#let me build them up JUST TO BREAK THEM DOWN >:))))

[rosethyme]

Some excerpts from the article:

1. Trust yourself Trust-building starts with your own self. It includes trusting your own eyes and gut, as well as building protection from the ways the crazy-making can become internalized. 

This also means being trustworthy — not just with information, but with emotions. That way you can acknowledge what you know and admit the parts that are uncertain fears nagging at you. 

2. Find others who you trust Hannah Arendt’s “The Origins of Totalitarianism”explored how destructive ideologies like fascism and autocracy grow. She used the word verlassenheit — often translated as loneliness — as a central ingredient. As she meant it, loneliness isn’t a feeling but a kind of social isolation of the mind. We have to consciously break that distance. In Chile they organized under the guise of affinity groups. This was, as its name suggests, people who shared some connections and trust. Finding just a few people who you trust to regularly act with and touch base with is central.

I’ve written an agenda for such gatherings right after a Trump win that you can use.

All of us will benefit from actively organized nodes to help stabilize us. In a destabilized society, you need people who help ground you.

3. Grieve

No matter what we try to do, there’s going to be a lot of loss. The human thing to do is grieve. (Well, apparently humans are also very good at compartmentalizing, rationalizing, intellectualizing and ignoring — but the damage it does to our body and psyche is pretty well documented.)

If you aren’t a feelings person, let me say it this way: The inability to grieve is a strategic error.

4. Release that which you cannot change

An elder once saw me trying to do everything and pulled me aside. “That’s not a healthy lifelong strategy,” she said. Over the last few months I’ve been testing out a terribly challenging tool. It’s a journaling exercise that invites you to reflect on which issues you’ll spend energy on. It asks: what are issues you’ll throw down on, do a lot for, a little for, or — despite caring about it — do nothing at all for? That last question can feel like a kind of torture for many activists, even while we’re intellectually aware that we cannot stop it all.

5. Find your path

One pathway is called “Protecting People.” These are folks surviving and protecting our own — especially those of us directly targeted, such as trans people, folks choosing abortions and immigrants. Another pathway is “Defending Civic Institutions.” This group may or may not be conscious that current institutions don’t serve us all, but they are united in understanding that Trump wants them to crumble so he can exert greater control over our lives. Each bureaucracy will put up its own fight to defend itself.

Then there’s a critical third pathway: “Disrupt and Disobey.”This goes beyond protesting for better policies and into the territory of people intervening to stop bad policies or showing resistance.

Lastly, there’s a key fourth role: “Building Alternatives.”We can’t just be stuck reacting and stopping the bad. We have to have a vision. This is the slow growth work of building alternative ways that are more democratic.

6. Do not obey in advance, do not self-censor

I’m not coaching to never self-protect. You can decide when to speak your mind. But it is a phenomenally slippery slope here we have to observe and combat. 

Timothy Snyder has written a helpful book called “On Tyranny” — and turned it into a video series. He cites ceding power as the first problem to tackle, writing: “Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do.”

7. Reorient your political map

The bellicose, blasphemous language of Trump will meet the practical reality of governing. When you’re out of power, it’s easy to unify — but their coalition’s cracks will quickly emerge. We have to stay sharp for opportunities to cleave off support.

How we position ourselves matters: Are we interested in engaging with people unhappy with the regime — whether because they love the current institutions or are unhappy with Trump’s policies on them? Are we able to tell a story that explains how we got here — and do political education? Or are we only interested in maintaining ideological purity and preaching to our own choir?

8. Get real about power

It will be helpful to have a power analysis in our minds, specifically that’s known as the upside-down triangle. This tool was built to explain how power moves even under dictatorships. 

The upside down triangle. (What If Trump Wins/Elizabeth Beier)

The central tenet is that like an upside-down triangle, power can be unstable. It naturally topples over without anything supporting it. To prevent that, power relies on pillars of support to keep it upright.

Removing one pillar of support can often gain major, life-saving concessions. In response to Trump’s 2019 government shutdown, flight attendants prepared a national strike. Such a strike would ground planes across the country and a key transportation network. Within hours of announcing they were “mobilizing immediately” for a strike, Trump capitulated.

9. Handle fear, make violence rebound

Handling fear isn’t about suppressing it — but it is about constantly redirecting. One activist described to me two motions in the universe: shrinking or expansion. When Donald Trump directs the Justice Department to use sedition charges against protesters or arrest his political enemies like Jamie Raskin or Liz Cheney, what’s our response?

Activist/intellectual Hardy Merriman released a studied response about political violence that had some news that surprised me. The first was that physical political violence hasn’t grown dramatically in this country — it still remains relatively rare. The threats of violence, however, trend upwards, such as this CNN report: “Politically motivated threats to public officials increased 178 percent during Trump’s presidency,” primarily from the right.

His conclusion wasn’t that political violence isn’t going to grow. Quite the opposite. But he noted that a key component to political violence is to intimidate and tell a story that they are the true victims. Making political violence rebound requires refusing to be intimidated and resisting those threats so they can backfire. (Training on this backfire technique is available from the HOPE-PV guide.)

10. Envision a positive future

I don’t feel certain, and I’m not predicting we win. But we’ve all now imagined storylines about how bad it might get. We would do ourselves a service to spend an equal measure of time envisioning how we might advance our cause in these conditions. As writer Walidah Imarisha says, “The goal of visionary fiction is to change the world.”

Spend some time envisioning how we might advance our cause. (What If Trump Wins/Elizabeth Beier)

Grieve AND organize.

Good article by David Hunter on how to survive the Trump presidency, both on the personal and on the political plane.

[f1tales]

i beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker - mv1

that's that me espresso || part five

previous part || next part

pairing: max verstappen x ofc!piastri

summary: oscar’s older sister is a singer, who’s taylor swift’s opening act for the eras tour. she goes to a few races on her break. she meets max; who thinks about her every night now. much to oscar’s annoyance.

author's note: it's very dialogue heavy towards the end, but it's a videocall and idk how to write that any differently. i also don't really know where i'm going with this whole fic, but i'm having fun writing it. it's like a little break from other fics i'm working on. more serious ones, maybe? idk. hope you enoy x

face claim: sabrina carpenter

Ivy hurriedly got out of the car. She rushed towards Max, who was still standing in front of the building with his arms crossed over his chest. The expression on his face was hard to read.

"Max," Ivy breathed out in front of him. She tried to smile, but her face trembled as she stood in front of him.

The media had really put her through it with her relationships before. But she never cared before. She wouldn't let the media ruin what she was trying to build with Max. She couldn't let them do that.

"I know how cliché this sounds, but it's really not what it looks like!"

Max frowned as he looked from Ivy to Daniel. Daniel was standing just a few meters away from them, by the side of his car. Ready to jump in the car and speed off should the situation demand it.

"Can you please look at me?" Ivy grabbed Max's hands. She smiled, "I came to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised," he muttered.

Ivy looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Be like that. Don't hear me out then. Trust me, I have no problem getting back in Daniel's car and have him drive me straight back to Nice airport."

Ivy saw the way Max visibly deflated at those words. His arms dropped from the cross over his chest to the side of his body. He nodded, silently telling Ivy to continue. She looked around, they were still outside.

"First, we're going back to yours."

She turned on her heel to grab her suitcase from Daniel. She gave him a hug and thanked him for picking her up from the airport. She wheeled the suitcase behind her and dropped it in Max's hands before strutting towards his car.

Daniel laughed at the whole ordeal. It was a funny sight: Ivy, standing with her arms crossed next to the passenger side of Max's car and Max fumbling with his car keys to open the booth. Daniel waved at the pair when they finally drove off.

They drove in silence to Max's flat. They also rode the lift up in silence. Max opened the door for her, watching as she walked in. He trailed behind with her suitcase in hand.

Ivy sat down on the couch and patted the space next to her. She waited for Max to sit down next to her before she turned her body towards him.

"I don't know what you saw online, but I didn't fly all the way from Australia for you to just jump to conclusions about me and Daniel. I thought you knew me better than that. And if not me, at least Daniel."

Max stayed quiet as he looked down at his feet. She was right. He knew she was right. Yet, when he had seen those pictures online of Daniel and Ivy he couldn't help but jump to conclusions.

He released a long breath before looking at the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, "I'm sorry. I got so insecure when I saw you with Daniel. I know he's a lot better looking than I am and-,"

Before he knew it, Ivy had wrapped her arms around him. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek with a smile on her face.

"Don't ever say that again, okay?" Ivy firmly shook her head. "It's you I want. Not Daniel, okay?"

Max nodded, "okay."

Ivy grinned, "now, I've come to meet your fur children. Where are they?"

The Dutchman laughed as he stood up. He motioned for Ivy to follow him so he could introduce her to his cats.

Later that evening, Ivy was sitting on Max's couch. She had just showered and had changed into one of his hoodies. One she'd been wearing she he tactically left it for her at Daniel's farm weeks ago. Max was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of them.

She had her phone in her hand, Oscar's face filling the screen. "It was just a misunderstanding."

Oscar didn't seem convinced on the other end of the line, "you sure? I can ditch the MTC now and be there in three hours to kick his arse."

The older Piastri sibling rolled her eyes, "I'm older than you, remember? I think if anything, I should look after you."

It was now Oscar's turn to roll his eyes, "I'm always going to look after you. Especially after you know."

"I know."

Ivy gasped when she felt something jump up on the couch next to her. She turned her head to find one of Max's cats curling up to the side of her. She smiled as she started stroking the cat. She turned back to Oscar.

"Where are you going?"

Oscar looked rather smart for a quiet night in. Ivy watched him rummage around in his apartment. He appeared back in the screen, "just dinner with Lando," he mumbled as he put his watch on.

The singer grinned, "why you all dressed up for dinner with Lando?"

"Please, Vee," he groaned, "we're friends. And it's a fancy restaurant."

"Hm, the blush on your face says something different. And I've seen the heart eyes you make at him. The whole internet has."

Oscar cleared his throat, "right I think you of all people should know not to believe the internet." He looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "Anyway, I'm leaving now."

Ivy heard footsteps approaching, which must mean Max finished cooking. "Okay, love you. Say hi to Lily and Lando for me." She laughed as Oscar groaned again.

"Okay, bye. Love you."

Max sat down on the couch with Ivy. He handed her a bowl of pasta, keepig one for himself. "What was that about?"

The singer shook her head with a smile on her face, "I'll explain at some point." They ate in silence for a while with the TV playing in the background, the Dutch version of First Dates playing. Ivy turned to Max, "can I show you a song I wrote after dinner?"

The driver's eyes widened, "of course! I'd be honoured."

Ivy grinned, "it's called Espresso."

part six coming soon

taglist: @mastermindbaby @charlesgirl16 @a-beaverhausen @shelbyteller @anilovessadbooks

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] epilogue

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, FWB to QPR

ch. summary: together you make a new start.

wc: 2.6k

ch. warnings: no explicit content but there is some conversation about sex, i teared up while writing this; does that count as a warning?

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: what a fucking time we live in. take good care ♡

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, epilogue

“I think these are the last ones,” Wooyoung says, patting the stack of boxes next to him. “Did we get everything from your side?”

“Yeah, we emptied that out yesterday,” you say. “This… this is it.”

San hums thoughtfully, putting an arm around each of you. “End of an era isn’t it?”

The three of you stand by the doorway to the living area, looking over an empty, forlorn apartment.

Depressingly bare walls, furniture replaced by nostalgia. It doesn’t even look like anyone ever stayed here at all. The only concrete proof of your life here is the kitchen cabinet’s crooked door, busted when San hit his head so hard you’d worried he fractured his skull.

Even now, face to face with the empty room, it feels surreal to leave it all behind. No more paper-thin walls, no clumsily bumping into each other in the cramped kitchenette, no more sneaking through the building’s hallway in the early mornings or late nights.

Suddenly every small inconvenience is filtered through the rose-coloured lens of sentimentality, like they’re something to be treasured. Maybe they are. The little imperfections that brought texture to the flavourful sweetness of everything good.

All three of you take a moment, keenly aware you’re saying goodbye to the space where you collided into them; collided, and then intertwined. There’s a lot here to be grateful for.

Wooyoung is the one to break the spell. He nods his head with a big sigh, like he's bracing himself. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, matching his sigh. “Just one more thing left to do here, right?”

San and Wooyoung divide the boxes between them; you are already holding a large flower bouquet. It’s time for your final goodbye in this building.

Together, you take the elevator down one floor, then walk over to the apartment placed directly underneath yours. You ring the doorbell, and it does not take long before Mrs Yoon opens the door.

“Oh? Oh! It’s you kids!” The crinkles in her face deepen into a wide smile, and she curiously eyes the boxes. “Today is the big day then, hm?”

San bows his head politely. “We’re officially moved out, yes,” he says, a tinge of red across his cheeks. “Um. Sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused.”

“Nonsense,” she scolds. “No trouble at all, I’m sad to see you go. It’ll be so quiet around here without you!”

The redness on San’s face intensifies but Wooyoung just giggles, immune to Mrs Yoon’s light teasing. “Still, we didn’t want to go without getting you a little something,” Wooyoung says, “a thank you for putting up with us!”

“Ahh, Wooyoungie, you shouldn’t have!” Mrs Yoon coos adoringly over him like he’s her favourite grandson, lovingly pinching his cheeks. She lets out a small gasp of surprise when you hand the flowers over to her. “These are for me? Really?”

“Really,” you say. “It’s the least we could do!”

The bouquet looks comically huge in her tiny arms, almost drowning her in camellias and hydrangeas; but Mrs Yoon just beams with delight, taking a deep whiff of the sweet aromas. Even with the flowers, she still manages to reach for your cheek, patting it in gratitude.

“Wishing you and your friends all the best in your new home, sweetie,” she says warmly. “Feel free to drop by if you’re ever back in the neighbourhood.”

“We will, Mrs Yoon,” you promise, a pleasant glow in your chest at the word ‘friends’. “Thank you for looking out for us.”

The three of you part ways with Mrs Yoon, regretfully declining an invitation to come inside for a cup of tea. Your new home waits for you.

The new apartment is not too far from the old place, just a short ride away. Wooyoung is driving the car that Yunho was gracious enough to lend you, and you’re next to him in the front seat, his hand resting casually on your thigh. San is behind you, leaned forward with his chin on the backrest while he sweetly hums along to some romantic pop-song on the radio.

You bask in the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the window, smiling at San’s smooth voice while your hand rests on top of Wooyoung’s. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. Outside the car, your surroundings slowly grow less and less familiar, though you know that’ll come with time. You look forward to it.

Finally you reach the compex’s underground parking lot where Wooyoung neatly parks Yunho’s car. You unload the boxes, and find the elevators after a brief moment of disorientation.

You’re not on the top floor this time, but this building is taller so you’re still up higher than before. Finally you exit the elevator, and nostalgia is pushed back in favour of excitement as you walk over to your front door. One single door, for all three of you.

(Of course, you practically lived together already anyway, but it still feels different like this. More solid. Words and promises of long-term commitment transformed into tangible fact.)

You type in the freshly memorised code into the keypad, and the door opens.

The apartment is bigger and nicer than your old place; it’d be far too expensive for you alone, but that’s the practical benefit of splitting rent three ways. It’s still a mess, of course, unpacked boxes all over the place, but already you can see glimpses what it’s going to be, the home you’ll make out of this cluttered chaos.

Already there’s a small bustle of friends moving around the place, helping you to settle in. Even Hongjoong took time off, standing in the (significantly larger) kitchenette with a puzzled expression as he goes through one of the boxes.

You make a beeline towards him, and Hongjoong grins as you approach, making a show of groaning in annoyance when you lay a bear-hug on him.

“What kind of highbrow culinary types did you move in with? I don’t even know what half of these are,” he sighs, toying with a basic garlic press as he glances at the wide array of appliances strewn on the kitchen island. “Makes me feel like I’m not adulting right.”

“It’s alright, not all of us can be kitchen princesses. That’s Wooyoung’s purview,” you joke.

Hongjoong snorts. “Is that your way of saying you also don’t know what half of these are?”

“Pff, don’t lump me in with you. I know at least three quarters of them.”

“Wow, impressive! Let me know when you earn your first Michelin Star.”

He grins when you playfully elbow him in the side, and together you unpack the rest of the box, enjoying the bustle of activity around you.

A few people are walking back and forth, sorting out boxes and putting them in the right place. Seonghwa and Yeosang have taken up most of the floorspace to assemble a large bookcase, looking somewhat bamboozled by the instructions. San is setting out Byeol’s things already, even though she’ll stay at his sister’s as a guest until you’re all settled in.

He wrestles with putting her climbing tree back together when a sudden flash of light distracts him; Wooyoung has grabbed his camera. To do a little documenting of the event, he claims.

“Wooyoung-ssi,” Yeosang says pointedly, “aren’t you just avoiding having to do any real work?”

“Come on, it’s important to save some memories of today!” Wooyoung says enthusiastically, utterly undeterred by his oldest friend’s scepticism. Instead he snaps a quick shot of Yeosang instead, who instantly shields his face. This only escalates into Wooyoung trying to take a selfie with Yeosang, which escalates into him trying to land a smooch on Yeosang’s cheek.

You watch their shenanigans with a wide, bright smile, and Hongjoong watches you with a thoughtful expression in turn.

“So…” he says in a slow drawl. “What was that you once told me? That you got nothing ‘involved’ going on with these guys?”

Heat flares up on your face. “Shut up,” you mumble, embarrassed at the reminder of how deeply in denial you used to be. Let’s face it; San and Wooyoung had firmly pulled you into their orbit from the very start.

Hongjoong chuckles and pats your shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you were right about the most important thing.”

You give him a confused look. “?”

His eyes soften, a crooked smile on his face. “That I didn’t have to worry about you.”

You swallow thickly, a sudden lump in your throat at his sincerity. “Yeah? Well don’t think that means you’re off the hook for our irregularly scheduled videocalls,” you joke awkwardly, prodding him in the side again. “It’s not like the guys replaced you or something. I still want my bestie too.”

“Good!” he chuckles. “Anyway, they couldn’t if they tried. I’m pretty irreplaceable.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you laugh, whapping him on the shoulder.

You try to continue unpacking the kitchen supplies; but you soon get distracted when Yunho struggles to carry a gigantic potted plant, and you realise he’s about to set it down in the living area.

“Yunho wait, hang on! That goes outside!”

You abandon Hongjoong to guide Yunho out to the modestly sized balcony.

“Here, here,” you usher him to a corner, where the plant will provide some nice shade and privacy.

Yunho sighs in relief when he can set the heavy pot down, stretching his back with a low groan as he stands upright again. He looks around curiously, looking around the balcony. It’s not much, with just some old garden furniture that Wooyoung’s parents ‘donated’ to you, but the plant makes a good start to cosy it up properly.

“Huh. Hadn’t been out here yet,” he says, putting his hands on the metal railing to lean forward and take in the view. “It’s nice.”

Your eyes get momentarily distracted by how his long fingers curl around the handrail, but then you tear your gaze away and look out over the neighbourhood together. It’s mostly other apartment complexes, but there’s a big park with plenty of greenery and a pond nearby too, next to a busy kids’ playground.

“Yeah,” you agree with a wistful smile. “Really nice.”

You glance at Yunho again. All the initial awkwardness between you has faded by now; San, Wooyoung and him were eager to make up for lost time, so he’s been around quite a bit. You don’t mind. You like Yunho.

(Not just because he has distracting hands. He’s every bit as funny and dependable as your first impression led you to believe. It didn’t take long for you to grow just as fond of Yunho as the guys are.)

“And if you think about it, I got you to thank for it all!” you joke, grinning at Yunho. “Really, if you hadn’t played cupid, I wouldn’t have ended up here.”

Yunho blinks in confusion. “Cupid?”

“Yeah? You set San and Wooyoung up, right? San told me you played matchmaker.”

“……Huh. That is what San thinks I was doing?” He lets out an awkward, breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.

“You weren’t?” You frown at Yunho. “But you introduced them, right?”

“Y-Yeah, but— Never mind,” he says, his ears going red. “It’s not important.”

You give him a stubborn look. “Um. No. No, you can’t leave me hanging there. What’s not important?”

Yunho sees the look in your eyes, and after a long moment he gives a slow nod and straightens up. He glances at the open balcony door, but nobody inside is paying you any particular mind.

He leans forward, conspiratorially, dropping his voice low. The secrecy is causing your heart to bump faster in your chest; what the hell happened?

“Okay so, uh. No, I didn’t set them up,” Yunho says. “Sure, I’m really happy that it worked out so well for them, but… no, I just meant to test the waters for a bit, to see if things clicked between us, and then… I could see if they were interest in doing… other stuff together.”

“Stuff?” you ask — but the redness of Yunho’s ears deepens, and a lightbulb turns on in your head. “Wait,” you hiss, lowering your own voice as you lean even closer to him. “You introduced them to have a threesome? And they started dating instead??”

“Basically, yeah!” he chuckles awkwardly. “And really, it’s no big deal, I’m happy to see my friends happy. I saw the way they hit it off, figured I’d give them some space to figure things out. Thought I could always pitch the idea later — well, until Wooyoung told me San wanted to be monogamous.”

“Oh god,” you say, growing more and more aghast as your brain works overtime, linking up all the dots Yunho is throwing at you. “And then San asked you for advice about me.”

“Yeah, I’ll admit it — that one stung!” he laughs, about five percent pained. The last lingering hints of a grudge still holding on.

“I bet it did, fuck I’m so sorry—”

“Not your fault,” Yunho says, patting your shoulder with a reassuring smile.

You puff out a flustered burst of air, and shake off your embarrassment. Yeah, he’s right. This isn’t your fault. “…Is it weird that I’m kind of offended on your behalf?” you say with an awkward grin (god this is all so awkward). “Like, I know San and Wooyoung can be a bit oblivious, especially when they get stuck in each other’s little lovestruck tunnel vision, but seriously? They never realised??”

“Eh,” Yunho shrugs. “It’s on me too, I misjudged. Clearly shouldn’t have taken the subtle approach.”

You snort. “Okay yeah, maybe it’s a little on you too. The subtle approach? For those two?”

“Hey! Whatcha talking about?” San says out of nowhere, poking his head around the doorway like a devil who has belatedly realised someone spoke of him. “Thought I heard my name!”

You freeze instantly and fumble for an answer. “Uuhhhhhhh…”

Wooyoung’s head pokes out from behind San’s broad shoulders. “Hm? Are you guys gossiping about us?”

“Umm…………”

But Yunho just lets out a dry chuckle, unfazed by the interruption. “Yeah, actually,” he says with an easygoing smile. “I was just telling her that I never meant to play matchmaker for you two.”

“You weren’t?” San asks in surprise. “I thought…”

“I know,” Yunho interrupts him, not unkindly. “But no, I was trying to set us for a threesome.”

A deep, deep silence falls that strikes even Wooyoung.

He’s just staring at Yunho wide-eyed, the gears in his head ground to a complete halt. San has gone full crimson in the cheeks, putting Yunho’s faintly red ears to shame.

“What?” Yunho laughs when he sees your surprised face. “You said it yourself; no room for subtlety with these two. It was bound to come out sometime anyway. No time like the present.”

“You know what? Fair,” you say, relaxing back into a laugh of your own.

“W-wait, you what??” San finally stammers out.

Yunho casually leans his side against the balcony railing, shrugging at San. “Is it really that big a surprise, coming from me?”

Wooyoung’s shock has slowly morphed into a thoughtful expression as the gears in his head come back into motion. Keen interest shines in his eyes as he looks back-and-forth from San’s flustered blush to you and Yunho, grinning at each other.

“So uh,” Wooyoung says, mischief creeping into the curve of his crooked smile, “…is having sex together still on the table?”

final notes: yes, i am planning to do a one-shot sequel lol. you are getting that yunwoosan foursome smut scene <3 originally it was part of the epilogue, but i decided it works better as its own, separate thing

but this still is the end of the main series, the story of Woosan & reader coming together, and i am a big ball of emotion over it asdkjdsajk. thankyou for reading my fic, and for all the incredibly kind words i’ve received; this was a very special, personal project to me, and i hope it gave you some good times ♡

[shisabun]

Before I start, I just want to say thank you to the husbands, brothers, and fathers who voted to support their daughters, sisters, and wives. What I'm about to say doesn't include you.

To the women who voted for Trump, you are a disgrace. Thanks to you, your children and grandchildren will be forced to fight the war that was won by your grandmothers.

You sit content and joyful while others mourn. You laugh in the face of their fears when there's a knife floating above your head poised to fall. You have no idea what's coming, but any woman with half a braincell does.

Let me tell you a story. My great aunt was basically my grandmother. She was born in the 1930s in Spain. Right after their revolution. Right after Spain became a dictatorship. She told me so many stories in her final years that I'll keep with me for the rest of my life. But I'll give one example.

One of her closest friends married young. Her husband claimed she was unfaithful and literally beat her to death. He was never arrested. He was never convinced. He walked away free and remarried in less than a month. Catholicism wouldn't allow divorce back then. He wanted to get remarried and simply got away with it because he was a cop. Franco gave cops full impunity. So does Project 2025.

I know some people reading this are rolling their eyes, and you know what?

Fuck. You. You are trash.

That girl was murdered at 20, and her killer walked free after openingly admitting it. My Tia never told me her name, but she carried her in her heart until the day she died at 98. And so do I.

To my fellow women who are mourning and scared right now, I'll give you the same advice my mother gave me. "Have your cry. Then get up and get things done. You're strong enough not to have this break you."

You are Mary and Esther. You are Caterina Sforza. You are Princess Diana. You are Anna May Wong. You are the living legacy of every woman who has come before you. You carry their strength, their courage, and their determination.

This shit is going to suck. Pure and simple. But we'll do what we've always done. We'll bite and claw our way to a better future. We'll tear down every obstacle so our children and grandchildren will have an easier path to walk.

We are dragons in human form. Steel your heart and give them nothing. Do not give them your affection, your care, or your bodies. Fuck being demure and mindful. When they spew hate, you spit fire. When they ask for your smile, you give them your fangs. Become a walking inferno that they have no choice but to take note of. Do not yield.

You are powerful, and you are not alone. You are a sister in a coven that is millions strong. You are the daughters of the witches they couldn't burn.

To my fellow Millennials. I know you're tired. Our young adult lives were stolen from us, and we've been struggling uphill ever since. But do what the previous generation never did for us. Fight. Fight for the ones that are entering adulthood. Fight for the children who have no idea what they're about to grow into.

They called us snowflakes for pointing out their flaws. Fine. Let's give them a fucking blizzard. If they try to build momentum, we stop them. We are at the age where we need to be both shield and anchor. Let. Nothing. Pass.

We're about to face an orange shitstorm of epic proportions. But we'll do as we've always done. We fight, we endure, and we win. In the words of Samwise Gamgee, "There's good in this world, and it's worth fighting for."

[cupidhoons]

🛋️ SAY IT — PSH

in which . . . communication comes into play when in need — psh x f! reader ୨୧ est relationship! au wc tba ・ w kissing, light angst, sunghoon is bad at saying his feelings, lowk projected on sunghoon lmao + likes n' feedback are greatly appreciated !

A/N 💌 i know this is my 3rd sunghoon work on this account but idc!! sunghoon is my man 😂😂😂😂😛😛😛🔥🔥🔥 cupidhoons nation is so back....i Fink....also thank you for all the love on my jake work!! luv u all :)

"IF YOU LOVE ME, BABY, LET ME HEAR YOU SAY IT."

The words escape your lips before you can stop them, and for a moment, you want to reach out, to catch them in the air, to take them back. But it’s too late now. They hang between you and Sunghoon in the dimly lit living room, where the shadows deepen the silence around you.

The night feels quiet, too quiet, as if it’s holding its breath with you. Outside, a car hums softly in the distance, and the faint scent of rain lingers in the air from a quick drizzle earlier in the evening. Everything feels heavy—especially the silence between you and him.

Sunghoon shifts on the other side of the couch, his posture stiff as he looks away from you. You can’t read his expression from here, but his hands fidget with the cuff of his sweater. He’s always been composed, cool, almost unbothered. But now, you catch the briefest hint of vulnerability breaking through.

You hug your knees to your chest, wishing you hadn’t said anything, wishing the words hadn’t escaped so easily. But it’s been building up for a while now. Each little unspoken moment, every lingering look, all the times he showed up when you needed him without you even asking. It’s like he’s always there—but you’ve never heard him say it, never heard the words that would solidify what you’ve both been dancing around.

“Maybe that was too much,” you murmur, trying to ease the tension, though your heart sinks a little at the admission. “I know you’re not the most… vocal.”

He glances at you, his jaw tight, and you wonder if he’s angry or frustrated or maybe just as unsure as you are. It’s so rare to see him falter that it almost makes you feel worse. His confidence, the easygoing nature he wears like armor, seems to crumble, just a bit.

“It’s not too much,” he says finally, voice low but steady. “It’s just… new.”

He looks down at his hands, his fingers still pulling at the edges of his sleeve. You watch the small movement, that simple fidget, and it feels like you’re seeing a version of Sunghoon he doesn’t often show. Your heart aches, but there’s a warmth there too, a small reassurance that maybe this means something to him too.

“New doesn’t mean bad,” you whisper, taking a chance as you edge a little closer to him on the couch. “We’ve been… whatever this is, for a while now. I just thought…” You trail off, not quite able to finish the thought, afraid of pushing him too far.

He looks up at you, and for a moment, there’s a softness in his eyes, a gentleness that feels almost overwhelming. “I’m not used to saying those kinds of things,” he admits, his voice a little softer now, a little more open. “Not because I don’t feel them, but because I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing. That maybe… it won’t be enough.”

You realize he’s always been someone who expresses himself in other ways—through the small gestures, like remembering to bring your favorite drink, or giving you his jacket without a word when you shiver, or even just sitting with you in comfortable silence when words feel too heavy.

Your hand reaches out, hesitantly, and gently rests on top of his. You feel the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, his fingers stilling as they instinctively relax under your hand. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Sunghoon. I just want to know that it’s real.”

His gaze shifts to your hand on his, his fingers turning slowly to intertwine with yours. The movement is slow, almost careful, like he’s testing out the weight of the feeling. He doesn’t let go.

“I don’t know how to say it the way you might want to hear it,” he says, finally meeting your eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. “But… when I’m with you, it feels like everything makes sense. Like I don’t have to try to be someone else, because you see me as I am. And that… that matters to me.”

Your breath catches. It’s not a declaration of love, not in the way you might have imagined, but somehow it feels even more real, like he’s opening up a piece of himself he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

He shifts closer, his hand still holding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles with a tenderness that makes your heart race. “I care about you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with quiet sincerity. “More than I thought I ever could.”

The room feels warmer, like everything is slowing down, grounding you in this moment with him. And for the first time, you realize that his silence, his hesitations, aren’t because he doesn’t care—but because he cares so much, he doesn’t want to risk saying something that might hurt you.

You smile softly, squeezing his hand in return. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, a rare, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. He leans a little closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your face. You feel your heart race, the warmth of his touch grounding you as he leans in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to your forehead. It’s gentle, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment, but there’s a tenderness there that says more than words ever could.

When he pulls back, his gaze lingers on you, his eyes filled with a quiet promise.

“Just… be patient with me,” he whispers. “I might not say it often, but… I’ll show you. In all the ways I can.”

You nod, your heart feeling lighter than it has in days, maybe even weeks. Because now you understand—you don’t need grand gestures or perfect words. You just need him, here with you, in these little moments, his hand in yours and his quiet, steady presence filling up all the empty spaces in your heart.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

[ha-rinrin]

Hiding From The World

Summary: After a meeting with Silco, Jinx goes missing, leaving you to go find her.

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader

Wordcount: 1k

Authors note: The long ass story is still not finished im so sorry guys im gonna try to publish it as soon as I can 🤞🏻. I also did this at 2am, sorry if its bad I literally fell asleep in the middle of writing it.

Masterlist

It's been hours since you last saw her. Jinx was supposed to come back to the hideout after a supposedly urgent meeting with Silco, but the minutes dragged on, turning into hours, and still no sign of her. You tried to convince yourself she was just blowing off steam somewhere, but you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in your gut.

Without a second thought, you head to the one place she might be. It’s a little secret basement in an abandoned building tucked away in the darker parts of Zaun, somewhere she figured no one would ever think to look, when you and Jinx first stumbled on this little abandoned building while exploring Zaun’s hidden alleys. The structure was half-buried under layers of graffiti and rust, but Jinx saw it as treasure—something forgotten by everyone else but perfect for the two of you. Together, you’d set up this place over the months, stringing fairy lights from the cracked ceiling, stacking old crates to make makeshift chairs, and even securing it with a series of hidden traps to keep intruders out.

The shadows stretch longer as you approach the building, slipping past the creaky metal door and down the stairs that lead to the basement. You disable the traps one by one, the steps so familiar you could do them in your sleep. Finally, you reach the heavy door that leads into the basement, taking a breath before pushing it open.

And there she is.

Jinx is slouched on the floor, leaning against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes flicker with a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and you catch the way her hands keep fidgeting, as if even while sitting still, she can't quite find peace. She looks up when you enter, and something in her expression softens ever so slightly.

"Y/N," she mutters, sounding almost relieved. "Guess I’m not as good at hiding as I thought, huh?"

You close the door behind you, crossing the dimly lit room until you’re in front of her. “Not from me, anyway.”

She scoffs, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. You slide down to sit beside her, close enough that your shoulders are almost touching. For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence is comfortable, settling like a blanket around you both.

You glance over, studying her for a beat. “Rough day?”

She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling. “Silco thinks he knows everything. Says I’m too… reckless, like he doesn’t know me by now.” Her fingers toy with a stray thread on her pants, pulling at it absently. “Sometimes I think he just doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get me.”

You nod, listening to every word. “Sometimes I don’t think he deserves to.”

Jinx looks over at you, that fire in her eyes simmering down, replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable. She doesn’t say anything right away, but her hand inches toward yours, her fingers grazing your palm as if she’s testing the waters.

You intertwine your fingers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “We don’t need him, you know,” you murmur. “We’ve got this place. It’s ours. Away from everyone else.”

She leans her head back, gazing around at the dim room, where the fairy lights cast soft, warm glows over the walls. It’s far from fancy, but it feels like home, like yours. The two of you worked to make it that way—a sanctuary in the chaos.

Her gaze drifts back to you, a small, genuine smile breaking through her tough exterior. “Guess that’s why I wanted to come here… I knew you’d find me.”

“Always,” you say softly, brushing a thumb over her knuckles.

For a while, you sit in comfortable silence, her head eventually finding its way to your shoulder. The weight of her against you feels reassuring, grounding, like the world outside doesn’t matter when it’s just the two of you in this little hidden corner of Zaun.

“You know,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, “this place… I’d never let anyone else in here but you.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you turn slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else.”

She smiles again, her eyes half-closed as she leans into you. In this moment, with the flickering lights casting shadows across the room and the muffled sounds of Zaun fading in the background, you both find a rare, quiet peace.

Jinx’s head grows heavier on your shoulder, her breathing slowing, steadying. You glance down to find her eyes closed, the furrow in her brow smoothed out. It’s rare to see her like this—unguarded, peaceful, away from the chaos that usually surrounds her.

Carefully, you shift, wrapping an arm around her to support her as you slowly stand up. She stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake, her head resting comfortably against your shoulder as you carry her over to the old, beaten-up couch you both dragged in here ages ago. Easing yourself down, you settle back with Jinx still in your arms, her body now draped across yours.

She mumbles something incoherent as she nestles closer, pressing her face against your chest. One of her arms wraps around you, clutching the fabric of your shirt as if you’re an anchor keeping her steady.

You can’t help but smile, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. She looks so serene, her usual smirk softened, her breathing deep and calm. Gently, you stroke her back, your fingers tracing light, soothing circles as she relaxes even further against you.

The warmth of her settles into you, a quiet comfort that makes the dim room feel like it’s lit up with something more than just fairy lights. Holding her like this, feeling her heartbeat thrum in sync with yours, it’s like all the weight of the world fades away.

As minutes slip by, you let your head rest back against the couch, one arm wrapped securely around her while your other hand continues to run softly up and down her back. You could stay like this forever, hidden away with her, in a place that’s just for the two of you.

In this little pocket of the world, it’s just you and her, and for now, that’s all you need.

[onlycosmere]

“He kept on the proper face all the way to his rooms, and was proud of himself for it. Then he stepped inside and found an empty nothingness. His were the quarters of a highlord, supposedly luxurious and spacious. He had little furniture though, and that left it feeling hollow. Dark, the sole light coming from the balcony. Every honor he’d been given seemed to highlight how vacant his life really was. Titles couldn’t fill a room with life.

Still, he turned and closed the door with a firm push. Only then did he break. He didn’t make it to the chair. He sank down with his back to the wall beside the door. He tried to unbutton his coat, but ended up bending forward with his knuckles pressing his forehead, digging into his skin as he hyperventilated, gasping in deep breaths of air while he trembled and shook.

Exhaustionspren like jets of dust gleefully congregated around him. And agonyspren, like upside-down faces carved from stone, twisted and faded in and out. He couldn’t cry. Nothing came out. He wanted to cry, because at least that would be a release. Instead he huddled, knuckles pressing against the scars in his forehead, wishing he could shrivel away. Like the eyes of a person struck by a Shardblade.

In moments like this—alone and huddled on the floor of a dark room, tormented by agonyspren—Moash’s words found him. The truth of them became undeniable. Out in the garish sunlight, it was easy to pretend that everything was all right. In here, Kaladin could see clearly.

You’re just going to keep hurting.…

His entire life had been a futile effort to stop a storm by yelling at it. The storm didn’t care.

They’re all going to die. There’s nothing you can do about it.

You could never build anything that lasted, so why try? Everything decayed and fell apart. Nothing was permanent. Not even love.

Only one way out …

A knock came at his door. Kaladin ignored the sound until it became insistent. Storms. They were going to barge in, weren’t they? Suddenly panicked that anyone should find him like this, Kaladin stood up and straightened his coat. He took a deep breath, and the agonyspren faded.

Adolin pushed his way in, a treasonous Syl on his shoulder. That was where she had gone? To fetch Adolin storming Kholin?

The young man wore a uniform of Kholin blue, but not a regulation one. He’d taken to having embellishments added, regardless of what his father thought. While it was sturdy—a little stiff, starched to maintain neat lines—its sleeves were embroidered to match his boots. The cut left the coat longer than most—a bit like Kaladin’s own captain’s coat, but more trendy.

Somehow Adolin wore the uniform, when the uniform had always worn Kaladin. To Kaladin, the uniform was a tool. To Adolin it was a part of an ensemble. How did he get his hair—blond, peppered black—so perfectly messy? It was both casual and deliberate at the same time.

He was smiling, of course. Storming man.

“You are here!” Adolin said. “Rock said he thought you were heading for your room.”

“Because I wanted to be alone,” Kaladin said.

“You spend too many evenings alone, bridgeboy,” Adolin said, glancing at the nearby exhaustionspren, then grabbing Kaladin by the arm—something few other people would have dared.

“I like being by myself,” Kaladin said.

“Great. Sounds awful. Today, you’re coming with me. No more excuses. I let you blow me away last week and the week before.”

“Maybe,” Kaladin snapped, “I just don’t want to be around you, Adolin.”

The highprince hesitated, then leaned forward, narrowing his eyes and putting his face up close to Kaladin’s. Syl still sat on Adolin’s shoulder, her arms folded—without even the decency to look ashamed when Kaladin glared at her.

“Tell me honestly,” Adolin said. “With an oath, Kaladin. Tell me that you should be left alone tonight. Swear it to me.”

Adolin held his gaze. Kaladin tried to form the words, and felt of the ten fools when he couldn’t get them out.

He definitely shouldn’t be alone right now.

“Storm you,” Kaladin said.

“Ha,” Adolin said, tugging him by the arm. “Come on, Brightlord Master Highmarshal Stormface. Change your coat to one that doesn’t smell like smoke, then come with me. You don’t have to smile. You don’t have to talk. But if you’re going to be miserable, you might as well do it with friends.”

Kaladin extracted his arm from Adolin’s grip, but didn’t resist further. He grabbed new clothes—tossing aside the ones he’d been fighting in.

He did, however, shoot Syl another glare as she flew over to him. “Adolin?” Kaladin said as he changed. “Your first thought was to get Adolin?”

“I needed someone you couldn’t intimidate,” she replied. “That list at best includes three people. And the queen was likely to transform you into a crystal goblet or something.”

Kaladin sighed and walked out to join Adolin, lest the highprince think he was dallying. Syl eyed Kaladin as she walked in the air alongside him, keeping up with him despite her dainty steps.

“Thank you,” Kaladin said softly, turning his eyes forward.”

- Rhythm of War

[demonvampire180writes]

Walk With Me - BuckTommy Fic Prompt

This is me trying not to break down over today's election results.

Prompt from @aplaceinme (If you don't want to be tagged please, let me know.)

"a beautiful autumn day, walking around the park on a cute date??"

Rays of filtered sunlight peek through the curtains in Buck’s loft. Slowly, he blinks his eyes open, squinting at even the low light of the morning. Groaning quietly, he rolls onto his side and drapes his arm over Tommy’s stomach, snuggling deeper into his side. Closing his eyes, he exhales deeply and basks in the warmth of the man he’s coming to love.

Tommy stirs. One of his large hands digs into the curls at the back of Buck’s head, giving gentle scritches as he presses his plush lips against his forehead. “Morning.” His voice is raspy with sleep but so full of love that Buck feels butterflies in his stomach. Lifting his head, he pouts his lips until Tommy pecks them, smirking with a chuckle.

“Morning.” Buck yawns, eyes watering and jaw cracking. Getting up onto his elbows, he stares down at his boyfriend and asks, “Since we’re up early, how does a walk around the park sound? We can grab some coffee or something while we walk.” Leaning down, he places a gentle kiss against Tommy’s chest, along the smattering of slightly greying chest hair that always seems to make him a bit self conscious, but that Buck loves beyond words.

Running a hand through his hair, Tommy hums and grins at him, eyes crinkling with delight. “Sounds great, babe. But… maybe just ten more minutes?” He gives him a lingering kiss before settling back into the pillow, a blissed out look on his face. Buck doesn’t even bother arguing, instead settling back half on top of Tommy, nose buried in the crook of his neck. Tommy pulls the comforter back up around them, snuggling back into its warmth.

Ten minutes turns into thirty, that turns into an hour. Neither of them mind.

When they manage to crawl out of bed, they each don a pair of jeans and a hoodie; Buck totally stole one of Tommy’s, but he doesn’t say anything, instead grinning as he shakes his head, pulling Buck in for a side hug and a kiss to his birthmark.

Buck gathers his keys, his phone, and his wallet as they head out into the relative cool of a California autumn. As they exit the building, Tommy slides his hand into the hoodie pouch and takes Buck’s hand, squeezing it but not trying to extract it, and they walk that way until - laughing as they bump into each other every few steps - they reach the coffee shop three blocks west of the apartment complex. As they dip inside, Tommy places one of his hands at the small of Buck’s back, herding him while also marking his claim. Buck feels so warm. So safe. So loved. So… Possessed. A shiver shoots down his spine and Tommy asks, concerned, “Are you cold? We don’t have to go to the park.”

“No, babe. I’m good.” Buck elbows him gently in the stomach and approaches the cashier, who greets him with a pearly white smile and a hearty ‘good morning!’ Without even needing to confirm it, he’s known it by heart for months, Buck orders both their coffee’s and a muffin to split - chocolate chip, Tommy’s favorite.

They grab their things and go outside to stand at one of the bar tables to eat their breakfast, feeding each other bites between kisses and flirtatious quips. The street is so quiet that Buck feels like he’s in their own little bubble; it’s early enough that the songbirds still serenade the morning sun. An elderly gentleman sits a few tables away at one of the bistro tables, reading an honest to God newspaper that he flips the pages of every so often between sips of coffee. A woman taps away at a laptop at another table, dressed to the flawless 9’s, even though the sun has barely risen. The scent of freshly baked bread and newly brewed coffee carry through the air on the crisp breeze passing by around them.

Buck feels like he’s carved out, and captured, a little piece of heaven this morning.

Tommy returns their empty plate inside and when he returns, he holds out his hand to Buck who links their pinkies without hesitation, letting it swing between them, their coffee’s in their free hands. Tommy quirks an eyebrow at him with his usual deadpan stare and Buck stares back innocently, giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes he can manage. Tommy doesn’t last ten seconds before snorting, lips turning up into a wry smile. “Dork.” He shakes his head and drags Buck in the direction of the park, hanging on with his pinky for dear life.

There’s a pond with a trail a couple of miles long and perfect for a stress free morning warm up. As they enter onto the trail, Buck throws his now empty cup into the trashcan at the mouth and stuffs his now free hand into his pocket to keep warm. Tommy continues to sip at his as they stroll along the paved path, smiling at mom’s and dad’s passing by with their tots in strollers or the runner that zips by, music blasting from their headphones as ponytails swish back and forth and light glints off polarized sunglasses. Couples sprawl out on blankets along the green lawns on either side of the trail or the occasional person with their nose buried in a book, clearly fantasizing about other times and worlds. They watch as elderly men and women sit mostly alone on benches along the shore, staring off into the distance as their arthritic hands grasp onto walking sticks and walkers. Ducks and geese swarm around the bench areas as they’re fed bread that isn’t good for them. Buck grins as he spouts off facts about why you’re not supposed to feed wildlife bread anymore, and Tommy pays rapt attention like he’ll be quizzed on it at the end of the lecture.

They stop at an open bench and sit for a little while, Tommy pulling Buck into his side, allowing him to lay his head against his shoulder. Their silence is so comfortable Buck feels the pull towards sleep and maybe even dozes off for a few minutes, not that Tommy will ever tell him he did. When they decide to get moving again, Buck takes Tommy’s hand fully in his now, loving how Tommy’s hand is large enough that it fully engulfs his own; a feeling that he never thought he’d get to experience. While he absolutely loves women, there was something special about being the smaller one; the one that gets to feel fully encased by a partner's love and warmth.

“Ready to head back?” Tommy asks after one full circuit of the pond. Buck grins at him and leans in for a kiss, humming happily when Tommy gives him exactly what he wants.

“Yeah. Thanks for coming with me this morning.”

Tommy’s nose crinkles as he replies, “Any time, Evan. I love you.”

His heart gives a strong ba-dump as he says, grinning back, “Love you, too, Tommy.” He simply couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, or a better start to his day.

[elizabethsnuts]

I love your stories!!!! Can I request Hotch's toddler daughter absolutely being his mini me in looks but her personality is basically Penelope's lol? And Hotch's daughter always insists in wanting to dress and twin with Aunty Penelope? <3

Aunty Penelope

Aaron Hotcher x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You took a visit to your Aunty Penelope in her office, making sure to twin with her in outfits.

———

You were no doubt your father's daughter, from your looks to the way you talked and even the way you stood. You were his absolute mini-me, but also his polar opposite in the personality department. You were the brightest little cheerful girl, you loved bright colours and fun quirky things. You loved dressing up like your Aunty Penelope, You loved her.

You were sitting in your nursery, watching Aaron rummage around in your closet to try and find some clothes for you to wear for the day. You shook your head for the hundredth time. “Dada… want Aunty ‘nelope clothes!”

Aaron groaned quietly, staring into your closet. “Y/N… sweetheart, your wardrobe is nothing but colour. I’m sure anything in there is considered ‘Aunty Penelope clothes’. She’ll love whatever you have on, baby.”

You copied Aaron’s groan, flopping onto your back and hitting the floor. These were the rare times you were annoyed with everything. You didn’t want to wear a basic purple shirt with a boring flower pattern on it, you wanted something fun like Penelope always did. “Want silly socks!”

Aaron gave a slow, tired nod, putting the shirt back in the wardrobe. “I know you want silly socks, baby. But you also need clothes, alright? We can’t just wear silly socks.”

You sat back up and rubbed your eyes, looking into your wardrobe to finally make a choice. “Pink butterflies…”

Aaron let out a small sigh of relief, taking out the pink dress that was covered in bright-coloured butterflies. “We can do the butterfly dress. Good choice, Aunty Penelope will love it.”

Aaron got you changed into the dress, helping you put on your socks which had a swirly circle design on them, as well as putting cute pink bows in your hair with red Mary Jane’s on your feet. He even added your colourful, fun, matching bracelet and necklace, they really made you feel like your Aunty Penelope.

———

Aaron had to hold onto your hand tightly as they exited the elevator, knowing full well that you’d try and run to Penelope’s office, despite not having the best coordination which often meant you ran into things… or people. Aaron was not about to have a repeat of that in a building filled with FBI agents. “Alright, Y/N, slow down. We have to be respectful okay? People are working.”

You let out a little giggle, cuddling your pink blankie to your chest in excitement as the two of you made your way into the bullpen. “We see Aunty ‘nelope.”

Aaron nodded in confirmation for what felt like the millionth time. He kept his grip gentle but firm, making sure you were about to bolt away to find Penelope. “Yes, sweetheart, we are. We are seeing Aunty Penelope, she’s just in her office.”

Once you reached Penelope’s office, your dad let go of your hand so you could greet her. You ran up to her desk excitedly, your tiny arms open for a hug. “Aunty ‘nelope!! I here!”

Penelope out an exaggerated gasp, leaning down to give you a big hug. “Well if it isn’t my little tech assistant! Lady Y/N!”

You giggled loudly, breaking the hug to give her a little twirl of your outfit. “Looook! I ready!”

Penelope laughed, taking a good look at your outfit. “Oh, I love it! Look at all this colour and the swirly socks! Don’t you look absolutely stunning?”

You nodded looking over Penelope’s outfit. “We matching. We stunning.”

Penelope nodded in agreement, picking you up to sit on her lap. “We absolutely are, we are the only people in this building with good style.”

You gave a firm hum of agreement, playing with Penelope’s little animal rubbers she had on her desk. “Daddy only wear suits. He boring.”

Penelope tried to hold in a snicker, knowing Aaron was right behind her. You could practically feel your dad’s frown from behind you, knowing it all too well. Well of course since you had the same one.

“It ‘kay, Daddy. You be workman.” You smiled reassuringly. You had learned after many attempts at getting your dad to wear some colour on his suits that he needed to be a professional unit chief.

Aaron nodded with a small smile, crossing his arms. “Yes, Daddy needs to work which means you get to stay with Aunty Penelope.” He looked over to Penelope, raising an eyebrow seriously. “Don’t let her see case files.”

Penelope gave Aaron a little salute in response, watching him say goodbye to you and leave her office. “Alright tech assistant, what should we do?”

You grinned and took out your sparkly pen, drawing scribbles on a piece of paper you found on Penelope’s desk. “Drawww. Sparkle. We draw BAU… fine furry friends.”

Penelope laughed, joining in with the colouring. The two of you spent the rest of the day together, making pictures, playing with random things at her desk and so on. You always had a blast with your Aunty Penelope. You may have looked exactly like your dad but you definitely expressed yourself like Penelope.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for @definitelynotaminion behind the cut, who gave me dealer’s choice and is getting “Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this” in return. And also some violence and implied histories of abuse/trauma! 💖 (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Lois Kal-El says something flat-toned but loud, and Kara glances down at the cracked-up floor, tilting her head to study the damage. It is . . . very cracked, yes. She can see all the way through to the core sunstone of the building’s framework through some of them. 

She glances back up at Thirteen; keeping her expression calm and neutral, and opens her mouth to–

Match grabs Thirteen by the throat and slams him back into the cabinets. Thirteen starts to snarl, grabbing Match’s wrists and baring his teeth, and then–freezes, suddenly, for no apparent reason whatsoever. He and Match lock eyes, and Kara– 

They don’t lock eyes, she realizes. They almost do, but– 

That’s–strange.

Something about the way they’re looking at each other is . . . strange. 

“Stand down!” she snaps reflexively, and just as reflexively it comes out in her general’s voice. Match and Thirteen somehow manage to freeze even harder, both their bodies tensing so hard they nearly tremble as their eyes snap towards her. She thinks–mistake, again. That was a mistake too. 

She used a voice she’d use on soldiers, and she either tried to shut Thirteen up or tried to force Match to speak–or both, who even knows at this point–and that ended up with Thirteen breaking her flooring and Match outright attacking him because–

Why did Match attack him? 

And why were they looking at each other like that? 

That’s–something, she thinks. Why is that in her head, that that’s something? 

“Let go of each other,” she says, short and sharp; trying to reel back a step or two from her general’s voice. They let go of each other. “Step back.” 

Match steps back. Thirteen shifts back tighter against the cabinets, his posture stiffening. They’re both still too tense; muscles locked in place as hard as diamond. 

The cabinets aren’t cracked, she notices. Or dented, or scuffed, or knocked in any way. Not damaged at all. 

That’s a thing in her head too, for some reason. 

Kara keeps her eyes on the boys as she reaches a hand out to the wall and activates the sunstone’s self-repair functions again. It’ll take a few minutes longer to fix than just the dent she punched into the hallway wall did, but it’ll fix. 

She still doesn’t know how to address this behavior, and knows even less now that there’s behavior that needs addressed in both of them. 

She opens her mouth again, Thirteen bristles and Match goes completely blank, and– 

“Sorry about that,” Kal says as he ducks back into frame with a stressed-out sigh, dragging a hand back through his hair. He’s let it grow out while he was on Earth and hasn’t slicked it back properly today, so it’s mostly curls and mess right now. “It was just–uh. What happened to your kitchen?” 

Kara doesn’t actually know how to answer that question, because obviously she should answer that question truthfully, given that Kal is Thirteen and Match’s guardian and Lois Kal-El saw it all anyway, but also . . .

“Don't worry about it,” she answers shortly.

[marsdql]

Caught off guard

Brother’s best friend!Heeseung x fem!reader

You’re shocked to discover that your longtime crush Heeseung is now friends with your brother, leading to a fanfiction-like (literally) story.

genre: fluff, little suggestive?, brother’s bestfriend, reader is 3 years younger, idk what else… | wc: 2.1k | a/n: this story was originally made for my friend and her crush and everything except the fact he talked to her is real so if there’s any extra names, please let me know…!

———————————————————————————-

Your brother had made new friends during the first semester because of a lot of senior group projects, which made the house busy. Your brother and his friends wanted more quiet places to work on things, like each other's houses. It's strange that it was always at your house and not his friends' or the library, but whatever. More under cut!

You didn’t mind much, until a particular someone came over, Heeseung, the 6’0 slim brunette senior you’ve been crushing on since you were in middle school, now a freshman. You followed him around everywhere with your friends, making it so obvious that you guys were following HIM. You would send him holiday letters provided by the school, stall his social media, follow his friends and him at one point until he removed you over a silly kpop story... everything… and now, he’s with your brother?! Since when!

Bad thoughts filled your mind as you remembered all the embarrassing moments he caught you staring at him, thinking that he’d tell your brother all of it if he sees you and finds out that you’re the sister of the guy he’s getting closer to each day. But you were hungry, so hungry, you needed to eat, you always do before taking a nap, it’s like a routine, he can’t just ruin your routine. You start making plans on how to get to the kitchen without Heeseung and your brother spotting you. After a few minutes of thinking, you finally build up the courage to get downstairs and pray for the best.

You tip-toe your way down the stairs, attempting to make as little noise as possible, and to your surprise, the two boys are on the island table right across the fridge, you’re doomed, he’s going to see you, you can’t just walk back upstairs!

“Y/n? What are you doing, you look so stupid right now.” Your brother blurts out which makes you jolt up and fix your posture. Shoot. You forgot that they can see you from their perspective more than you can see them. But you act fast, “huh? Oh! Hi um.. I was just counting how many steps we have to the stairs.. for a math project!” What the heck was that response? Whatever, it’ll do. As you finish your sentence, you give yourself an excuse to get closer so that it doesn’t get too awkward, and there he is, the Heeseung of your dreams, locking eyes with you with his stale and cold expression planted on his face, not one tiny bit of shock in his face when seeing you.


 “Hey by the way, don’t take a nap, mom wants you to help her with groceries, she’s coming in a minute, wait in the living room or something just don’t go back upstairs” your brother says before putting all his focus back to the project he’s doing with sousou. At this point, you mutter out a small “okay” and forget the snack you came downstairs for, heading to the couch to go on your phone and act like nothing happened(secretly glancing at Heeseung from time to time.)

30 minutes later, your mother comes back while your brother and mister take a bathroom break. You head to the garage, opening the door for your mother to bring the groceries in for you to then place them on the counter. You’re holding big heavy bags, making you groan trying to pick them all up, then all of a sudden, as you're trying to get up, you feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, thinking you're stronger than you thought, but to your surprise… It's the dream man helping you. “Are you that lazy? Couldn’t you have just picked them one at a time? Hm?” He says as he coughs out a small chuckle, picking up the bags with ease. You can’t do anything but stare at him and place them on the table, your lips forming an O but unable to make a sound or blurt any words out. Before you get yourself to say anything, he cuts you off with a “You’re not slick, we both know exactly why you’re so shy” what…????? “I’m not shy at all?! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You scream before the nervousness gets to you. You never thought your first conversation with Heeseung was going to be like this. “Oh yeah? You think I don’t know what you do? All the letters you sent me the past 2 years? Common now, I’m not stupid hhh…” suddenly, he lets go of the bags and gets closer to you, your brother still in the washroom and your mother still outside. His cold expression is still there but with a slight smirk. Your cheeks and nose get red quickly, making him only grin harder as he sees the effect he has on you. “You wouldn’t want your brother to see all the cheesy things you’ve done, let alone your mother, hmph? Of course you wouldn’t want that, you’re such a nice girl they would never think you’d do that, you’re just a sweet girl who goes to school and hangs out with her friends, definitely doesn’t beg them to follow me around, right?” He’s so close to you, his words only making you blush harder. His eyes shift to the door as he watches your mother call for him “Oh hello Heeseung! Would you be a sweetheart and help me with these bags? Y/n, please put the milk away! I forgot something at that store, I need to go back and pick it up.” Of course, the young man quickly obeyed your mother and helped her out, leaving you red and shoving your face in the fridge to cool down, you’re cooked, you have no idea what's taking your brother so long, but it feels like an eternity… Since when did LEE HEESEUNG have the courage to say that? What’s he gonna say next???? You keep replaying the words he said a few seconds ago, making you go crazy all over again.

Hours later, 22:00, your brother and his friend passed out on the counter of the kitchen as you were laying in bed, bored and unable to think of anything except the incident that happened earlier. Your best friend would always write fanfiction of you and hee as a joke, not thinking anything of it because you knew you were not delusional enough to think a guy 3 years older than you would actually notice you or look your way.

Abruptly, you feel the urge to go to the bathroom, wanting to wash the guilt written all over you face from the amount of overthinking. As you get to the entrance, you notice a black statue from across the hallway, making your heart drop as it walks closer to you. Suddenly, your screams wake up the entire neighborhood, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't know what I did but I'm sorry I'll never wish death upon anyone else who likes Mingyu and joshua! I promise god I'll never ever hope that all S.coups fangirls except me will fall in a hole!" you close your eyes shut as you squeal and think its the end of your days.

Until that skinwalker finally decides to open his mouth and.. "BOO!" Heeseung screams as he shakes your shoulders, not initially intending on scaring you until he realized that you couldn't see his figure. Why did it have to be him again?! "Hey, I'm joking, calm down, you're okay. It's just me. What was all that blabbering about?" he says, again, with his famous chuckle you've probably heard more than actual words from his mouth. "You can't just do that! It's dark, nighttime and it's just annoying!" you wail, feeling surprised that you managed to actually say something to his face. "Huh? feisty, calm down scaredycat, do you usually see things?" You swallow, knowing that you not only see things, but hear things at night as well.

There's an awkward silence between you two, both standing in the dark with nothing but the light of the bathroom reflecting on eachothers skin. "So? You ain't gonna speak ‘bout nothing YOU'VE been doing? You just gonna stay quiet like that?" You gulp hard, since when was he this bold and confident? What did he expect you to say, then there you are, too scared and shy to talk again, obvious shyness on your face, making heeseung aware of it, once again. He would always secretly tease you, manspread in front of you while looking at you, trying not to stare at him back and attempting to put all your focus on your friends. He would lean against the wall and look at you up and down as you walked past him, with your face buried in your friend's back, trying not to go crazy over his state. He knew the effect he had on you, since the start, it boosted his ego the most. "You shy, doll?" He whispers as he gets closer, not scared of anyone catching you both being so close, almost heads touching.

“W-what if someone catches us like this?, you can't be so close..” You mutter under your breath, forcing the words out of your mouth knowing that you don't really want him to move. “Hm? You gonna stop me? I'll stop if you tell me to, you just gotta use your words, pretty” he whispers once again, looking down on you as he pushes both your bodies onto the wall near the door of the bathroom with his chest. Your lips are shut, unable to get yourself to push him away or say a word.

He feels you slowly giving in, he knows you would, you might know information about you but he knows all your body language, he knows how nervous you get when you're alone with him and he's ready to take advantage of you all. GO HIT THAT GUM JILGEONG!!(sorry i got bored) You feel 1000 knots in your stomach from his breath hitting you cold neck, seconds later, “Take me to your room.”

Saying that his words shocked you was a huge understatement, you were feeling so many emotions that you just went numb. Sight went foggy and you couldn't think anymore, the last thing you remembered was showing him the way to your bedroom. Heading to your bed with wobbly legs due to the fear you were feeling, you had zero idea on what was going to happen. How is this the first day you talk to Heeseung and it's already this crazy? You always imagined scenarios and insane stuff, but now it feels like you just manifested them all because this craziest one is coming to life.

“Cute room. Surprised you don't have any photos of me.” The tall man says as he throws himself on the bed. At this point, you would've been able to speak to him like a normal person, but all his flirtatious words made u only use your movements, no verbal communication in sight. He stares at your BT21 plushies with disgust, pushing them off the bed with his foot, is he really still annoyed about that instagram post? Or is he still jealous? “Hate those people” he huffs as he turns to his side, seeming amused with your sweet candy-like scent on your bed. “Why are you scared of your own bed?” He comments as he watches you stare at him from your desk, realizing that you arent on your bed because HE'S ON IT. “I-im not scared, maybe you're just too big for my bed and I can't fit.. Fatty..” ‘What'd you just call me?’ “Huh? What! I didn't say a-anything?” ‘No no i deeefinitely heard something, did you just call me fat?’ “Okay yes! I did, am I lying though? You're not slick, I know the locker you share with Jay is greasy as hell!” you squeal as you make a disgusted face. ‘Yeah? You saw me get out of class to get a cookie too? Or were you too busy trying to hide from me to be able to see what was in my hand?’ Shoot, You cant reply to him with anything, both answers are wrong.. ‘Yeah that's what i thought.’

“W-what are you doing in my room, why do you wanna be here?” You ask him, innocently. ‘Because I don't break my back sleeping on the couch and I have enough manners to not barge into your brother's room when he's asleep.’ “It's better if you sleep in my brother's room than anyone finding out you slept in mine…” 'I'll leave before anyone wakes up. Comon, I wont do anything.’ It's not like he’d do anything anyway, he's as nonchalant as ever and obviously wouldn't try anything on you, he knows you wouldn't actually give into THAT, plus, he's glad youre not like that, atleast at your age.

———————————————————————————

———————————————————————————Anyways that’s all I wrote so far…. I’m not sure if I should continue (the reason I stopped was because me and my friend did in fact get mad at the original man that I had written in this story because he ACTUALLY UNFOLLOWED HER for posting seventeen on her insta story and I didn’t wanna write about him anymore)🥲

No hate this is probably my first ff since 6th grade… Let me know if should infact continue or not though!

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

𝑀𝒪𝑅𝐸 𝒯𝐻𝒜𝒩 𝒥𝒰𝒮𝒯 𝒜 𝐿𝐼𝒯𝒯𝐿𝐸 𝐵𝐼𝒯-𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒩𝐼𝐸 𝐻𝒜𝒞𝒦𝐸𝑅

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤

The room is dimly lit, shadows dancing along the walls as the music pulses softly in the background. Vinnie stands across from you, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, eyes holding yours with that look. It’s a look you've seen a thousand times, but tonight, there’s something different about it, a deeper intensity, a smirk that’s both playful and almost daring.

“Come on, y/n," he murmurs, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. "You’ve got me here. Why play it safe?”

Your heartbeat picks up at his words, but you try to keep your cool, folding your arms as you lean against the wall. “Who said I was playing anything, Vinnie?”

He lets out a low laugh, stepping closer. He’s only a few feet away now, close enough that you can smell the faint hint of his cologne mixed with a touch of adrenaline and something else, a wildness he can barely keep hidden. His eyes never leave yours, burning with something you both know is more than just a crush.

“Girl, I want you," he says, his voice low and serious now. "More than just a little bit. More than just a little too much.”

His words hit you straight in the chest, catching you off guard even though you’ve been hoping he’d say them. Your heart races as he steps closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, hear his breath catch as he waits for your response. For a moment, the world fades, the noise of the party outside the door dulling to a soft hum, leaving just the two of you in the thick, heady silence.

“Fuck your games,” he whispers, his hand brushing yours, sending a thrill up your spine. “Come on, play with me. Just for tonight. Let’s see where it goes.”

His words linger in the air, daring you to let go of your doubts, of the guarded front you've put up. You take a deep breath, feeling that rush of excitement and maybe a little danger as you finally close the space between you.

“Fine,” you say, a smirk tugging at your lips as you place a hand on his chest. “But only if you’re ready for things to blow up.”

His grin widens, and he brings his hand up to cradle your face, eyes smoldering as he pulls you close. The room might as well not even exist anymore, there’s only him, and you, and the thrilling uncertainty of where this will take you.

The tension between you and Vinnie is electric, every inch of space between you crackling as you lock eyes, both daring the other to break first. His hand cups your face, fingers brushing against your jaw, and his thumb traces a line across your cheek as he watches your expression with that steady, knowing gaze.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he murmurs, voice low and rough. His thumb trails down to the corner of your mouth, and you feel a shiver ripple down your spine. He’s not moving, just holding you there, letting the anticipation build. Every fiber of your being is telling you to close the gap, but he’s waiting, wanting you to make the first move.

With a slow exhale, you finally step in, letting your hand slide up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. Vinnie’s eyes flicker, a hint of surprise mingling with excitement, and he lets out a soft chuckle as you take control.

Your lips hover a breath away from his, the thrill making your heart pound. "I'm ready if you are," you whisper, barely more than a murmur, challenging him to follow through.

That’s all it takes.

In one swift motion, Vinnie leans down, his lips brushing against yours softly, almost like he's savoring the first taste. His hand slides to the small of your back, pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed together. The world around you blurs, the low hum of music in the background and the muffled laughter outside forgotten as the kiss deepens, turning from tentative to urgent in seconds.

The next moments are a blur hands tangled in hair, the feeling of his heartbeat pounding against yours, and that overwhelming, dizzying sense that you’ve crossed into something you can’t come back from. Each touch, each kiss, feels like a promise neither of you are ready to put into words just yet. And even though neither of you knows where this is heading, you feel that spark growing into something that could burn out of control.

As you pull back for a breath, his forehead resting against yours, you realize he’s smiling a real, soft smile that only you get to see. His fingers trace patterns along your back, grounding you in the here and now, even as your mind races.

"I told you,” he says, his voice soft but sure. “I’m not letting this be a "maybe" thing. I’m all in.”

You look up at him, that familiar, playful confidence shining in his eyes. And for the first time in a long time, you feel yourself letting go of your guard, leaning into whatever this could become.

“So…what now?” you ask, feeling a surge of excitement mix with the slight uncertainty.

Vinnie grins, squeezing your hand as he glances toward the door. “How about we ditch this party and find somewhere quieter?” he suggests, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that feels intimate, promising.

With one last glance at the room, you nod, letting him lead you outside. The night air is cool and sharp, a contrast to the warmth between you, but his hand stays entwined with yours as you walk down the quiet street, lost in your own little world.

The possibilities of the night stretch out before you, and you’re ready to dive headfirst into whatever comes next, knowing that, just maybe, he feels exactly the same.

The two of you walk in comfortable silence, the quiet city streets illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights above. The night feels endless, like it’s all yours. With Vinnie’s hand wrapped around yours, everything else fades away no distractions, no half measures. Just the two of you, each step bringing you closer to whatever this is becoming.

Eventually, you reach a small, hidden park you’ve both wandered to a few times before, drawn by the solitude it offers late at night. There’s a bench under a canopy of trees, and he leads you over, taking a seat before pulling you down beside him. The leaves above rustle gently in the breeze, and somewhere in the distance, a car rumbles by, the headlights washing over you for a second before disappearing down the road.

Vinnie leans back, his gaze fixed on the night sky before shifting back to you, his expression a mix of amusement and warmth. “It’s kind of crazy, isn’t it?” he says, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your hand. “How fast this is happening?”

You look at him, feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach. “Feels like it was bound to happen eventually,” you say softly, watching his face for any hint of hesitation. But there’s none. He’s listening, looking at you as if you’re the only thing that matters.

“Eventually,” he repeats, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Guess we’re both not the best at admitting things.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “I could say the same about you. How long were you gonna keep giving me that look before you finally said something?”

He tilts his head, as if considering. “Maybe I just like watching you try to figure me out,” he says, his tone teasing. But then his expression softens, and he reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Or maybe I just wanted to make sure you were ready for me. For this.”

You don’t respond right away, the weight of his words sinking in as his hand lingers by your face. His fingers brush your cheek, gentle and reassuring, and you lean into his touch, letting your eyes drift closed for a moment.

“I think I’ve been ready,” you admit quietly, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. “Maybe I just didn’t know how to say it.”

He smiles, that warm, genuine smile that makes your heart skip. “Good,” he whispers, his voice just a little rough around the edges. “Because I don’t want this to be something that fades away tomorrow.”

You search his eyes, sensing the honesty there, and you feel that wall around your heart crumble just a little more. “I don’t want that either,” you say, squeezing his hand.

Vinnie lets out a breath, looking almost relieved, as if he’s finally hearing something he’d been hoping for. His hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you close until your foreheads touch. The world is still and quiet, holding its breath along with you as you both stay there, wrapped up in the intimacy of the moment.

And then, without another word, he kisses you again, this time slower, softer, like he’s savoring each second, letting the world fall away. His fingers trace along your jaw, gentle and tender, and you melt into him, feeling every worry, every doubt, dissolve under his touch.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are soft, and he brushes his thumb across your cheek, his expression almost unreadable.

“What?” you whisper, curious about what’s going on in that head of his.

He shakes his head, smiling a little, almost as if he’s amazed. “Nothing. Just thinking about how crazy it is that I’ve had you here this whole time, and it’s taken us this long to get here.”

You let out a soft laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “Guess we’re both a little late to the party,” you say, teasingly.

He chuckles, squeezing you a bit tighter. “Better late than never, though,” he murmurs.

For a long while, you sit there together, wrapped up in each other, watching the stars above. There’s no need for more words tonight. You both know exactly where you stand, and for once, you’re more than okay with taking things one heartbeat at a time.

The cool breeze of the night wraps around you, but Vinnie’s warmth keeps you grounded, his arm still around your shoulders. You can feel his breath against your hair as you both sit in silence, a rare moment where everything seems to fall into place, where the world feels right.

After a while, you shift slightly, looking up at him. His gaze is steady, but there’s a softness there now, a tenderness you haven’t always seen before. You’d gotten so used to his playful, teasing side, but tonight it feels like he’s letting you in on something deeper. You can see it in the way his eyes linger on you, the way his touch lingers a little longer than usual.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask, your voice almost a whisper, unsure why it feels important to ask now, but needing to hear it from him.

Vinnie’s hand moves to cup your face, his thumb brushing your lower lip as he gazes into your eyes with an intensity that makes your heart skip. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “I don’t want to just have fun with you for a night and forget about it. I want… this whatever this is. I want to see where it goes.”

You feel a weight lift off your chest. It’s that same thing you’ve been dancing around for so long, the uncertainty of what this could turn into. You’d both been hesitant, skirting around it, but now it’s out there in the open, and it feels right. The vulnerability in his words makes your stomach flip, but in the best way possible. You’ve wanted this, wanted him, but more than that, you wanted the honesty.

“Good,” you reply, your voice barely audible, but the meaning clear. You reach up to take his hand, bringing it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles before looking back up at him. “Because I don’t want to do this halfway either. I want all of it. I want you, Vinnie.”

His eyes soften as he leans in, forehead touching yours. The air between you crackles again, but now there’s a deeper connection, a trust that hadn’t been there before. His lips brush against yours lightly, just a soft, lingering kiss that leaves a warmth in its wake.

As you pull back, his smile is easy, relaxed, and the intensity of the moment shifts to something more playful. He leans back on the bench, stretching out a little, his hand still wrapped around yours.

“Think we’re ready to head back, or do you want to keep hanging out here, watching the stars?” he asks, his voice teasing but with a hint of sincerity.

You chuckle, looking at the dark sky above, the stars twinkling faintly through the gaps in the trees. The night feels endless, like it could stretch on forever if you wanted it to. But there’s something about this moment, something that makes you want to savor it for a little longer before heading back to reality.

“I think we’re good here for now,” you reply, shifting so you’re closer to him. You lean your head back against his shoulder again, the sound of the leaves rustling around you feeling like a soft lullaby. “Let’s stay here for just a little bit longer.”

Vinnie hums in agreement, resting his chin on the top of your head, his arm loosely draped around you. The peaceful quiet between you feels like the perfect kind of silence, the kind that speaks volumes without either of you needing to say anything more.

But eventually, the night catches up with you both. The cool air starts to seep through your jacket, and the sounds of the party in the distance remind you that the world outside is still spinning. But you don’t want to go back just yet. Not while everything feels so simple, so right.

When you finally get up to leave, Vinnie doesn’t let go of your hand. He pulls you close once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you both walk back toward the streetlights. As you leave the park behind, there’s a sense of calm between you, a quiet understanding that this moment, this night, is only the beginning.

The future is uncertain, but tonight, with him beside you, the possibilities feel endless.

And you’re both ready to take that next step, together.

[goatcheesecak3]

I hate you too Pt.3

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x reader

Warnings: alcohol, brief mentions of nsfw

Fic type: angst, fluff

Summary: both trying to wrap your heads around the situation, you and Adam each reach out to your friends.

A/n: hello!! Probably the last part to this short series, I've had fun writing it though! Maybe I'll try a Lawrence fic next??? Who knows. Anyways, enjoy! :^)

Your heart sank. What the hell kind of sick game was Adam playing with you? Hooking up was one thing, but you'd both poured your hearts out to eachother, you though you had a real connection. You wiped tears from your eyes and gritted your teeth in anger. You needed a friend, a distraction. You called Mark.

"H- hey Mark" you spoke into the phone, sniffling a little and hoping it didn't sound like you'd been crying.

"What's up, y/n?" His voice sounded cheery.

"Look, I don't wanna put you on the spot or anything, man, but I uh... I'm having kinda a bad day, I was wondering if I could come over?"

"Hey, you know you're welcome anytime. Scott's coming over later to watch this lame slasher movie I picked up, it's gonna be a hoot. You should join us!"

His kindness was so jarring I'm contrast to the cold, unfeeling text you'd just recieved from Adam. It almost made you tear up again, but you held it together long enough to set a time, before hanging the phone up.

You made yourself a rather exquisite breakfast consisting of a cigarette, a beer, and several more cigarettes. Following this, you drifted in and out of sleep on the couch while watching episodes of beavis and butthead, and trying your hardest not to think about Adam.

When 6pm rolled around, you finally got yourself dressed and headed out to Mark's apartment.

...

After sending you that awful text, Adam had fallen asleep for a few hours. When he awoke, it was the evening. Despite a full day's rest, he didn't feel any better, in fact, he felt much worse. He knew he'd fucked up, he'd let himself step too far and now he was pretty sure your entire friendship was out the window, let alone any chance at a relationship. He knew deep down this was for the best, or at least he thought so? His head was swimming and he really couldn't make much sense of the whole situation. He had to bite the bullet, and call in for reinforcements in the form of his friend Scott. Adam knew full well that revealing the events that had transpired to Scott would come with a barrage of jokes and teasing, but at the end of it all, Scott was his friend and he'd help him make sense of it all.

...

"Yeah, I can meet you bro. I'm going to Mark's to watch this lame movie, I'll come pick you up and we can talk on the way. We're long overdue for a guy's night"

"Thanks, Man. Yeah, a guy's night sounds good"

Adam was beyond relieved that it would just be the three of them, he couldn't bear to face you right now.

At half six, Scott's beat up old Ford pulled up outside Adam's building, to find him already waiting on the curb, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

"You got one of them for me?" Scott grinned as Adam climbed in.

"Always" Adam obliged, handing Scott a cigarette.

"So," Scott pulled off with a screech, "What did you wanna talk about?"

"It's about y/n"

"What, you hittin that or something?" Scott teased.

Adam's unexpected silence answered that question, as he shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"No. Way. No fuckin WAY dude. Mark totally owes me 50 bucks" Scott gave Adam an affectionate punch in the arm, briefly averting his gaze from the road to see what he expected to be a smug grin plastered across Adam's face. Instead, however, Adam's face told a story of guilt and confliction.

"What? You didn't her pregnant did you?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Nah man, nothing like that. It's just... ugh, I don't know, I think I like her? But like, I'd just break her heart if I went there" Adam stared straight ahead as he spoke.

"You don't know that, man just tell her how you feel. At the very least you'll get to see her naked a couple more times before you completely fuck it up." It seemed that Scott possessed the incredible ability to never take anything seriously.

"Yeah... I don't think i can do that. Like, I think I've pretty much nailed that coffin shut"

"Well you certainly nailed something," Scott held out his fist to Adam and grinned to himself.

"Dude, I'm serious"

"So am I! Dude, emotional bullshit aside, y/n's a fuckin smokeshow, and I'm proud of my boy for his achievements"

Adam bit the insides of his cheeks, but couldn't help the smile from creeping across his face. He knew the whole macho bullshit thing was gross and childish, but admittedly, he was kinda proud of himself for sleeping with you. He bumped Scott's fist.

"There he is" Scott chuckled, "so, now that we've got all this acting like a pussy out the way, you're gonna pick up your phone, call y/n and tell her 'I'll be at your place later with condoms and viagra, chug a couple energy drinks 'cause we're gonna go all night'" he joked.

"You know, I think that approach might be a little full on" Adam laughed. "But you're right, I gotta stop being a little bitch about this and tell her how I feel"

"Awesome. Me and Mark can help you plan how you're gonna do it tonight, but you owe us another guy's night if we do"

"How come?"

"Because you're totally acting like a chick"

"Shut up, man. You're an asshole, you know that?"

...

You'd been at Mark's apartment for a little while already, drinking beer and waiting for Scott to arrive.

"Does he know I'm gonna be here?" You asked casually

"You know, totally slipped my mind to tell him. Hell be here any minute, so I guess he'll find out when he arrives" Mark smiled.

As if to punctuate that sentence, the unmistakable sound of Scott's loud footsteps approached the apartment door, followed by a hefty knock.

Mark opened the door, to see both Scott and Adam waiting.

"Oh hey! Guess the whole gang's here" Mark smiled.

The two men entered the apartment, Adam's expression slowly turning to one of dread when he saw you sat on the couch.

"What the hell is he doing here?!"

"What the hell is she doing here?!" The pair of you exclaimed at the same time.

"Oh come on, not this again. Guys, just sit down, relax, have a few beers. I'm too tired to watch you two fight all night" Mark rolled his eyes.

"Won't be necessary" you said coldly, rising to your feet and attempting to barge your way past the men and out of the apartment.

"Ohhhh I don't think so, little lady" Scott scoffed, blocking your exit.

"Scott, I'm warning you, you know I could kick your ass" you bit.

"Be that as it may, you and Adam got a lot to talk about. Now Mark and I are gonna leave for a while, give you two some privacy, and you're gonna solve this" Scott said. Seeing Scott be the voice of reason was like seeing a unicorn, you couldn't believe your eyes.

"Why should I leave? This is my apartment?" Mark argued as Scott ushered him out

"Because you're gonna head down to the ATM and withdraw that 50 bucks you owe me"

"What?" The realisation set in and he turned to face you and Adam, "you two? No WAY!"

"Have funnnnn" Scott mocked in a sing-song voice as he guided a gobsmacked Mark out of the apartment, closing the door behind them on their way out.

The apartment was silent now, you and Adam both stood, stunned, staring blankly at eachother. You would have kept this stand off going on forever, if you weren't so drained. You threw yourself down onto the couch and sighed exasperatedly.

"This is so fucking humiliating" you muttered under your breath.

Adam sat beside you. You held your head in your hands, eyes glued to the floor, but you could feel Adam's gaze burning into you.

"Y/n, I-"

"No, it's fine, like I get it. Last night was a mistake, it didn't mean anything. You don't have to tell me again." You snapped, not wanting to relive the heartbreak.

Adam exhaled

"I didn't mean that" he said quietly, his voice sounding shameful.

Suddenly, something inside you snapped. You were furious, he'd completely devasted you, and now he'd changed his mind?

"Then what the fuck do you mean?!" You blurted angrily, "you hate me one minute, you like me the next. What the actual fuck is your problem, Adam? What is it you want? Because in case you hadn't realised, you've given me some pretty mixed signals in the last 24 hours!"

"I want you!" He yelled "I mean.. I want to be able to want you" his voice was soft, gentle even.

Yours was not.

"Oh my fucking GOD. Do you only talk in riddles or something? What next, do I need to solve a fucking treasure hunt to find your missing brain?!"

"Y/n, no, please just listen.. okay? I just- man I thought I'd have time to plan this" he exclaimed to himself, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Look, if I don't get a straight answer in the next five minutes I'm walking out that door" you said, calmer now.

"Okay.. okay.." Adam breathed slowly, he seemed to be trying to find the words.

"Look," he began, "I'm in the weirdest place emotionally right now, I've always struggled with being vulnerable, but I mean, I'm so much worse these days. Ever since... well, you know..." he bit the inside of his lip and looked ahead, his eyes filled with sadness.

"I'm still trying to get myself back, and I don't know if the part of me that can let people in is ready.

If I let you in right now, I'm scared that I'll only hurt you further down the line, and I could never ask you to just wait around for me to get better."

He stared at the floor and sighed, feeling quite sorry for himself.

You considered what he had said for a moment, before finally speaking, much gentler this time.

"So get better now"

"What? Y/n, it's mot that simple"

"Yes, Adam, it is that simple" you said, your tone kind, but firm. "You say you're trying to get better at letting people in, and in the last 24 hours you've been more emotionally honest with your arch nemesis than you would ever imagine. Sure, it doesn't exactly scream stability, but that's part of the process. You're making progress" you took Adam's hand and brushed your thumb across his skin reassuringly.

"It's not gonna be easy, but if you don't take this chance and let me in then you're not moving forward".

Adam let out a half hearted chuckle, and wiped a few tears he hoped you hadn't seen from his eyes.

"I hate the fact that you're always right"

"Get used to it" you smiled warmly, giving him a playful nudge.

"Okay... so in the spirit of moving forward" he gulped, "would you uhh... be free for date sometime?"

He smiled sheepishly, nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket. You noticed that his eyes seemed to look extra sparkly, as if there was hope and excitement in them for the first time in a while.

"I'm free right now" you giggled, placing your hand on Adam's cheek and leaning in to kiss him.

Adam's hands held onto your waist as he leaned into the kiss, gradually pushing you back onto the sofa. He kissed you deeper now, more hungrily, his fingertips were just brimming the hem of your shirt, when...

"Aaaand the two of you can go continue that "date" literally anywhere but my sofa" Mark exclaimed, bursting into the apartment, Scott following giggling like a schoolboy.

"Were you assholes listening through the door?!" You squealed, jumping up and adjusting your shirt.

"Hey, I didn't wanna, but Mark needed proof that he lost the bet!" Scott laughed, barely able to contain himself.

"Dude! Come on, that was priv- wait.. what bet?" You asked, more curious than annoyed by this point.

"I bet Mark that you and Adam secretly liked eachother, and now I'm 50 bucks richer" Scott said proudly.

"Never would've imagined you guys together" Mark admitted, "but you know what, I like this little dynamic. It's sweet, or at least it is when you're not tryna bang on my couch" he teased.

"Sorry about that, man" Adam chuckled, his cheeks reddening.

"Now, come on you crazy kids," Scott said, in a slightly patronising, but good natured tone, "get your asses down to some restaurant or something where you can sit and make googly eyes at eachother before me and Mark throw up"

...

You and Adam walked down the street after leaving Mark's apartment. Your hands brushed against eachother, and without words they were interlinked. Just to think, a couple days ago you would have thrown up at the thought of holding Adam's hand, but now it was all you wanted to do.

"So... a restaurant, huh?" Adam said, swinging your arms slightly.

"Hm" you tilted your head, "orrrrr... we could head back to mine, crack open a bottle of wine on the balcony... maybe fool around a little?" You looked at Adam with a cheeky grin.

"God, you just get me" Adam laughed, placing his free hand on your waist and planting a soft kiss onto your lips.

And it was indeed, a perfect date.

[mitsua]

Silvery orb, I love his golden orbs

Warnings: none Genre: slight angst to fluff

Series: Obey me! SWD? Words' count: 0.71k

Pairing: Mammon × GN! Y/N

You've felt very uncomfortable since you were brought by force to the Devildom. Never expecting to meet angels and demons and not just any sort of demons or angels—but some are the ones that are biblically spoken of.

Some were very kind towards you while some weren't, as in every new classroom each new scholar year. By your age, you've come to terms with not getting along with everyone and just ignored them.

Not like you weren't afraid enough to even talk to them anyway.

Excepting the one who has been in charge of you since the beginning by Lucifer—the oldest of the brothers.

Mammon.

Just as you weren't expecting to meet demons and angels, you weren't expecting to befriend one. But here you are—laughing your ass off as Mammon shows you the latest scam he's gotten involved in.

There you are—feeling anger for him when he's unable to stand up for himself when his brothers talk badly about him.

There you were—taking care of him after his older brother had beaten him down for breaking the rules once more.

You couldn't really recall how many days or nights you've spent doing it anymore—not like there was any sun to call day.

You've craved to take Mammon with you to where you used to live before this cursed place and never come back again.

You knew he wouldn't accept because as much as he loves you and has told you so after building a romantic relation with you—you see how much he loves his brothers as well.

So you propose him to visit the human world with you, just for a day and a night.

You're aware Mammon has visited it hundreds of times, but you've never gone together as a couple.

You spent the day at your beach house, teaching Mammon about some human things that you'd sometimes only got to spoke about at the Devildom but weren't able to exactly show him how they function.

As the sunset came, you finally went out of the house to bury your feet in sand and play in the sea—explaining him that at that hour you've got a secret spot for yourselves until the next evening came.

So you stand there, peacefully watching the big shiny circle at the horizon come down and let the rising orb called moon bathe with its white, gentle light.

You missed this, Mammon could see it. The nostalgia in your eyes was too much to hide and it made his heart hurt.

You've spoken about moving to the human world with such an excitement that he's never noticed he's done that when giving you rational arguments to stay with his brothers.

—You know what Mammon?—you talked after so long, gusts of wind hitting your face and making your hair go along with it,—after today I've realized two things will forever stay the same for me.

Mammon gulped, awaiting for you to tell him that you want to stay in your world and that you're better off without each other. He of course didn't want any of that, but his nerves were starting to get into the surface just as the dolphin you watched hours ago jumping and splashing around.

He stayed silent, rather letting you break the subtle silence between you two and the uproar of boats passing ever so far,—I love you and after sunlit days, rises the moon in here.

You glanced at him,—I'll be wherever you want to be—. You clarified after noticing the hint of confusion on his furrowing brows, laughing softly.

Mammon had never felt so tranquil than after hearing you say that and seeing your alluring smile. He hugged you tightly and you could swear you heard him sniffle on your shoulder.

—Oh MC, I've also accepted something,—he revealed, keeping his hands on your shoulders to look you in the eyes. —You're the one I want to spend my life with, and if that comes with us having to move from the HoL, I'll go wherever you are too—.

Such fools in love you two were, weren't you?

But finally, you've come to an agreement to spend time wherever you want to that you both feel comfortable in.

—I love you to the moon and back—.

Tried out a new format!

All writings' rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the pictures and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!

[piinksdoll]

→ [808 | Spencer Reid/Emily Prentiss]

Pairing~ Spencer Reid x Fem!Bau!Reader, Emily Prentiss x Fem!Bau!Reader

Genre~ angst, fluff, kissing

Word Count~ 2.8k

Warnings~ heartbreak, wine thats rlly it

a/n~ k this is very angsty, sad spence, sad reader, cute emily tho so yeah! have fun lmk what yall think! also NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

Today is the day. October 17th. 808 days. 

Spencer and I have been together for 808 days. I've counted every day since the first time he said ‘I love you’. I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was after a particularly hard case, and I had gotten hurt. After coming back to Quantico he insisted on driving me home. He walked me to my door and stood in front of me. His hands were trembling, the rain soaked his hair and his clothes. He looked at me with pure adoration before the words left his lips. “I love you Y/n.” 

I have been up for 6 hours, pacing my apartment trying to prepare myself for what's to come. He's on his way here and I know why. It’s over.

I glance up at the clock, 7:58. He’ll be here any minute. Suddenly I'm snapped out of my thoughts with the knock on my door. I opened the door and there he stood.  “Come in.” I moved out the way to let him in. He enters my apartment, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings as if he’s trying to memorise every detail. The warmth of my home feels so stark against the chill of the situation.

“Hey.” His voice barely above a whisper. “Hey.” I replied, my voice almost inaudible. “Do you want some coffee or-?” I start, desperate to break the silence, but he cuts me off. “No, I- ” He hesitates, glancing down at the floor before meeting my eyes. “I think we need to talk. I swallow hard, nodding slowly as the knot in my stomach tightens. “Yeah, I think we do.”

“Y/n, I don't know how to say this. I've been thinking about us, about everything.” He looked at me with those damn brown eyes. I could melt in them. “I think... I think we need to take a break. I need time to figure things out.” My brows furrowed in confusion. “Spencer. I don't know what to say to you.”

He nods slowly, tears pooling in his eyes. “I think it’s for the best. For both of us.” I shook my head, laughing bitterly at his words. “The best? For both of us? No Spencer, I think this is just for you.” His brow furrows, confusion mixed with hurt flashing across his face. “What do you mean?” I close my eyes trying to stop my tears from falling. “I mean, you’ve found something with JJ, haven’t you?” I cross my arms defensively, my heart racing. “You’re too scared to admit it, but you want her. You’re using ‘us’ as an excuse to justify leaving.”

“That’s not true!” he protests, his voice rising slightly. “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. You know how much I care about you.” I shake my head at his words. 

“No Spencer, you don't because if you did, we wouldn't be here. Don't act like there's nothing going on between you too because there is. I've seen the stolen glances, the lingering touches. Do you think im stupid? I've seen the way you look at eachother so don't. Don't try to pretend you care about my feelings because you do not.” A sob escapes my lips. My hands are shaking and tears are streaming down my face as I continue “You don't get it do you? You are my whole world Spencer. I'd give my life for you and all I get is ‘I didn't plan for this to happen?’ You’re leaving me for one of, not only yours, but also my best friend. Like who does that to someone they love.” I shake my head, my tears blurring my vision, and for a moment, it feels like the world is collapsing around me. 

“I thought we had something special,” I say, my voice cracking. “Every day for 2 years, I believed we were building a future together. But now, here we are, and you’re throwing it all away.”

“Just go Spencer, I can't look at you without it ripping my heart out.” My voice trembles. He freezes for a moment, his hand still hovering over the doorknob, and I can see the hurt in his eyes “Y/N…” he starts, but I can’t bear to hear any more. “Please,” I choke out, forcing myself to meet his gaze one last time. “Just go.” His eyes search mine, a mixture of longing and despair etched across his face, and I want to scream at him to stay, to tell him I’ll forgive him, that we can work through this. But I can't do that to myself.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking as he leaves my apartment for the last time. 

My knees give in, I hit the floor unable to hold myself up. A gut wrenching scream leaves my lips, it feels as if the walls are closing in on me suffocating me with the weight of my heartbreak. I curl into myself, clutching my arms around my legs, the tears flowing freely now as sobs wrack my body. Each cry is a release, a desperate attempt to let go of the pain that clings to me like a second skin. It's over

—

Tonight is the first pasta and wine night at Rossi’s since Spencer left me for JJ. I smooth out my dress before heading out. Emily came to pick me up, “Hey, gorgeous! Ready to have some fun?” she asks, pulling me into a quick hug. I force a smile. “Yeah, let’s do this.” 

The drive to Rossi’s was quiet. I felt like Emily wanted to say something but chose not to pry. As we pulled into the driveway of Rossi’s gorgeous house, I saw Spencer’s car already parked. It made my stomach uneasy. I feel a pang in my chest, but I shake it off as we step inside.

“Y/N! Emily! You made it!” Penelope squeals, rushing over to pull me into a tight hug. Her excitement is contagious, and I can’t help but smile. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss Rossi’s cooking for the world,” I reply, attempting to sound cheerful. I felt Emily squeeze my hand, she gave me an encouraging smile as we walked further into the house. 

I catch glimpses of Spencer and JJ together as we walk past the kitchen into the living room. They’re sitting side by side on the couch, sharing quiet laughs and playful nudges. The way Spencer leans closer to her, the way JJ tucks her hair behind her ear, it all feels like a cruel reminder of what I’ve lost. I swallow hard, forcing myself to look away.

I walk back into the kitchen not wanting to witness them for another second taking a seat on the island with Emily standing next to me. “How are you doing bella?” Rossi asks concern etched on his face as he sets down a plate of freshly baked garlic bread.

I force a smile, trying to mask the hurt inside me. “I’m okay. Just… enjoying the night.” He gives me a knowing look, one that makes my heart sink a little. “You know I’m here for you, right? You don’t have to put on a brave face for me. And I know you’ll find someone, in fact they may be closer than you think.” I look at him confused. “Thanks, Rossi,” I reply, my voice soft. “I appreciate it.” I look back at Emily whose cheeks are now covered in a pink hue.

“What’s going on with you two?” I ask, raising an eyebrow playfully to mask my curiosity. She straightens up, her demeanour shifting. “Nothing! Just… a little wine, that’s all,” she stammers, glancing at the glass in her hand as if it holds all the answers. “Uh-huh, sure,” I tease.

After dinner we all begin to, wine is flowing a little more freely, and laughter filling the spaces between conversation. I catch JJ glancing at me more than once from across the living room, but I do my best to avoid her eyes, pretending to be focused on Emily’s story about some misadventure with Penelope. Eventually, JJ stands up “I’ll be right back,” she whispers to Spencer before making her way to the couch im seated on, and I feel the dread in my stomach grow as she walks towards me.

“Y/N?” JJ’s voice is gentle as she comes to stand by me. “Can we… talk for a second?” I hesitate, glancing at Emily, who gives me a subtle nod. I take a deep breath, then nod, standing up to follow JJ out of the living room and onto the back patio. The cool winds brushed me, I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself. 

“Y/N,” JJ begins softly, “I know I should’ve talked to you sooner. I just… I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already have.” I blink back the sting of tears in my eyes, She takes a breath, “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. It just… did. And I’m sorry. I never wanted to cause you pain.” I nod slowly, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “I know, JJ,” I whisper, my voice softer than I expected. “But you did. You really hurt me.”

JJ’s face falls, and I can see the guilt in her eyes as she steps a little closer, her voice shaky. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. And you have every right to not forgive me or let me in your life. I care about you. You’re my family.”

I give her a small, sad smile. “That’s the thing, Jaje,” I say quietly. “You’re like my big sister. I’ve always looked up to you, trusted you. That’s why this hurts so much. I don’t know why you’d do this.”

She looks down, biting her lip as tears well up in her eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you,” she says again, her voice breaking. “It just… I don’t know how to explain it. Spencer and I, we just…”

I shake my head, cutting her off gently. “You don’t have to explain. I get it. These things happen, and I know you didn’t plan for it. But it still hurts, JJ.” Her shoulders sag, and I can see the weight of her guilt bearing down on her. “I know,” she whispers, tears spilling over. “And I wish I could take it back. I really do.” I reach out, placing my hands on her arms lightly, offering her an understanding look. “I can forgive you, JJ,” I tell her softly. “With time, I will. But right now… I just need space. I need time to heal.” JJ nods, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I understand. And I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wish I could make it right.”

“I know you are,” I reply. “And I appreciate that you’re here, apologising. But it’s going to take time.” She sniffs, trying to compose herself. “If you ever want to talk, I’ll be here. I just want you to know that.”

I give her a small nod. “Thanks, JJ. You’ll always be my sister. No matter what. I love you.” JJ’s breath hitches at my words, her eyes widening in surprise. But as I pull her into a tight hug, I feel her tense body soften against mine, and she wraps her arms around me in return. “I love you too, Y/N,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “I always will.” I give her a warm smile before returning to the group. 

—

It’s been a month since everything with Spencer and JJ. A long, painful month, but slowly, things have been getting easier. I’ve been spending more time with Emily lately. She’s been there for me, a constant source of support when I needed it most. What started as a few friendly drinks after work or late-night phone calls turned into something more, a connection I hadn’t realised was forming. 

Tonight, the team is out for drinks, one of those rare evenings where the case is over, and for once, we don’t have to rush off to the next one. The bar is lively, the music loud, and the energy infectious. Emily and I have been dancing for the past hour, laughing and letting loose. I haven’t felt this carefree in a long time. I step away from the dance floor for a second, and go to the table where Derek, Penelope, Aaron, Rossi, and Spencer were sat. Emily and JJ went to grab drinks. 

“So, you and Prentiss looked pretty cozy out there. Do I sense a relationship perhaps?” Derek teases me, nudging my shoulder with a playful grin, I roll my eyes, trying to play it off, but I can feel a blush creeping up my face. “Derek, it’s not like that,” I protest, though my voice betrays me. 

Penelope leans in, her eyes have a look of mischief. “Uh-huh, sure. You’ve been glued to each other all night. Just saying.” Even Hotch cracks a small smile, sipping his drink. “It’s been nice to see you so relaxed lately,” he says, with genuine warmth in his voice. I can’t help but smile back “I’m just enjoying the night, guys. And even if I like her, who says she likes me?” They all look at me in shock, “Y/n be serious for a second, she cant get enough of you. You guys are attached at the hip every second you’re together.” Penelope exclaimed, trying to convince me. “I- I don't know you guys…” I shake my head reluctantly, as Morgan is about to reply Emily and JJ come back with drinks for everyone. “What’re we talking about?” Emily asked as she slid into the booth next to me. “They’re being ridiculous as always and I kinda wanna leave…” I whispered the last part leaning into her shoulder. “Alright we can leave, ok you guys I think we’re done for the night. We're gonna head out!” I let out a breath of relief as we made our way out of the bar. 

Emily took my hand into hers shooting chills up my spine. I thought about Penelope and Derek’s words, could she really see me like that? Especially after seeing me and supporting my relationship with one of our mutual friends? As I was about to speak up Emily beat me to it. 

“You know, you're someone I look forward to seeing everyday Y/n.” The look in her eyes made my heart skip a beat. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, I swallowed, nervousness and excitement swirling inside me. “Emily…” I look down to hide the grin forming on my face. 

“And I don't want to rush you. I know this isn't where you thought you'd be but Y/n I- I like you a lot. And I underst-” she continued, but before she could finish I reached up pressing my lips against hers. 

Emily froze for a split second before melting into the kiss, her hand coming up to gently cup my face. The world seemed to stop as we stood there, wrapped in each other, my heart pounding in a way I hadn’t felt in so long. It felt like all the tension and unspoken words from the past few months were pouring out between us in that single, tender moment.

When we finally broke apart, she kept her forehead pressed to mine, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t think I’d be this lucky tonight.” I let out a shaky laugh, feeling a surge of emotions that I’d tried to ignore for so long. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again… but here you are.”

Emily smiled, her thumb brushing over my cheek as she pulled me close. “One step at a time, okay? We don’t have to figure it all out tonight.” I nodded, a wave of relief washing over me. “Yeah. I’d like that. One step at a time.”

(Spencer’s Pov)

I stepped out of the bar and caught sight of Y/N and Emily up ahead, walking together under the dim glow of the streetlights, her hand held in Emily’s. My heart clenched. Not being with her has been eating away at me, more than I wanted to admit. She was right about everything—how I took her for granted, how I’d let myself fall for JJ, that I lost sight of what really mattered.

Seeing her now, laughing softly with Emily, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. I’d tried to convince myself that walking away was for the best, that it would be easier on both of us, but watching her find happiness without me made it all feel final. She deserves someone who would make her feel seen, who wouldn’t let her slip through their fingers. And maybe Emily could be that person in a way I never could.

As they turned the corner, I hesitated, realising I didn’t have a reason to go after her anymore, and it ripped my heart out. 

“2 years, and 75 days…”

[hulloitsdani]

Book 2 is done! And damn I forgot how good it is.

Okay before someone lights me up for my next statement, Path of Radiance and Radiant Dawn are some of the best video games written. Period. Not even on the same playing field as other Fire Emblem games in my opinion. And I think one of the reasons why book 2 of Heroes works as well as it does is because it’s taking notes from Path of Radiance. And guys, it’s so god damn fun. Surtr is such a good villain, Fjorm deserves to commit some murder as a treat, and every second Helbindi is on screen is absolute gold.

Hold on I gotta go off about Helbindi actually. He’s a type of character I wish we got more of in FEH as a whole. He purely has his own story going on and never has a real conversation with our protagonists. And it’s a perfect decision. The world feels so much more lived in as a result and it makes his situation all the more tragic. They could have helped him, but why would that conversation ever happen? It’s amazing. Not mentioning that every word out of his mouth is pure gold. Favorite line of the entire book is from him— “I know that you were hoping to be slaughtered by the best, so I crawled out of the depths of hell, just for you!” Like man. MAN. Fucking get it Helbindi.

If his chapter 12 part 3 conversation with Laegjarn (where she breaks the news that his sister is dead) was voice acted and/or given more expressive visuals, it might actually get me! Perhaps make me feel a feeling. Because it’s genuinely heartbreaking! We don’t need the on screen build up of his relationship with his sister for it to be so either. Between his actions and the narrative parallels drawn between himself and Laegjarn, we know. Man it’s really good.

You know who else was fun this book? Anna! Like genuinely! Trusting this lady with my life. She’s got a few scenes that become REALLY interesting in retrospect. First and foremost being, woah book 8 foreshadowing? In my book 2? Fascinating! If you can recall, in book 8 we learn that the Order’s initial purpose was a lot more shady. As in, might have been trained to do political assassinations type of shady. Anna specifically worked for, trains for, and might have actively been in charge while this was still the case. And there’s a line in book 2 chapter 5 part 1 where she says verbatim, “There’s a reason why I’m the commander! If I know one thing, it’s how to sneak a squad through enemy territory…” It is then this skill that makes the Order such a menace within a Múspell occupied Nilf. Despite their smaller size and disadvantage, finding and catching up to them is a genuine issue that Laegjarn has to put a lot of thought into effectively countering. She even likens it to a hunt. We can then assume this propensity for stealth is key to the Order’s survival against a majority of their encounters with divine forces. The problem is that I genuinely don’t recall if this ever gets highlighted again past this point. I don’t think it does, but man it would be so fun if it was. More build up to this reveal please it would be so neat. Anna backstory ever so slowly being ringed out of her over literal years would drive me insane in the best possible way.

I also enjoyed Fjorm a lot more than I thought I would? In recent years, she’s treated more like an anime waifu, for lack of a better way of putting it. And I’m personally not the biggest fan of it. But it turns out she is getting a bit of a Lucina treatment— it’s as if after Grima was defeated, Awakening kept going and Lucina, with her driving motivation gone, was given an arc about crushing really hard on Robin. It’s not a good follow up, but Fjorm in her original story and context is pretty fun! Like her a lot actually! I am so down with helping this girl kill Surtr. Sign me up bestie. Let’s go get you some vengeance.

I also love how her vengeance is framed? This very well might be some left over Fates trauma talking, but it bothers me when the anime war crimes game makes a big deal about how killing people is wrong. Of course it is and it theoretically could be an interesting thing to talk about. But, in order to convince an audience that our protagonists are moral paragons that can do no wrong, there’s sometimes an insistence that no one here is killing anybody. In the anime medieval fantasy war game. I vaguely remember feh itself trying to do something similar at some point in the future, but not with Fjorm. People are dying horribly in this book and Fjorm is killing people. Her quest to kill Surtr comes from a deeply wrathful place and is noticeably self destructive, but no one tries to talk her down. How could they? For multiple reasons, they simply cannot. The most that can be done is Sharena insisting that Fjorm rest before she keels over. Reading it now, I cannot shake the feeling that if there is a world where Fjorm cannot kill Surtr yet somehow survived, she becomes a problem. Hell, she probably becomes a similar monster to Líf.

…oh shit is that point? Oh damn I think that’s the point.

Man book 2 is good.

Truly the only thing dragging this down is the racial undertones, which do make me extremely uncomfortable! It’s the major reason why I don’t revisit book 2 more. Surtr and Helbindi’s designs and characters are fucking fantastic, but god damnit guys the stereotype being propagated here is really not good! Hell, while we’re here, Bruno is also part of this. It’s not screaming it on a visual level like the other two, but come on, the only dark skinned character in the cast at the time is also the one has a curse on a his blood that makes him violent? That’s not cute! Don’t do that!

It’s not really the hardest fix either. Sure, the best case scenario would have been getting a second pair of eyes on that before that was an inextricable part of the final product. But, be honest, would anything really be lost if Nifl’s royal family also had some melanin? Or even some of our main cast? It would mellow out those undertones, that’s for sure. Also darker skinned Hríd and Gunnthrá could be so fucking pretty you guys oh my god. Can you see my vision? The second I have some free time I am drawing that.

Anyway, the consensus is that book 2 is really good and should be way higher on my FEH book rankings. Definitely got some flaws, but it is a great ride from beginning to end.

Um. So. I may have gotten stressed and started transcribing FEH’s story mode. Might currently have all of book 1 written down. Perhaps a third of the way into book 2.

This started as a way to have the preface chapters handy since they’re not replayable. But then I looked on the FE wiki and saw that they only have a small fraction of the chapters written down. And that scared me, because means that my hyperfixation has a nonzero chance of becoming lost media if the app were to go down one day. So now I have all of book 1 in my back pocket, including the preface, two intermissions, and the two relevant xenologues. Once I’m further along and have a few more books accounted for, I have no problem making the document public. But until then I encourage others to also write some of its content down. Just in case, you know? Especially those prologues and Tempest Trials.

With that PSA out of the way, omg book 1 hi!!!! It’s been forever!!!!

Apparently, I haven’t reread book 1 in its entirety since I first played Heroes! I’ve gone back to look for specific scenes and replayed the levels on harder difficulties (self inflicted or otherwise), but I haven’t done a thorough second pass before. Which was news to me, because that meant I was consistently blindsided by scenes and characterization that I completely forgot about! Did any of you remember that Zacharias was apparently Alfonse and Sharena’s childhood friend? I didn’t! But there it is, chapter 7 part 5 after battle cutscene, Anna specifies that aspect of their relationship. That’s crazy! How does the timeline even line up on that??? If he spent his childhood in Askr, how did he manage to have a strong relationship with his significantly younger sister? How did he find himself rubbing shoulders with enemy royalty? Could he have inadvertently met Peony? I’m not changing my takes on his character, but I would love to know.

Speaking of character, apparently seven years spent writing a character naturally changes how they sound! Who would have thought. It made seeing the book 1 versions of our Askr trio a little jarring, but in an oddly nostalgic way! This was a phase of the game where the story, its characters, and its world existed with the singular purpose of introducing new players to what Heroes was trying to do. Which was, at the time, being a cute yet unobtrusive gacha app tie in with simplified FE mechanics to give you that gameplay fix on the go. And to its credit, it does do a good job of this! It ain’t a masterpiece, but I was charmed by its emphasis on showing off all these cool characters you could go summon. Ryoma gets to talk for a few lines and you are going to look at his very pretty art! But that meant that the world and characters of Zenith take a bit of a backseat. They’re not here to be too complicated. The Order of Heroes are the friendly faces that go on adventures and meet these heroes that you can summon for only $19.99. But we all know where the game and its story is going to go from here. That emphasis is going to wane as FEH grows into its own identity (and also earn IntSys over $1 billion worldwide).

But that’s a later development. Before that fundamental shift is where book 1 sits. It’s in this fascinating position where these characters have yet to solidify into their recognizable forms. And if you don’t believe me, chapter 9 part 4 has a scene where Sharena and Alfonse’s roles have reversed. For once, Sharena is posing the cautionary “what if the information we are getting from this total stranger is a trap?”, to which Alfonse responds “nah I’m getting a vibe that it’s fine and that we should believe him whole heartedly.” Like??? Huh???? It’s Bruno, but still, that’s hilarious! Alfonse’s pragmatism bordering on paranoia hasn’t established itself as a massive driver of his character yet. Nor has Sharena’s role as trusting emotional core and moral compass of the group. It was very easy to borderline Mandela Effect it into being there, but it isn’t. Not quite. There are hints, sure, but once again these characters were initially made to be simple at the time. The depth doesn’t quite exist yet.

It wasn’t until I was writing this very paragraph that it finally dawned on me why the Askr trio voice lines, especially Alfonse’s lines, are such a big deal. That's where Alfonse’s character arc with trusting Kiran resides. There's the pragmatism we know and love! It’s not super present in the text of book 1, but the depth of these characters can be found in the voice lines you unlock from building them and earning the crown jewel level 40 conversation. That’s where Alfonse’s arc with his self isolating behaviors crumbles at that sight of one silly tactician. That’s where Sharena finally wins a fight against her own loneliness by forming genuine friendship with this stranger form a strange land, who is appreciative of her loud eccentricities. That’s where Anna apologizes about her initial underestimation of Kiran, thanks them for being more reliable than she could have ever hoped for, and swears that whatever hell may come their way, they’re in this together. The books themselves don’t seem to reflect this characterization until book 2, where they overall act more in accordance with the rest of the narrative. It’s as if they're taking from the voiced lines’ example and extrapolating more on the story they imply.

The one standing in slight contrast to all this is Bruno, as he's the most interesting character in book 1. It's blaringly obvious he's Zacharias, but it's genuinely amusing how deep he is in his own gaslighting. He can't manipulate, mansplain, manwhore his way out of this one folks, but he's certainly going to try! His lies aren't even that good, but it honestly contributes to how at wits end he is. Like, sure honey, I totally believe you that you just killed Zacharias. I bet he has an eight-pack too. Just take a nap for two minutes. But then everyone believes him because our protagonists have yet meld their group braincell. Overall, an amusing time.

I don't have a particular point I'm trying to make with this one. Just having a fun and pointing out the things I've noticed. Might give a little update for every book I complete. However many that will be.