibly cringe).

[baronessvonglitter]

Blue Hour

outlaw!Joel Miller x runaway hitchhiker!f!Reader

Word count: 2.8K

Summary: hitchhiking in the cruel Texas desert, you're picked up by a handsome stranger

WARNINGS: outlaw!Joel (not mentioned exactly what criminal activity he's involved in, but he does bear scars and looks as if he's been in a fight recently), also he's on the run, brief mentions of parental abuse and alcoholism, strangers to lovers, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex (birth control is briefly discussed), soft!Joel (he's respectful of boundaries)

Author's Note: I had initially wanted to do a trucker story, but thought that the criminal element fit better here. I would absolutely love to see a trucker!Joel fic if it doesn't already exist. Please do tag me if it does! Also this is lightly edited but the love is there..

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You're both running from something; that's how you find each other.

On a lonely stretch of highway in West Texas, Joel Miller picks you up on the side of the road, his mindset one of penance. If he does a good thing by saving someone maybe he can save himself. You're just glad to get away, as far away as possible from a mom who drank all the time, berated you, beat you, and was only at her most peaceful when she was passed out cold.

It's a danger in and of itself to get into Joel's truck, and a danger to come into his motel room, but to you, any other place is safer than where you grew up. The little roadside motel is brightly lit, welcoming, the sign neon against the cerulean summer evening sky.

By the fluorescent glow of the cheap TV screen with its staticky channels you exchange your stories. Joel doesn't tell you much apart from the fact that he's headed to New Mexico, and the scar on his nose, the way he's healing from a black eye you surmise is probably from a couple weeks ago. He carries a gun and his wallet is thick with cash. You can tell he's bad news but you don't care. You're just happy to have a roof over your head for the night and a plan of some sort of future taking shape in your mind.

With only one bed he offers to take the floor, but you insist it's fine to share. He's been a gentleman so far, despite the obvious flirtatious vibes you've been giving. It's impossible to keep to yourself as you both settle down to sleep. Your new life started the day you walked away from your home. You're a different person in this bed, laying on a cheap mattress with a handsome stranger. And, though you've never gone much farther than kissing, the newness of desire tugs at you from deep within.

"Joel.." his back is turned to you and he barely catches you calling for him. You press your hands to his back, which immediately gets his attention. He looks at you with slight confusion, as if he'd forgotten you were there, and when he sees the meaningful look in your eyes he knows what it is you want, and you don't stop him when he pulls you close.

Joel's fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand roaming over your waist and hip, caressing and claiming you with a hungry and desperate fervor. You moan softly, your tongues dancing against each other, and you melt under the sweet shared pleasure. Your fingers slip beneath his shirt, feeling the broad smooth expanse of his back.

His senses are afire as your fingers trace along his bare skin, and his own hands continue to wander, skimming along your sides, gently caressing the curve of your hip. He pulls back just enough to take a breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours, breathing in short, shallow gasps.

"I like the way you taste," you tell him, your confession soft and simple in the twilight glow of the room, your words caressing his lips. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he gazes at you in the semi-darkness.

"Yeah? And how do I taste, darlin'?" There's an edge of a growl to his words, his fingers stroking softly along your cheek, a fusion of longing and restraint etched into his expression.

"Like cinnamon, and whiskey," you whisper. "You taste like pleasure.."

He pulls you closer, nudging his nose against yours as a low, possessive growl rumbles in his chest. "You taste like sunshine and sweetness, sugar.." He dips his head back down to capture your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips, swallowing your moans. Every sound, every gasp you make, fuels the fire burning within him, igniting an intoxicating blend of desire and hunger.

One arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand slides down your back, trailing fire along your skin as he moves lower, gently cupping your ass and pulling you against the heated length of his body. You gasp at the intimate touch. The way he presses you to his hardness awakens and excites something in you. "Joel!" you gasp.

The sound of his name, breathed out so sweetly from your lips, sends a shiver down his spine. "That's it. darlin'.. say my name.."

You whimper at the sweet friction as he continues to deliberately press you to his hardened arousal, kneading your cheeks. "Joel.." you say obediently, whispered in innocent pleasure.

He groans softly. "That's my good girl.." He presses you against him once more, allowing you to feel the full extent of his arousal, the heat and weight of it grinding against your core. Desire floods your veins and you slowly undulate your hips, finding little comfort in merely rubbing against him. "Fuck, you drive me crazy, darlin'," his voice is husky and raw with need.

"I want you.. please don't make me wait.." you tell him.

"Yeah? You want me.. like this? Is this how you want me to fuck you?" Joel's voice drips with primal need as he grinds against you, feeling the heat and wetness, his own arousal painfully hard at this point.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat. "I can't think about anything else right now. Just you.. with me."

"Darlin', I can't hold back anymore.." he warns, but he takes time to ask about birth control, and you assure him you are covered.

You reach up to kiss him, before breaking apart a moment to take off your top and help him remove his own. The feel of his warm flesh against yours is heavenly. He bears scars and old wounds upon his flesh, evidence of a life lived in danger. But right now you only think about how warm he feels, how strong he is. "I just want to feel your skin against mine for a little bit.."

Joel's touch is almost reverent as his large, calloused hands roam your bare skin, learning the contours of your soft supple flesh, cupping each breast. "My sweet girl.." he whispers in awe.

Likewise, you trace every little scar, thinking on how each of those fights, those deadly interactions, brought him one step closer to you. "I need you," he whispers, feeling more alive, brand new under the heat of your palms on his chest. His fingers find the waistband of your panties and his eyes quickly flick to yours, seeking permission. "Is this all right?" You nod eagerly, "Lift up your hips for me," comes his quiet command, and he gently tugs at the elastic, slowly pulling your panties down your thighs. He sees you laid bare before him, your inner thighs moist with desire, the curls on your mound dewy with want. "God damn.. you're so beautiful.. I wanna taste you.." he groans, pressing a heated kiss against the sensitive skin just beneath your hipbone.

You sigh at his kiss, his beard pleasantly scratching your skin. "Yes.. please.."

Joel's tongue flicks out to taste the heated flesh between your thighs, groaning softly at the flavor of you on his tongue before he begins to lick through your slick, puffy folds. He smiles as you gasp, your eyes wide and mouth parted in an O. "Joel!" you moan, panting as his tongue explores you. When he said he wanted to taste you, you assumed he meant more kissing. You hadn't expected this, hadn't known this was possible. Your fingers fist in his hair as he continues. He groans against you, the sound vibrating deliciously against your cunt. "Taste so sweet,.. like heaven.. my sweet girl.." he whispers between long, languid licks, his arms wrapping around your trembling thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts. His tongue flicks and dances over your clit, swirling and teasing, wanting to learn every inch of you, what makes you scream and what makes you whimper, getting drunk on your taste like a thirsty man lost in the desert.

Your hips arch up to meet each lick, each worshiping swipe as his pace becomes more insistent, following the sound of your moans and sighs, feeling the shivering in your body, his tongue flicking and circling in a hungry rhythm, determined to bring you to the brink.

Your thighs start to quake but he expertly keeps them spread open, feasting on you. "God! Joel, I'm coming!" Pleasure uncoils from the very center of you, radiating outward, controlling every other sense and thought. His hands grip your shaking thighs, lapping up all your sweet nectar. "That's it, darlin', let go for me.. I got you.." he whispers. He gently eases you through your orgasm, tongue slowing, savoring every drop he can. "God damn, sweetheart.. you taste so damn good.. you doing okay?"

"Yes," you pant, a light sheen of sweat forming on your skin. "Oh, Joel," you moan, bringing him to you for a kiss and tasting your flavor on his lips and tongue. He rises, crawling up your body until his weight is draped over you, his arms caging you in as you kiss, sharing your taste with you. He gazes down at you, the way you trust him implicitly ignites a mix of feelings: a raging, possessive need, a deep sense of responsibility, and a swelling of unbridled affection and adoration. He lifts a hand to gently caress your cheek, his thumb tracing soft patterns against your skin. You can see his heart and soul bared to you in that simple touch. Your skin is flushed, hair mussed, eyes bright. You've never looked more beautiful.

Joel shifts his weight, pressing closer against you, the pressure of his hard length against your hip undeniable as your eyes meet. You take him gently into your hands, grasping and feeling him. He groans at the softness of your hands wrapping around his arousal, eyes glazing over with pleasure. "God.. I want you.. need to feel you around me, sweetheart.."

You sense now that you have the power. Slowly you run your hands over his rigid cock, swiping your thumb across the tip, wiping away a bead of moisture. "Is it going to fit?" you ask, feeling the heft of it, both length and girth.

A guttural groan rumbles from his chest and his head bows down to bury his face against your neck. "It'll fit, sugar, I promise. Just take your time."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the ultimate thing that can bring you together, and will forever change what you mean to each other. "I'm ready for you.."

Joel's hands gently grip your thighs, guiding you to move and open further as he positions himself between your legs, the head of his cock resting against your entrance. His heart pounds as he looks down at you. "You sure, darlin'? I promise I'll go slow."

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Okay, just tell me if you need me to stop. I don't wanna hurt you." He presses to you a little more, eager to fill you but waiting on your word.

"Kiss me," you whisper.

He pours all his love and need into the kiss, swallowing your gasp as he presses forward, his thick cockhead just barely breaching you, his groan joining with yours at the feel of your tight heat around him. You break the kiss, resting your hands on his shoulders as he enters you, a little at a time. His fingers dig into your thighs, his expression a cross between pleasure and concern as he pauses, giving you a chance to adjust to him. "How is that, sweetheart? Am I hurtin' you at all?"

"Wait." You press your hands to his chest. "Wait a little bit," you pant, forcing yourself to relax around him in order to accommodate him.

Joel nods. "Take your time, sweetheart. I ain't goin' anywhere." He stills himself, using every inch of willpower in his possession, "Just breathe, darlin', you're doin' so good," he coos. "You feel so damn good... touch yourself, darlin'," he growls.

Your breath falters as you acquiesce, fingers flitting lightly over your distended clit, adding pressure, circling the cluster of nerve endings, making yourself wetter, letting him slide in a little bit more. Joel fights to maintain his control. "Fuck, you feel so good, so tight."

Despite his willingness to take it slow, your hormones are asking for something else. "Take what's yours," you whisper. "I want you to."

A deep groan rips loose from his chest at your words, the sound thick with need and desire, his control fraying at the thought of claiming you with a hard and deep thrust. "Take a deep breath, darlin'." He takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, his grip reassuring. "I love you, my sweet girl, my sunshine.." He pulls out slightly, his body tensing as he prepares, and his eyes lock with yours as he thrusts forward, hard and deep. You cry out in surprise and pain, which is little more than a brief shock before you become acclimated, leaving you with a lingering dull throb.

"Hey, shh, it's okay, it's okay darlin', breathe for me. You did so good, you took me all, such a good girl," comes Joel's praise as he cups your cheek with one hand and stroking your belly, easing the pressure there from his length taking up room so deep inside you. When you inadvertently squeeze around him, stretching to fit him, it sends a shock of pleasure spiraling through him. "Damn.. if you keep squeezin' me like that I ain't gonna last long, darlin'," he warns. He takes a deep breath, slowly pulling out, savoring the drag of it, before slowly pushing back in, starting a gentle, deliberate rhythm. "You're perfect, sugar."

Soon the friction begins to cancel out the dull ache, more so with each thrust. "Feels good," you sigh.

Joel's eyes flutter closed, his rhythm remaining slow and gentle, the feel of you surrounding him, the feel of being buried inside your warmth as the most perfect sort of pleasure, his breath coming in short pants. "Sweetheart.. oh sweetheart.. oh god.. damn you feel so right, like you were made for me."

"You were right," you smile, "you do fit."

"Yeah darlin', I'm right where I'm meant to be, buried so deep inside my sweet girl." He keeps moving against you, spine tingling with delight as he feels you moving with him, naturally, your bodies in sync with one another. "Yes, just like that.. move with me, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in pleasure, heart swelling at his praise. "Joel.. give me more.."

He groans, his eyes darkening as his pace quickens, hips rolling forward with a little more determination, the sounds of your flesh slapping together filling the air. "Like this, sugar?"

"Yes! Fuck!" you groan, lightning filling your veins as you move quicker together. Your words shoot straight to his soul, heat pooling and coiling in his gut. "God, Joel, I'm so close!" you whimper. His breath comes in sharp pants as he drives you closer to the edge, his rhythm growing rougher, less controlled. "Me too, sugar. I'm right there with you.. wanna feel you come around me, wanna hear you say my name. Say it, darlin', come for me and say my name."

"God!!" Eyes scrunched tight you let go, coming hard as your cunt clenches around him, fluttering hard and fast. "Oh!! Joel!!" you scream. Joel's pushed over the edge, giving a few jerky thrusts before you feel him twitching and pulsing inside you, filling you with his cum, his thighs shaking from the force of his pleasure. "Oh, fuuuucckk," he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, heart pounding wildly.

You feel his heart racing next to yours, almost as if beating with the same cadence, both of you trembling, spent, satisfied. He raises himself on his arms to look down at you. "You're so damn gorgeous, you know that? Especially when you're all breathless and flushed, still quakin' from comin' so hard."

Despite the breathtaking passion you'd just shared, you still blush. "Came hard thanks to you," you give him a soft kiss.

Joel grins, a cocky, proud smirk tugging at his lips, feeling a warm glow in his chest. He gently brushes back a strand of your hair. "How you feelin', sugar?"

"A little sore," you admit. "But I think, considering what we're working with, a little pressure was to be expected," you smirk, still feeling him inside you.

He chuckles, the sound of it making your heart thrum, as he slowly pulls out, knowing your still sensitive. "You took me like a goddamn champ, sweetheart."

You whimper at the loss of him, feeling his cum dribble out of you, and your eyes light up at his praise. "Really?"

"Really." He gazes down at you, his eyes a mixture of speculation and resourcefulness. "You wanna come with me to New Mexico, darlin'?"

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[deonsx]

Hi!!! I wanted to ask for an asthmatic!readerxRin, maybe they are best childhood friends and Rin feels the need to take care of her all the time:) 💞💞 (rry if my writing s bad, english isn't my first language)

Hii your writing is very well dont worry have a nice read my dear reader!! I wanna add sae here^^

The two of you had been inseparable since you were kids. Rin Itoshi wasn’t the kind of person to form close attachments easily but you were an exception. Maybe it was because you always stuck by him no matter how prickly he got or maybe it was because you were the only one who truly understood him even when he couldn’t put his feelings into words. Either way you’d been his best friend since forever

Your asthma however had always been a point of concern for him. From the first time he saw you struggle to breathe after an intense game of tag in the park Rin had made it his unspoken duty to look out for you “Are you sure you’re okay” Rin asked his teal eyes narrowing as you rummaged through your bag for your inhaler. You waved him off with a sheepish smile your breath still slightly uneven. “It’s fine Rin I just overdid it a little”

“You always say that” he muttered crossing his arms “But what if I wasn’t here What if-” He cut himself off jaw tightening. You sighed feeling a twinge of guilt. Rin rarely let his emotions show but when it came to you his worry was always just beneath the surface

“I’m fine really You don’t have to babysit me all the time” you said softly placing a hand on his arm. Rin glanced at your hand his frown deepening. “I’m not babysitting I just-” He trailed off his gaze flickering to the inhaler in your hand “I just don’t want anything to happen to you”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten and not because of your asthma. Rin wasn’t the type to say things like that easily which made it all the more meaningful when he did “You’re stuck with me for a long time Itoshi” you teased lightly trying to ease the tension. “I’m not going anywhere”

Rin didn’t smile but the sharp edges of his expression softened “Good Because if you scare me like that again I’m not letting you out of my sight” You laughed but the promise in his voice was clear. Rin would always be there for you whether you wanted him to or not

When he insisted on walking you home after school even though his own house was in the opposite direction “You didn’t have to come all this way, Sae” you said, adjusting the strap of your bag as you glanced at him “I know” he replied, his tone as flat as ever

“Then why are you here”

“Because I felt like it” You rolled your eyes knowing you wouldn’t get a real answer out of him. Sae’s way of showing he cared was always indirect like carrying your bag when you were too tired or slowing his pace when you were out of breath

As you approached a hill on your route, you felt the familiar tightness in your chest. You tried to keep your breathing steady, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, but Sae noticed immediately “Are you okay” he asked, his sharp gaze flicking to you. You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah I’m fine”

“You don’t look fine” he said, stopping in his tracks. “Did you bring your inhaler” You sighed, pulling it out of your bag. “I’m fine I just need a minute” Sae didn’t say anything, but he watched you closely as you took a puff of your inhaler. His silence was heavy, not with judgment but with unspoken concern

When your breathing finally steadied, you looked up at him. “See All good. You don’t have to worry so much” He clicked his tongue in irritation. “You say that every time and yet I always end up having to worry” You laughed softly, his frustration oddly endearing. “You’re too serious, Sae. I’ve been dealing with this forever”

“That doesn’t make it any less serious” he shot back. “You’re careless” You raised an eyebrow at him. “And you’re overprotective” Sae didn’t deny it. Instead, he sighed and grabbed your bag off your shoulder. “Let’s go. I’m carrying this the rest of the wayy”

“I can carry my own bag” you protested “Too bad” he said simply, already walking ahead. You smiled to yourself, jogging slightly to catch up. Sae might have had a sharp tongue and a cool demeanor, but moments like this reminded you of how much he cared even if he’d never admit it out loud

Enjoy!

[mylovesstuffs]

Vernon is THAT type of boyfriend !

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Vernon is so chill as a boyfriend, but it’s the kind of chill that makes you feel completely at ease. He’s like a human comfort zone—low-key, calm, and always giving you space to just be. But don’t mistake that for indifference; he cares deeply, he’s just not one for grand, dramatic gestures.

He’s a naturally observant boyfriend, noticing the little things about you without even trying. You change your hairstyle slightly? He clocks it immediately but doesn’t make a big fuss, just smiles like, yeah, I see you. He’s also surprisingly good at remembering random details about you—like your favorite niche snack or that song you casually mentioned once... SEVENTEEN will never believe or agree with this tho—

He doesn’t always know how to express his feelings with words, but he shows his love in the most Vernon-esque ways: sharing his playlist, tagging you in the weirdest memes, or randomly sending you blurry photos of something that made him think of you. His love language is so subtle, but once you get it, it’s everything.

Vernon isn’t one for PDA as much as others—subtle, but in private, he’s a whole different story. Oh god, that side of him. He’s the type to quietly pull you closer, resting his chin on your shoulder or tucking you against his chest while you’re watching something together. It’s so casual yet so intimate, you can’t help but melt.

He has this offbeat sense of humor that constantly catches you off guard. One moment he’s saying something incredibly profound, and the next he’s referencing the most random thing in pop culture. You’re either laughing uncontrollably or just staring at him like, how does his brain even work?

He’s super laid-back when it comes to arguments or disagreements. Vernon doesn’t raise his voice or get overly emotional; instead, he calmly listens, nods, and takes his time to process. It’s almost infuriating how logical and level-headed he is, but it’s also why fights with him don’t spiral out of control.

There’s a quiet intensity to him that makes him so intriguing. He doesn’t say a lot, but when he does, it’s meaningful. And when he looks at you—like, really looks at you—you can feel your heart skip a beat because holy hell, it’s like he’s seeing into your soul TT.

Vernon isn’t overly romantic in the traditional sense, but he’s full of unexpected gestures that hit you right in the feels. He’d casually buy you something you mentioned wanting weeks ago or show up at your door with your favorite drink because he thought you’d need it after a long day.

He’s the ultimate vibe-setter in your relationship. Late-night drives with his playlist? Yes. Chilling in comfortable silence while doing your own thing? Also yes. But when the mood shifts, oh boy. There’s something about the way he lingers in close proximity, his hand brushing against yours, that makes your heart race. Like, please HELP.

If you ever surprise him with affection, he gets this slightly flustered, awkward smile that makes you want to kiss him on the spot. He’s so effortlessly adorable, yet so unaware of it, and you’re just sitting there like, he’s so cute. (omg I can’t.)

He’s not the overly protective type, but he does have this quiet way of looking out for you. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re comfortable or checks in with you after a tough day. He might not say much, but his actions always speak volumes.

Vernon is surprisingly suggestive in his own low-key way. A fleeting touch here, a smirk there—it’s all so subtle but incredibly effective. And don’t get me started on how casually confident he can be when he’s teasing you, like, sir, where did this come from??

Being with Vernon feels like being with your best friend and your biggest crush rolled into one. He’s so down-to-earth and genuine, yet there’s this quiet magnetism about him that keeps you hooked. It’s the perfect mix of comfort and excitement, and honestly, you’re just obsessed.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

to many more | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

“what’s your favorite book?”

spencer looked away from his open files to turn in his chair to see you standing behind him, a couple of manila folders held close to your baby blue long sleeve dress shirt. he had to keep his eyes from dropping lower to get a glance at the curves that hugged to your black pants.

he coughed as he blinked a few times behind his glasses, “uh, well there’s- there’s too many to choose from. if you’re asking about general literature i’d probably say-“

you held a hand out with a shaky smile, “sorry. don’t mean to interrupt. but um, i’m asking if there’s a book or story that’s very meaningful full for you.”

spencer straightened his mouth, feeling it form into that usual line. he let his mind scour for a moment, “uh maybe… alice in wonderland. my mom used to read it as a bed time story from time to time in between narnia and fifteenth century literature. she used to read me valentines poems.”

he saw your brows raise for a moment, “that’s sweet. which did she recite the most?” you readjusted the files.

spencer tapped his fingers over his thighs, “mostly chaucer’s parlement of foules. The poem, which is in the form of a dream vision in rhyme royal stanza, contains one of the earliest references to the idea that St. Valentine's Day is a special day for lovers…” he stopped short when he saw a bored expression draping your face. “sorry, rambling.”

your eyes widen and you took a step closer, “no, no. you’re fine. your voice soothes me, probably looked a bit drowsy.”

spencer scrunched his face, “most people would look tired cause i’m boring them to sleep.” he saw your face fall at his words, he didn’t like the sight.

“well i like hearing your information. i find what you know quite fascinating, like last week you told me that flamingos feathers are actually white or pale gray, but appear pink cause of algae and shrimp. i would’ve never know that.” your smile pushed your cheeks, pupils beaming alight as he felt them ghostly tracing his face.

bashful your eyes directed to your feet, “i enjoyed our date last week.” moving some fingers to run behind your ear, “i’ve always wanted to visit the planetarium, but never found the time.”

spencer smiled fondly, “i’m glad i was able to get you the chance. sometimes they do thirty minute segments on each zodiac sign, it’s when i see a lot of ‘psychics’.”

you chuckled lightly, spencer’s grin widened. “i should take you to one for fun. just to test how real they are.”

he couldn’t help rolling his eyes, “don’t waste your money.” you shrugged simply, “could be a fun third date. she can verify that we’re a match.” giving your upper body a slight twisting at the waist.

before spencer could say anything in reply, you both turned to see hotch calling you from his upper office. “shit, forgot i had to drop these off. i’ll see you later.” and you stepped into his space to lean in an leave a kiss to his forehead. he could feel the residue of your fading gloss. he was happy there wasn’t many people in the bullpen, he didn’t want to deal with morgan’s teasing right now.

the only possible person to have witnessed that display would be hotch. “reid, a word,” his stern voice causing him to flinch in his seat. he quickly made his way up the steps and into the office, closing the door behind him and standing beside you with his hands behind his back. he wasn’t planning to have this conversation a month early.

“is there something you both would like to inform me on?” hotch letting either of you confirm your new relationship instead of assuming.

“uh,” you started to say before spencer interrupted more confidently, “y/n and i are currently seeing each other. it’s only been about two months.” he turned to you, eyes locking and both of you smiled at each other, “but i’d like to believe this will last awhile.”

“well,” hotch cleared his throat, “since you’ve probably read through the handbook spencer, there isn’t anything wrong with fraternization between employees. i would just need both of you to fill out some paperwork.”

you both nodded in agreement. “and please, try not to let this distract you in the field. otherwise you’ll have to be in separate rooms, hotel and assignments.”

“yes sir,” giving a playful salute as he dismissed you both. you decided to pull spencer by his hand in the direction of your, shared office, already knowing jj was busy elsewhere.

“i hope that was-“ you spun into spencer, palms on his cheeks as your lips pressed onto his. he went still for a moment, but you knew he just needed a second to process. his fingers curled along your hips, his warmth seeping through your fabric and onto your skin.

you sighed into his mouth as he worked your lips apart, taking the lead he moved both of you further into the office. your thighs hit the edge, a small gasping allowing for spencer to boldly slip his tongue into your mouth, your heart was pumping in your ears.

if you weren’t in the office you’d let your greedy fingers start to work at unbuttoning his shirt, but instead you were stopped short when someone groaned out, “holy shit!”

spencer was the first to jump away and you saw that penelope and jj were at the threshold with jaws dropped and bugged eyes. “you freaky love birds!” penelope screeched.

“i need to burn this room,” jj groaned as she turned on her heels.

[kroosluvr]

present day

if every day will be like this from now on, i'll look forward to every single one.

ok. Sits down. help meeee i tried using csp's comic tools for once (and also gradient maps + coloring w monochrome) to save time bUT I ENDED UP SPENDING THE USUAL AMT ANYWAY SO. . erm. WELL IT WAS FUN ANYWAYS

hiiiiiiiii i wrote this script 4 months ago nd finally did it (had this on the backburner for 20 million yrs bc i wanted to get out other angst bullshit first)

the parallels of goro's back (x3) on the first 2 pgs are kinda not 1:1 as i'd like but REGARDLESS i still like them. goro, who had utmost control over his life, running it like a machine, regardless of how he feels or if he's tired or if he wants to give up.......he was in control. knowing, of course, that his life is on the line at every waking moment, but since he was always on edge, always alert, he was still in control.

but now, surviving the long winter and coming out to the other side, he's lost that control AND that edge. now what is he left with? what is there left?

very speficially in the 2nd page.... i think its so <3 YAY <3 that goro, now, doesn't feel the need to take such spic-and-span clean-cut care of his appearance.., guy who rolls out of bed and throws on a shirt to go hangout w akira and sumire. he decides to tie up his hair and forgoes his gloves... feels more "comfortable" to change his apperance, to let down his guard a little. <- was the rough symbolism JKDSHKFS

sumire getting the choco croissant but letting goro have the first bite YEAHHHH WHATEVER

4th page symbolism is also rough i didnt think abt it too hard LMAO. 3rdsem goro watching his detective prince self leave. he knows acutely well that chapter of his life is over - whether he survives the long winter or dies in it. all that he knew - even though it was miserable and awful and frustrating and dangerous - is gone.

and now there's just this: the present day. whatever that means.

i think something important to me abt royal trio is just the idea of Learning To Just Exist: no need for a "purpose" or a "calling" or some overarching "goal". they just learn to exist.

and of course none of them really have a benchmark for "wow i like this i want to live like this" so they just roll with the punches, as they always have, but yknow. finally getting to live their honest student life as they always deserved

edit: and most importantly for goro, i think, is learning to cut himself some slack. "despite everything" he says, despite all the shit he's endured AND all the shit he's done, he feels like this is "right." whatever that means, he's ready to take it day by day to figure it out. AND THATS THE WHOLE THING Punches wall really hard

edit: I ALSO FORGOT. i think the sentiment of "being waited for" for goro means a lot. since he had to do everything by himself, fight for himself, decide everything for himself frm such a young age, the idea of akira and sumire waiting for him, inviting him out simply for him to be there -> is really meaningful to him, more than they could know.

edit AGAIN: also goro sleeping in means a lot to me. i imagine that guy has pretty terrible insomnia. ALSO HE HAS A BEDFRAME! i like the thought of his apartment being so /r/malelivingspaces throughout the game. he doesn’t deserve a bedframe. BUT HE HAS ONE NOW!

goros expressions in the last page gve me a hard time. sparkly....

also im SO freaking sorry if his voice isnt too well-written... i had a crisis over the wording while draiwng htis so much DSKHASKDASJK AND THE PANELING AND WHATEVERRR IDEK WHAT IM DOINGGG but it was fun!!!! exploratory..... regardless i will keep workign to do him and royaltrio justice. THUMBSUP EMOJI.