#whether that's in the romantic sense or not

[elysianstarfall]

blue lock boys w/ a super expressive reader (hcs)

summary: your emotions are always written all over your face, and your actions are also a dead giveaway. what does your boyfriend think?

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, itoshi rin

a/n: god i hope this makes sense

i. yoichi

LOVES IT. SO MUCH.

he's always using so much brainpower trying to figure out what his teammates/opponents are thinking

so when he can tell how you're feeling with one look at your face, he's genuinely so happy

his brain is fried, he deserves a break

doesn't mean he doesn't care about you though!!

still has to figure some stuff out, but most of the time he notices your mood and adjusts to match it

you're really excited about something? he tries his best to get into it too

you're lowkey depressed? he softens his voice and listens to you intently

gets you whatever you need

the second he sees you're uncomfortable or something he tries his best to get you out of the situation even at his own expense

will embarrass himself to make you feel better

you always tell him he's the best bf ever but you seriously make it so easy for him to be

b. meguru

"you're just like me fr..."

yeah he's basically the same

you guys literally just sync up by accident

like if one of you is happy, the other one's mood just instantly gets better too??

bluetooth ahh relationship

also, miscommunication? what's that?

you know each other's feelings so well that misunderstandings are pretty much nonexistent

if something's wrong, it's so obvious

like if you're moping he'll make you talk things out with him or tell him what's wrong

same if he's feeling sad

thinks it's adorable when you're excited and your eyes just straight up light up

he just gets a stupid smile on his face which makes you even happier

cue the never-ending cycle of emotions

you guys are so soulmates

n. seishiro

he's so, so grateful

he doesn't have to put in any work deciphering your emotions? sign him up

consider yourself not a hassle!

it's actually perfect for a lazy guy like him

finds your facial expressions really cute

even when you're just voice calling, he can hear everything you're feeling

like when you laugh or when he can hear your smile when you're talking, he can relax

happy gf = he's doing something right

oh but when you're mad...

save him, he has no clue how to fix it

actually scared to talk to you because you look like you're gonna beat him up

and when you don't even look mad, when you act nonchalant and distant and he can't tell how you're feeling?

yeah, he's cooked and he knows it

will give you an apology with tears

he'd rather avoid that so he tries to keep you happy

m. reo

ok idk why they're all grateful but yeah. he is too.

he's been dealing with nagi's unemotional ass for forever, so he's pleased that someone actually shows their emotions and lets him know how they're feeling

finds it really helpful when he gets you stuff since he knows whether or not you actually liked it

like if your reaction is clearly fake as hell he knows not to get you something like that again

he doesn't take it personally ofc, just uses it to refine his gift-giving abilities

really likes it when you're genuinely happy because of something he gave you

you cannot stop him from blowing insane amounts of money on you

in his eyes you deserve it

just let it happen bro

also he's kind of a romantic and he loves seeing your reactions when he does something cliché or stupid

tells you horrible pick up lines out of nowhere and thinks it's so funny when you actually get flustered

i. rin

he couldn't care less.

JK he's secretly very happy

there's only room for one emotionally unavailable partner in the relationship (him)

so at least one of you can tell how the other's feeling!

thinks it's nice that he can tell when you're mad at him

because let's be real he's lowkey insecure

abandonment issues are not for the weak

so when you reassure him and your expressions and actions are backing it up?

he just fell for you even harder

but when you are mad? ouch

he's a "my gf is mad at me i hope i die" kinda bf but he keeps it very lowkey

will just sulk until he gets so sick of you ignoring him or being mean to him that he awkwardly breaks down and gives you a very sincere apology

hopes you never change because he loves you the way you are

[goooofy-goooober1121]

TWST Boys And Their Love Languages

It’s late and I can’t sleep so onto headcanons I go!!! These are pretty general because love languages are for everyone, not just romantic interests :P

My ask box is open!!! Pls pls pls request!! (Just read my guidelines first!!!)

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

- Acts of Service

- Riddle grew up in a shitty household

- I wrote a lot about it here but his experiences with his mother in short left him emotionally stunted

- Therefore I don’t imagine words or open expressions of affection to be easy for him

- Also I believe that the way he was raised greatly impacted his idea of what love— in any form— should be

- Riddle was only ever shown warmth and affection when his actions reflected positively — this made him see affection as only ever expressed/earned through actions, not words or anything else

- I’d imagine that ingrained itself in him very deeply

- Also there’s this one part where at the start of Book 2 he straighten’s MC’s tie and I imagine that’s how he shows he cares for someone (post Overblot at least)

- Quiet moments where he does something that shows he’s paying attention to whoever he’s focusing on

Trey Clover

- Trey tends to take a lot of responsibility for his loved ones

- We see it a lot in Riddle’s overblot, where he laments that he should have done something to stop him or help him before it was too late (it was something like that, forgive me if I’m a little off lol but I’m pretty sure he felt guilt for being unable to help him despite having kept an eye on him for so long)

- This leads me to believe that his love language is expressed through either quality time or acts of service

- Quality Time because he just comes off as the type of dude to enjoy being around those he cares for and sees it as a moment in itself, whether it be at unbirthday parties or just baking something with others

- Acts of Service because like… everything in his character says so?? He spent so long taking care of Riddle (even if it was from a distance)— he definitely feels like responsibility for others is a way of support/affection and service is how he expresses that value

Cater Diamond

- Words of Affirmation!!!

- Sure he’ll say it like he’s reading out an Instagram caption

- but I can for sure see words as his primary love language!!!

- throughout the game we for sure see him to be very affectionate with his words

- but then we also think about what’s underneath him being all cheery and stuff and I think that he may also appreciate Quality Time

- I think he would find appreciation in moments of silence or just times where he gets to spend time with people

- but he won’t be very vulnerable if it’s someone he doesn’t know or trust all that well

Ace Trappola

- Are petty insults a love language

- I feel like he’s a dick but like in an affectionate way

- I mean if I had to choose a serious one tho…

- we know that Ace for sure has a strong sense of justice

- Even if sometimes not for himself but for others

- Like he skipped out on the MC in the prologue but also stood up to Riddle both on his own behalf and the behalf of his dorm mates

- But I also get the impression that Ace really doesn’t like to be alone?

- Like how often do we see him hanging out by himself? I feel like whenever he pops up in the story he’s either with someone or on his way to come see the MC

- Therefore he comes off to me like a Physical Touch/Quality Time type of guy

Deuce Spade (Spoilers for Book 6)

- I’m basing this off the interactions he had with Epel when Epel earned his signature spell

- Idk I feel like Deuce was mad supportive like yasss Words of Affirmation!!!

- He’s also just always been a hype man lowkey

- plus I’m putting Acts of Service for him because he devotes a lot of time to acting better than he was to show his love and appreciation for his mom

- Pro tip: if he treats his mom right he’ll treat you right

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

- Physical touch and Quality Time

- Leona’s a pretty closed off guy, so I wouldn’t say that he would so openly express himself with words

- But I don’t doubt that he shows others that he cares for them by hanging around them all quiet like

- Don’t mention it to him he’ll get pissy at you for pointing it out

- BUT

- here’s where we get to look into lion patterns

- a lion’s main form of expressing affection is through mutual grooming, cuddling, and resting together!

- therefore… me personally…. I think he’s a cuddle bug at heart

Ruggie Bucchi

- Now I could say Acts of Service for him but not for the reasons you think

- I know that a lot of people would say “oh duh because he does everything for Leona”

- And it’s true that a lot of Ruggie’s actions are done because he’s getting something out of it (as seen with his relationship with Leona)

- But love of any kind should not be transactional. If it is transactional, then it isn’t love. That’s just a pattern of behavior

- That being said if we look at his backstories we see that he’s big on taking care of the kids in his neighborhood + his grandma

- So that’s why I’ll give him Acts of Service

- If we want to add a factor congruent with his beastman side, this also sort of makes sense

- Hyenas tend to be more submissive towards their possible mates so if he were to be crushing on someone I’d see it as him doing things for them consistently and then retreating to his own little bubble like nothing happened

- Male hyenas do tend to have this ‘approach-avoid’ style of behavior where they’ll get close/do things to show interest in their mate and then back off so

- Blud would sprint out of there in an instant

Jack Howl

- Another strong/silent type

- we do see that he gets pretty outspoken with words when he’s passionate but he’s also see he’s pretty shy with his vocabulary

- and he also has that whole tough guy thing going on where he acts like he doesn’t gaf (he really really really gaf)

- Wolves on an instinctual level show affection by licking and grooming each other

- But obviously he’s not just a wolf lol

- I’m thinkiiiiiing Quality Time primarily then!! Maybe a dash of Physical Touch

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

- Entrapment

- lol jk (unless?)

- No but seriously. His love language would be gift giving

- I was reading the vignette for his Maquillaville card (idk if I spelled that right) and he had this whole thing where he wanted to choose this antique tea set because he knew it would be a high quality item to provide for his customers

- I believe it would be the same for those he cared about

- And I believe he would also like to show off his success and what he’s earned (it’s an ego thing let him have his moment) especially after all the bullying he endured as a kid

- even if he might be a little stingy

Jade Leech

- Acts of Service

- Like idk he just has the vibes

- He usually looks after Floyd iirc

- and often times is regarded as the more responsible one

- I just think Acts of Service fits him very well

- Even if he’s just as unhinged as Floyd is

Floyd Leech

- Physical touch

- Listen bro he really likes to squeeze

- I think physical touch is a major love language for him, especially with his frequent mood swings

- as someone who also experiences emotions very powerfully sometimes it’s easier to find comfort in touch rather than anything else

- but if he’s in a good mood I think quality time would be pretty valid too!

- would probably drag you along with him to be silly (that means anything from acting stupid or committing several crimes)

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

- Ohhhh boy do I have a bit to say about this

- we could really easily say gift giving and move on cause he’s a rich boy

- but that would be ignoring his actual character lol

- even if he definitely is a fan of giving gifts

- I wrote a little drabble about it here

- Because let’s think about it— Kalim was super sheltered! His only friend was literally Jamil. Like he knew that he could never trust just anyone and was made to accept it all

- Which is why I think the reason he’s so enamored with parties is because he gets to be around people and feel like he’s part of something

- Leading me to believe that at his core, Kalim’s greatest love language is Quality Time

- oh and also physical touch don’t ask why he just has the vibes

Jamil Viper

- Again we could say ‘acts of service’ and move on

- But like is that fair to his character?

- Like Riddle, Jamil was sort of conditioned into a specific way of showing care (even if in Jamil’s case it isn’t genuine) through acts of service

- I can’t help but wonder where that fabricated expression ends and where the real thing begins

- I recall somewhere that his dream, if he were not trapped in servitude, would be to travel the world and study ruins

- And I think that would pair nicely with Quality Time as his love language

- I think that if he were to be close to someone it wouldn’t really be conducive to show his affections through acts of service— especially since most of his exhibitions of this trait are portrayed mostly as obligations rather than nature to him

- So I think that being able to spend time with them instead would be more enjoyable for him

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit

- I think he’s between Words of Affirmation and Quality Time

- We see that he minces no words at all ever

- I think that if he truly cared for someone he would definitely show it through what he says

- Again in his Maquillaville event, I remember him bringing up that him and his dad have designated days to spend time together so they don’t grow apart

- side note that’s really sweet

- anyways

- Since he is so busy being an actor/influencer/housewarden, Quality Time would be a very important love language to him

Rook Hunt

- Stalking.

- oh and Acts of Service I guess

- Rook does things for others when he finds them worth acting for

- therefore he most definitely shows his affection through his actions

- and of course words of affirmation

- he also doesn’t hold back on expressing verbally how much he cares/admires someone so like

- careful he might build a shrine of you

Epel Felmier

- Acts of Service

- Like Ace he has a strong sense of justice

- And he really really wants to prove himself on his own terms

- therefore I think Acts of Service would be best fitted, along with Gift Giving

- like how when someone (I don’t remember who) complimented his apple carving, he was like “oh but I can make you one!!! I can teach you!!!”

- also him bringing all the great stuff from his hometown during the VDC arc

- simply makes sense

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

- He calls you his kitten

- /hj

- I think with Idia he’s pretty shy. So Words of Affirmation might not work with him

- And gift giving may not be super in character for him

- Also he never leaves his room so tf kind of acts of service is he giving anyone?

- If anything I would say Quality Time (he’s in the board game club, so hanging out with people is at least somewhat enjoyable for him + he has Ortho to be near him all the time)

- but I’m 50/50 on physical touch. I feel like he’d either love it or hate it

- Maybe he’s like a cat? Only likes to be touched when he decides he will like to be touched at the moment

Ortho Shroud (strictly platonic)

- Acts of Service

- Hello??? I read this one vignette and two guys insulted Idia in it

- you know what he did???

- HE SHOT A LASER BEAM AT THEM

- AND GOT SAD THAT HE MISSED

- Ortho’s a real one

- No. 1 ride or die

- Definitely an Acts of Service dude

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

- Malleus knows his loved ones will fade away before he does

- Even if it doesn’t fully set in for him until Book 7

- therefore I think he’s Quality Time.

- don’t get me wrong, he would raze entire kingdoms for the people he loves

- but I think that after being lonely for so long and on top of that understanding that everyone he loves doesn’t have as much time as he does, I think he’d want to spend as much time as possible beside them

Lilia Vanrouge (Book 7 Spoilers)

- He’s an old man

- he knows a lot of things

- he’s seen a lot of things

- I think that his style is Acts of Service (he’s willing to do anything, like how he promises he’ll protect Malleus for Maleanora before she died)

- and like Malleus, Quality Time

- he knows he has more time than his human son but less time than his fae son

- so he wants to be around as much as he can before he retreats and lives the rest of his days out by himself

Silver Vanrouge

- I think he most definitely is a physical touch type of guy

- literally there is no other way to describe it than narcolepsy, and that takes away a lot of experiences with loved ones

- therefore I think his love language is Physical Touch because it’s kinda like something you can always do, even when you’re asleep

- I love him :(

Sebek Zigvolt

- yelling

- jk acts of service

- another shy guy

- I think he prefers to show affection through actions

- we see it a lot with how he acts around Malleus

- very devoted

[astrologydray]

Lot of spirit in the houses

the Lot of Spirit in the Houses tells you where your spiritual drive, willpower, and purpose want to express themselves in your life. Think of it as the arena of your soul’s mission.

1st House – The Self

You are the vessel for your purpose. Your path is about self-actualization, owning your identity, and leading from personal authenticity. Your willpower is strong, and you’re meant to inspire others simply by being yourself.

2nd House – Values & Resources

Purpose comes through building stability, wealth, or self-worth. You’re here to create value, manage resources, or align your personal talents with material abundance. Your willpower works best when you invest in yourself.

3rd House – Mind & Communication

You fulfill your purpose through learning, teaching, writing, or speaking. You’re meant to connect the dots, ask questions, and communicate truth. This is the placement of a messenger, content creator, or intellectual voice.

4th House – Home & Roots

Your purpose is deeply emotional and ancestral. You’re here to heal, nurture, and protect, possibly within the family, the inner world, or your emotional foundation. You thrive when your will is rooted in emotional security or a sense of home.

5th House – Creativity & Pleasure

You were born to create, perform, or lead with joy. Your willpower shines through self-expression, romance, and passion projects. Whether it’s art, love, or children—this house is about living out loud and sharing your light.

6th House – Service & Health

Your spiritual mission is about devotion to work, healing, or systems. You thrive when you show up consistently, serve with purpose, and find sacredness in routine. Think purpose through refinement, discipline, and care.

7th House – Relationships & Mirrors

You find your purpose through connection, collaboration, and reflection. Others act as mirrors for your soul’s path. Partnerships (romantic, business, or spiritual) awaken your will and clarify your mission.

8th House – Transformation & Power

You’re here to transform, heal deeply, and confront taboos. Your will is activated by crisis, intimacy, or rebirth. You’re drawn to what’s hidden—power, sex, death, magic—and your purpose often involves deep inner alchemy.

9th House – Truth & Expansion

Your soul craves meaning, travel, and big-picture wisdom. You’re meant to follow your truth, possibly as a teacher, philosopher, or visionary. The will to explore, inspire, or educate fuels your purpose.

10th House – Career & Public Legacy

Your spiritual will wants to lead, achieve, and be seen. You’re here to make an impact in the world and leave a legacy. Career and reputation are directly tied to your soul’s mission. You’re meant to rise and own your power publicly.

11th House – Community & Future Visions

Your purpose is woven into the collective. You’re here to influence change, build communities, and dream up the future. Movements, technology, or humanitarian work may call to you. You thrive when you’re working toward a greater good.

12th House – Mysticism & the Unseen

Your soul’s purpose is tied to surrender, spirituality, or healing unseen realms. You’re drawn to what’s hidden: dreams, intuition, the collective unconscious. Your willpower expresses best through solitude, art, or divine connection. This placement often indicates a karmic or past-life mission.

[mosneakers]

For Love Day, Brick opts for a blind date via Cupid's Corner. He meets a beautiful spellcaster with a pretty stink, named Eva Phantom.

They grab dinner at a little breakfast spot (Brick’s idea, obviously), and they really hit it off. Brick says all the right things and makes her laugh. She's smart, sexy, and has a witty sense of humor—Brick's perfect type. And with Eva being a skilled spellcaster, he doesn't have to worry about his family's strange background freaking her out.

Tragically, Brick begins to feel a sense of unease before their bacon and flapjacks can even be delivered. (And he ordered so much!) He strains to force that magical twinkle he's supposed to feel, but it just doesn't happen. No magic. No pull. No fated mate.

On the brightside, this eagerness to find his fated mate has sparked a different kind of revelation. A self-discovery that most Darlings encounter eventually, whether they welcome it or not: the inevitable emergence of the Romantic trait.

[these-written-reveries]

Midnight Musings

‣ Pairing: Castiel x Reader (intended as romantic, but can potentially be viewed as platonic ?)

‣ Genre: Fluff, comfort

‣ Summary: A letter to you, from Castiel.

‣ Warnings: Vague reference to difficult times and poor mental/emotional wellbeing.

‣ Word Count: 671

‣ A/N: This was originally written on a whim for my bestie @jslittlebirdie, but I've decided to share it with the rest of the world as well. Perhaps other fellow Castiel lovers will appreciate what he has to say.

Y/N,

I can sense you are in need of some thoughtful reminders and perspective, as I know you’ve been going through a particularly difficult time recently that has caused you to slip into a state of jaded oblivion. It is my greatest hope that with the repetition of these words, woven into the letters I write for you while you sleep, that you will someday come to understand them to be true in the same way that I do.

Thoughts of you occupied my mind after you had drifted off to sleep tonight. I suppose that's not surprising news, as I'm always thinking of you, in some shape or form. 

This time, though, as I watched your delicate lashes flutter ever so softly in your slumber, and the way your lips remained slightly pouted while I smoothed a thumb over your furrowed brow—a reflection of the stress that haunts even your dreams of late, I was suddenly hit with a near-overwhelming wave of gratitude. I, Heaven's most abhorred angel—second only to Lucifer himself, am so immensely blessed by the opportunity of not just bearing witness to the beautiful soul and being that is you, but to truly see you, to know you, to love you, and be with you. How and why I've been so generously bestowed this blessing is beyond my realm of knowledge. I certainly don't deserve you–not after all that I've done, but I'm nonetheless grateful I'm here, experiencing every fleeting fluctuation of life by your side. 

You make me feel like all of this, all the bitterness of this world and life on Earth, is worth it. You've made me see that the harsh cruelty of existence is only outweighed by the beauty and love that lies all around and within us; some of it temporary, some everlasting. I see so much beauty and love in you, and it is one of many reasons I cherish you so dearly. 

You are a beacon of hope and solace in this world. I spend my days orbiting you like the planets do the Sun; observing you, admiring you, looking to you for the unspoken answers I've misguidedly sought in every other being, mission, and location before I finally met you. By merely existing as yourself, you answer my questions, soothe my existential woes. You help me see what really matters in this world, and that life truly is worth living, even when it seems so incredibly dismal and burdensome.

All I have to do is look to you, and I am at once reminded of how lucky I am to have a companion to trudge through the darkness with. You are my guiding light, and you are also my best friend. I strive every day to embody these roles for you, as well. I know in the deepest part of my being that as long as we have each other, we can get through anything. So keep holding on, keep fighting. If not for yourself, then for me.

Open your eyes to the beauty and love, big and small, all around and inside of you. It is always there, if you so choose to see it. Observe it, admire it, cherish it, hold onto it. That will be, what I can say with certitude, the crutch and guiding force that will get you through any dark times you may face. 

Remember, you'll always have me, whether it be physically by your side, or watching over you in spirit. I won't leave you alone, and my love for you will carry on far beyond your expiration.

In this vast, ever-changing universe, there remains a constant source of light, beauty, and love to anyone who is lucky enough to experience the magnificent soul that is you. What a blessing you are to this world. How much bleaker it would be without you. How truly lost and deficient I'd be without you. Even when you fail to see it, just know that I never will. 

I never will.

-Castiel

➼ Main Masterlist ➼ Request Info

‣Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @alittlesmartcookie

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for Castiel, let me know by sending me an ask/message, or comment on this post!

[chahaezii]

Hi, first post after awhile but I just want to let people know about my Sung Jinwoo's Headcanons.. please consider hearing me out 🥀

( I present you with a mood board I've created as an introduction )

Okay anyways, moving on.

An Electric Guitar Player.

Okay so, to put this simply. I know It's definitely a common stereotype for some damn reason, BUT I can see him genuinely playing an electric guitar or maybe a bass during his free time. At least, before he became the Shadow Monarch. He'd let Jinah sit near and vibe alongside him as he plays around with his guitar.

A Bike Enthusiast.

Okay yeah you know what? Call me a basic bitch but lowkey, he's giving a bike enthusiast. Yea, canonically he does drive cars often but hey, it's a headcanon for a reason. He definitely enjoy speeding on the highway during late hours, enjoying the vibes when everyone else is mostly asleep.

Late Night Walks Enjoyer.

Oh he for sure enjoy walking around at night, feeling the wind hit his face. The quiet night breeze is the definition of healing to him. He's just an overall "night" person over day.

Hates Reading.

This may sound hilarious, but I feel like he'd get annoyed when he needs to read off paper works or any sort of books. He's not much of a reader. Doesn't mean he can't read of course, he just dislike wasting his time on reading unless it's really important.

Oblivious To Feelings.

We all definitely know that he's smart and all, he can sense danger and predict stuff easily. But, when it comes to feelings? Whether it be his or others, he actually sucks at reading them. Especially if it's romantic feelings. He doesn't know how to take a hint, he never tries to understand the whole "hinting" stuff. He'd rather have things said straight forward rather than him needing to "read" people.

A Decent Listener.

Even though he's oblivious to feelings, if you were to hypothetically talk to open up to him, he's actually quite good at words. He'd pay full attention to what you're saying and try to comfort you after, even giving some light advices if he could think of any.

Enjoys Praises.

He'd fold over praises. Trust me. He of course wouldn't show that to anyone, but if someone he considers close / like praises him? He'd immediately start getting all giggly and shit. Well, at least inside his thoughts. He's pretty good at hiding his emotions so–

To be honest, I have WAY more to share, but it's getting real late here in Malaysia so, I'll consider sharing more IF any of you wants more. I doubt it because I don't think my head canons are all that.

Though I hope at least one or two people see where I'm coming from with these hcs. Thanks for reading if you did finish ^.^

[mrsvante]

A Gentle Kind of Forever

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: ceo au, strangers to lovers, soft yandere

summary: there was always something different about the way he loved you. gentle, patient, like he was studying a language only he could understand. even when you’d parted, he carried you quietly in the soft folds of memory, never once questioning whether you’d return. and when you finally do… he knows. this time, he won’t let you go.

he touches you like you’re made of glass, speaks to you like every word has been rehearsed for years. there’s comfort in his arms, safety in his silence. but behind the calm is a devotion that doesn’t waver, doesn’t yield. It waits, it watches, it binds. you think you’ve come back to something familiar. but you’re stepping into a love that never left. one that’s willing to reshape the world just to keep you close.

warnings: yandere yoongi, obsessive love, possessive behavior, gentle dom, emotional manipulation, surprise pregnancy, breeding kink, voyeurism (hidden cams), soft horror, unsettling intimacy, dubious consent, power imbalance, bittersweet ending, psychological tension, it’s romantic until it isn’t, mind games disguised as devotion, love that holds you too tight..woo 😮‍💨 that was a lot. i like to think i’m getting better at my warnings

word count: 4,336

Like It Was Always Meant to Be

The first time you see him, he’s alone.

Sitting in a faded green armchair by the window in the hotel lobby, legs crossed, cup of espresso cradled in his hands like it’s something holy. His gaze is cast toward the rain slick street outside, but his mind is clearly elsewhere—lost, maybe, or just tired. You notice the scuff marks on his boots before you notice anything else.

He doesn’t look up when you sit a few seats away. Doesn’t move when you unzip your coat or sigh from the ache in your legs after walking all morning through Florence. He’s still, like a painting. One that hums quietly with emotion but asks for nothing in return.

You steal glances, not because he’s beautiful, though he is, but because there’s a softness in him that feels out of place in a city made of marble and gold.

Then, as if sensing your attention, he turns.

His voice is low, rough from disuse. “Rain like this makes the city quieter, doesn’t it?”

You nod, caught off guard. “It’s like everything slows down.”

He smiles—just a twitch of the lips, but it changes his whole face. “Sometimes slow is good.”

******

You exchange names at a corner café two hours later.

Yoongi.

He stirs his coffee three times clockwise, once counter. You try not to assign meaning to it, but your brain’s already making poetry from his hands, the way he brushes his thumb over the cup’s rim like he’s coaxing a memory to the surface.

He tells you he’s here for the quiet. You tell him you’re here to feel something again.

You don’t elaborate. He doesn’t ask.

There’s comfort in that.

******

You run into him again two days later—accidentally, you think, until he confesses he’s been visiting the same bookstore every morning, hoping to spot you.

You laugh behind your scarf, flushed from the cold and the attention. He looks sheepish, but not sorry.

“You’re easy to be around,” he says with a shrug, “and I’m not easy around many people.”

You believe him.

You let him walk with you that day. He holds your umbrella when the rain returns. When you slip on the wet cobblestones, he catches your elbow, his grip firm and careful.

You start calling him your ghost. He calls you trouble.

You like how it sounds in his voice.

******

That night, in your hotel room, you kiss.

It happens slow. He looks at you like he’s giving you time to back out. You don’t.

His lips are warm and unhurried, coaxing yours to part. When his tongue slides against yours, something in your chest caves in. The kiss deepens. You tug him closer by his coat.

He doesn’t rush to undress you. He lays you down on the bed and maps your skin with his mouth—your collarbone, the curve of your hip, the inside of your knee. He peels off your clothes like he’s opening a gift he’s waited too long to touch.

“Okay?” he murmurs against your ribs.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, Yoongi.”

His name tastes good when you say it like that.

When he sinks inside you, you gasp—not just from the stretch, but from the way he looks at you, as if you’re both terrifying and necessary. His movements are slow, controlled, like he’s memorizing the shape of your body around him.

You come with your fingers tangled in his hair, gasping his name into the shell of his ear. He follows with a quiet groan, forehead pressed to yours, breath catching in his throat.

After, he holds you in the quiet.

No music. No TV. Just breath and skin and the sound of rain against the window.

******

Days melt together.

He sketches you while you sleep. You catch him once, and he pretends he wasn’t. But later, you find the paper tucked into your coat pocket, your face rendered in graphite with stunning accuracy. You stare at it longer than you mean to.

He watches you like he’s unsure what’s happening to him.

“I was alone for a long time before this,” he tells you, one night while your legs are tangled together under the duvet. “By choice, mostly. Then you showed up with your terrible Italian and your rain boots and I… forgot how quiet I used to be.”

You kiss him then, not because you know what to say, but because you don’t.

He moans into your mouth. Pulls you beneath him again.

******

The last night, you argue.

You’ve been dancing around it for days—the inevitable parting. Your return ticket. His extended stay.

“You’re leaving,” he says, like it’s a betrayal.

You sit on the edge of the bed, half dressed, hair still damp from the shower. “You knew I had a flight.”

“But it doesn’t have to end here.”

You hate the crack in his voice. Hate the way it mirrors the one in your chest.

“I don’t live here, Yoongi.”

“Then let me come with you.”

You laugh—a wet, sharp sound. “What are we, a story? We fucked and shared a few pastries and now you want to uproot your life?”

He doesn’t flinch. “You think this was just that?”

You bite your lip. His silence wounds more than his words.

“I think,” you whisper, “I was trying to find something here. And I did. But that doesn’t mean I get to keep it.”

His shoulders fall. His jaw tightens. He crosses the room, cups your face in his hands, and kisses you like a man clinging to the edge of a dream.

You kiss back like you’re already mourning him.

******

You don’t say goodbye at the airport.

You just turn one last time, hoping he followed you, hoping the ghost stayed true.

He doesn’t.

And maybe that hurts more than anything.

******

You return to the noise of your life.

Emails. Fluorescent lighting. A bed that’s too cold and dreams that echo with his hands. You find yourself cooking things you only learned how to make because of him. You walk into record stores, hoping to hear the soft rasp of his voice beside you.

You never do.

Until—

Six months later, you open your mailbox and find a small, thick envelope. Inside: a sketch. You, laughing in the hotel lobby. Wearing his jacket.

No return address. Just a note in familiar handwriting.

Still not easy around most people.

Still hoping.

– Y

~*~

Yoongi came to Florence to be alone.

Not in a bitter way—not at first—but in the quiet, intentional kind of solitude that only people who’ve lived too long with noise can crave. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. He booked the ticket after his third bottle of red wine and didn’t bother learning Italian beyond the essentials. He packed light. Brought only one notebook.

He didn’t expect to stay long.

He certainly didn’t expect you.

******

He noticed you before you noticed him.

That first day, when the rain made the city shine like something out of a postcard, he was already settled in the hotel’s lobby, watching water drip from the wrought iron railing outside the window. You walked in, cheeks flushed, nose red from the cold. You dropped your umbrella by the door, shook out your coat, and sighed in that tired, human way that made something in his chest ache unexpectedly.

You didn’t look at him.

He didn’t stop looking at you.

It was stupid, he thought, to feel anything at all. You were just someone passing through. Like he was. Like everyone here.

But then you sat two chairs down, close enough for him to smell the hint of vanilla on your scarf, and all his quiet suddenly felt full of tension.

He told himself not to speak.

Then you looked over at him—just once—and he broke.

“Rain like this makes the city quieter, doesn’t it?”

You smiled at him like it was the first thing anyone had said to you all day. And when you answered—“It’s like everything slows down”—he felt it, too.

The slowing. The shift.

Like something starting.

******

He tried not to get attached.

The coffee shop wasn’t a coincidence, not really. He’d seen you head that way after leaving the lobby and waited twenty minutes before trailing behind, pretending to stumble upon you like fate.

He told you his name. You told him yours.

He felt it land heavy in his chest.

He watched the way your fingers curled around your mug. The way your lips moved when you laughed. The way you avoided talking about where you came from, or where you were going. You were drifting, just like him, and that made him feel less alone.

When you left, you smiled again. That same soft, surprised thing.

He went back to his room and wrote your name at the top of a blank page.

******

He didn’t expect you to show up again.

But when he saw you in the bookstore—hair damp from the drizzle, eyes scanning the poetry section—he knew it was over for him.

He’d spent years building walls no one could see. People thought he was shy, but that wasn’t it. He was tired. Of pretending. Of performing. Of being something for everyone else.

And then there you were, talking to the old man at the counter in broken Italian, your accent a disaster, your smile bright with apology.

He watched you butcher a thank you and laughed out loud before he could stop himself.

You turned. Caught him watching. Raised a brow.

He offered to walk with you.

You said yes.

He didn’t go a day without seeing you after that.

******

He fell in love slowly.

With the way you tilted your face up to the sky when the rain hit. The way you danced around puddles like a kid. The way you made space for him, even when he didn’t ask for it.

You never pressured him to share more than he wanted.

He told you anyway.

He let you in inch by inch—quiet confessions at night, soft touches under blankets, shared silences that meant more than words. You never looked at him like he was too much or not enough. You looked at him like he was there.

Present.

Real.

You made him laugh again.

Made him want to stay.

******

The first time he kissed you, you tasted like lemon and sugar.

He remembered the shape of your lips under his. The way you sighed when he deepened it. The way your hands gripped his shoulders like you’d been waiting.

When he touched you, it was slow. Like prayer. He wanted to give you something that didn’t feel temporary. He wanted to memorize the weight of your body, the heat of your skin, the sound of your voice when you begged him not to stop.

He made you cum with his fingers first. Then his mouth. Then, finally, with his body inside you, moving deep and steady until you cried out his name like it was something fragile.

He whispered yours against your throat. Held you through the shivers.

Stayed until morning.

Then stayed again.

******

He was supposed to leave Florence after a week.

He extended his stay after the bookstore.

He extended it again after the first time you slept together.

And again.

And again.

He sketched you while you were sleeping. Drew the curve of your mouth, the line of your back, the way your fingers curled loosely toward him even when unconscious.

He didn’t show you the drawings. He wasn’t ready to admit what they meant.

But you caught him once. Smiled, even. He wanted to say, I’m keeping you in every way I can, but he only kissed you instead.

******

He knew you were leaving. You’d said so, gently. Mentioned your return flight like it wasn’t going to shatter him.

He tried to play it cool. Tried to pretend it was okay.

But then you started packing.

And he lost it.

“You’re leaving.”

You looked at him like he was being unreasonable. Like the ache in his chest wasn’t valid. “You knew I had a flight.”

He knew.

It didn’t make it easier.

“Then let me come with you.”

You laughed like he was ridiculous.

Like this wasn’t the most real thing either of you had felt in months, maybe years.

“We fucked and shared a few pastries and now you want to uproot your life?”

He didn’t even blink. “You think this was just that?”

He watched the fight drain out of you.

Watched the hurt settle in.

“I think… I was trying to find something here. And I did. But that doesn’t mean I get to keep it.”

He crossed the room.

Kissed you like it was the last time.

Because it was.

******

He didn’t go to the airport.

He couldn’t watch you leave.

Not when he still had your scent on his clothes and the shape of your mouth etched into his memory.

He stayed in Florence another week. Tried to sketch. Failed. Walked aimlessly through alleys that smelled like you.

He finally flew home. Buried himself in projects. Got used to the silence again.

But it didn’t feel like peace anymore.

It felt like a bruise he couldn’t stop touching.

******

He sent the sketch because he had to.

You, laughing in the hotel lobby. Wearing his trench coat.

He didn’t sign his full name. Didn’t include a return address. Just a few lines of honesty scrawled under the drawing:

Still not easy around most people.

Still hoping.

– Y

He didn’t expect a reply.

But part of him still waits for one.

******

He hadn’t been back to the temple in months.

Not since before Florence.

Not since you.

The stone stairs still creaked in the same places. The pines still whispered above the slope, tall and watchful like they remembered every soul that passed. He came for the stillness. For the absence of everything else.

Instead, he found you.

At first, you were just a shape.

A coat too light for the weather. Hair he thought he might’ve dreamed. But then you turned—just enough—and it was you. Blinking up at the shrine, camera forgotten in your hand, lips slightly parted like you were about to say something to the sky.

It hit him all at once. The weeks of silence. The bruising ache of missing you. The months he’d spent trying to forget the exact sound your laughter made.

He nearly stopped breathing.

But he didn’t call out.

Didn’t move.

Just… watched you.

Because some part of him had always known this would happen.

******

You didn’t see him until he was only a few steps away.

Your breath caught—loud in the quiet, like it startled you to realize he was real.

“Yoongi,” you whispered.

He didn’t answer. Just looked at you, searching for proof you hadn’t been stitched together by grief and fantasy.

“I didn’t know if I’d find you,” you said.

His voice was low when it finally broke free. “You came looking.”

You hesitated. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

And just like that, he knew.

You’d run away. Like you always did, he’d learned. But not far enough.

And this time, you came back to him.

******

He brought you to his apartment—a quiet, high rise unit on the edge of the Han River. It wasn’t large, but it was spotless, uncluttered. Like nothing had been touched since the day he left for Florence. Since the day you walked out of his life without turning around.

You stood in the middle of his living room like you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Are you okay?” you asked after a while.

Yoongi tilted his head. “You came all this way to ask me that?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Why now?”

You swallowed, eyes flicking toward the window.

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you admitted.

And he believed you.

But that didn’t mean he trusted you not to leave again.

******

That night, he didn’t touch you.

Not at first.

He made you tea instead. Sat across from you on the floor with the lights low and your knees nearly brushing his.

You talked. Or rather, you did.

About what happened after Florence. About your job, the apartment you hated, the city that didn’t feel like home anymore.

You kept your voice soft, like a confession. Like you were afraid he might turn away if you said too much.

He didn’t.

He listened to every word, heart pounding like a war drum beneath his skin.

Because even if you didn’t know it yet, he did.

You belonged to him.

******

It happened in pieces.

Your fingertips brushing his wrist when you passed him the tea.

Your gaze lingering too long when he stepped out of the shower in only a towel.

The way your shoulders dropped in relief the first time he pulled you into bed beside him—even though neither of you slept.

By the third night, you were curled against his chest, your breath steady against his collarbone, and he knew.

You weren’t just visiting.

You were settling.

******

When he finally touched you again, it was with all the hunger he’d buried.

He kissed you like an addict who’d been promised one final hit. Like he had to memorize you with his mouth before you vanished again.

You melted.

Of course you did.

He knew your body better than he knew his own name.

Every kiss turned into something deeper. Every sigh pulled a little more of your self control away.

When he sank into you, there were no words.

Only you, clinging to him like you’d finally stopped running.

Only him, gripping your hips and staying deep—deep—until you moaned and wrapped your legs around his waist like you wanted to keep him there forever.

He didn’t stop to ask about protection.

Didn’t even pause.

He fucked you slow. Steady. Possessive.

And when he came, he buried himself inside you with a groan—low and shuddering, forehead pressed to yours.

You gasped.

But you didn’t stop him.

You didn’t say no.

You just held him tighter.

******

Later, when your lashes fluttered and sleep dragged you under, Yoongi stayed awake and ran his palm over your stomach.

You had no idea.

None at all.

You didn’t know the things he’d done since you left.

Didn’t know he’d searched your name on every platform that existed. Hired someone to check your last known address. That he’d nearly flown to your city three separate times, just to watch you through a window.

You didn’t know he’d waited for you at this temple three times a month since returning to Seoul.

And yet here you were.

You came back to him.

Willing.

Warm.

Already full of him.

He kissed your shoulder.

“You’re never leaving again,” he whispered.

You didn’t stir.

And that was fine.

He didn’t need your permission.

******

In the mornings, he cooked for you.

Made your favorite drinks. Bought you books you mentioned in passing.

He took time off work. Canceled meetings. Declined invitations. He needed to be home. Needed to watch you.

There was always the possibility that you’d change your mind.

That some other version of you would wake up, remember the life you’d left behind, and walk out again.

But Yoongi was prepared this time.

Your passport was in a drawer only he could open. Your phone mysteriously stopped connecting to international numbers. He told you it was your service provider.

You believed him.

You trusted him.

And every day, he loved you harder.

Made you laugh until you forgot to feel uneasy.

Fucked you until you forgot you ever belonged to anyone else.

******

Weeks passed.

And when the nausea started—soft and slow at first, then unmistakable—Yoongi simply held you in the bathroom while you vomited into the sink.

“I think it’s food poisoning,” you whispered, shivering.

He kissed the crown of your head.

“Maybe.”

But he already knew.

He’d known since the first time.

It had to happen. The universe wouldn’t have brought you back to him if it wasn’t meant to be.

He tucked you into bed, brought you crackers, brushed your hair behind your ear with a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

You curled into him.

Safe.

Unaware.

Exactly where you were supposed to be.

******

The test sat on the edge of the sink like a verdict.

Positive.

Two pink lines, faint but unshakable.

You stared at it in silence. For minutes. Maybe hours. The world around you had stopped making noise, and your own reflection in the mirror felt like someone else’s. Pale. Wide-eyed. Frozen.

Behind you, Yoongi leaned against the doorframe. Watching.

He’d known.

Before you did.

Before your body caught up to the truth.

Now that it was real—now that you knew—it was time.

He stepped forward quietly, like you were a skittish thing that might bolt, and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You flinched at first, but didn’t pull away. Just leaned back into him like gravity had finally found you again.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered.

Yoongi kissed your temple. “You don’t have to do anything.”

You turned your head slightly, eyes meeting his in the mirror. “You’re not… upset?”

His gaze darkened, but not with anger.

“I’ve never been happier in my life.”

******

He became impossibly gentler after that.

Touching your lower back when you stood too long. Waking up early to make you breakfast, even when your appetite was unpredictable. Googling symptoms, ordering prenatal vitamins, whispering to your belly when he thought you were asleep.

You caught him once—half laughing, half serious—telling your stomach, “Grow strong. I want her to feel you.”

You didn’t understand the weight of it then.

But he did.

He felt it every time he looked at you.

Your changing shape became his obsession. The curve of your belly. The softness of your steps. The way your body bloomed with a life that he had planted.

You were proof.

Of desire.

Of fate.

Of the fact that you belonged to him and no one else.

And now the world would know.

******

There were days you panicked. You’d sit on the edge of the bed and cry, asking if this was a mistake, if your life was over, if you were even ready.

Yoongi never faltered.

He’d kneel in front of you and lay his head gently against your stomach, as if it soothed him to feel how warm and alive you were.

“It’s not a mistake,” he said once, voice thick. “This was always going to happen.”

“Even if I hadn’t come back?”

“You would’ve. You were always going to come back.”

His conviction should have scared you.

But it didn’t.

Maybe it was the hormones. Maybe it was how safe he made everything feel. But somehow, his certainty steadied you.

Like he’d already seen the future, and all you had to do was follow him into it.

******

As you grew, he withdrew from the world completely.

Stopped returning calls. Let meetings pile up unread. His company functioned without him, but it didn’t matter. You were his purpose now.

He didn’t need anything else.

You were glowing—he told you that often—and when you rolled your eyes, embarrassed by the weight gain, the swelling, the unpredictability of your moods, he’d just kneel at your feet and kiss your thighs like they were scripture.

“I wish I could keep you like this forever,” he murmured once, tongue brushing slow against the underside of your belly.

You laughed, breathless. “Pregnant?”

He looked up at you with something fierce in his eyes.

“Yes.”

You thought it was a joke.

He knew it wasn’t.

******

The birth came early.

A summer storm had rolled over Seoul in the hours before your contractions started—heat lightning splitting the sky, thunder rolling low like some ancient call awakening the earth.

Yoongi never left your side.

Not for the screaming.

Not for the blood.

Not when your nails dug into his hand or when your tears soaked his shoulder.

He was there.

Even when the doctors pulled the baby from you and you collapsed into sleep, too exhausted to process what had just happened—he was there.

Holding her.

Your daughter.

His.

******

You woke hours later to the sound of lullabies in a soft loop.

Your body ached in places you didn’t know could ache. But when you blinked and adjusted to the dim light of the hospital suite, you saw him—

Yoongi—cradling your daughter against his chest, rocking her slowly in the chair by the window.

She was so tiny.

Wrapped in pale pink and sleeping against his heartbeat like it was the only one she’d ever need.

You said his name.

He looked up.

And he smiled.

Not the small smirk you remembered from Florence. Not the quiet, tight-lipped curve he used when he was trying not to feel too much.

This smile was full.

Free.

Undeniable.

He crossed to you in seconds and gently laid her in your arms.

“You did so well,” he whispered, brushing a curl from your forehead. “You’re incredible.”

Your throat tightened.

You looked down at her face and felt everything shift inside you.

“Her name?” you asked softly.

He kissed your forehead. “Anything you want. As long as it’s ours.”

******

He didn’t tell you about the cameras installed in your apartment back when you’d first moved in with him.

Didn’t mention the second nursery he had built in his private countryside estate—just in case.

Didn’t say he’d already filed the paperwork for sole guardianship under the table, with a judge who owed him favors.

None of it mattered anymore.

You wouldn’t leave.

Not now.

Not when your child looked like him.

Not when she cried and only settled when he held her.

Not when you were still sore and tired and soft, and he was there to carry you through it all.

You were his.

Entirely.

And if you ever forgot that—if some wild, traitorous thought of leaving flickered across your mind again—he’d just point to her.

To the proof.

To the gentle kind of forever he planted inside you.

And you’d stay.

Because where else could you go?

[penig]

For me the really compelling thing about Murderathin is that Gurathin has a vitally important role in MB's life - and the role is friend it doesn't have to like.

The importance of this role, and the degree of load-bearing it does in MB's life, is highlighted by the fact that this is one of only two feelings about someone that MB ever expresses out loud and to the subject's face.

The other is his feeling toward Mensah, which it expresses to her indirectly in the message it leaves at the end of the first book - Dr Mensah, my favorite human - when it doesn't expect to ever see her again and doesn't have to deal with her reaction, so it's a major development when it eventually tells her - apparently in one of those upsurges of fondness we all feel sometimes that have to find expression before we bust open - "I just really like you. Not in a weird way."

But it's just as big a development when it tells Gurathin "I don't like you" in an almost detached identification statement that marks a significant point in its reintegration of itself as a person after it shreds the internal structure of its complicated organic/inorganic brain fighting off the killware attack. And though Gurathin finds this humorous, his response - bumping up his estimate of its degree of reintegration - indicates that he understands the importance of his role, and accepts it.

So the core of the appeal of Murderathin is, to begin with, what does it mean for Gurathin if he's in love with someone who not only cannot love him back in any standard human way, but who would have to abandon an important element of its own sense of personality and autonomy in order to change its way of feeling about him?

No one's ever getting a better setup for unrequited, hopeless pining than that!

And then you factor in things like their actual behavior toward each other. In the later books we not only have Gurathin supporting Murderbot as unhesitatingly as anyone else in PresAux - he's the one unlocking the gate so it can escape the Combat SecUnit on TranRollinHyfa - we have Murderbot protecting him as a matter of course (what does it feel like, when Murderbot throws a firewall up around your augments to protect you from killware?) and calling on him for help with dubiously legal activity on Preservation Station; and even thinking about him occasionally in books where he doesn't appear. They are friends, whether Murderbot likes him or not.

So does that mean that there's a possibility that MB will gradually outgrow the need to dislike him?

Leading to the other thing that happens in Murderathin fic - what happens when Murderbot finds out that its feelings about people (other people! Because it's a person!) can evolve past the tags it assigns them early in their acquaintance? Given Murderbot's inhumanity (positive), is some sort of reciprocity for a pining Gurathin even possible or are the aromanticism and no sex parts a permanent bar to any form of intimacy? If it's not, is that a good thing or a bad thing? If it is, what other ways can its feelings evolve and what, if anything, does that mean for either of them?

This pairing is a gift to ace people out there dealing with questions of how they're supposed to negotiate interpersonal relationships in a world that assumes that Romantic and Sexual Love Trump Everything and are Inextricably Entwined. Hell, I'm no flavor of ace and even I've been frustrated about how the culture I live and write in tries to stuff everything into that box, when I can see for myself that some people are better off living without romantic entanglements, that love and sex are independent variables, and friendship and affiliation are not inferior to romantic love (and wouldn't it be a sad world if they were?!)

And sure, you could do stuff with all that which would be silly at best and offensive at worst. But name me a premise that's not true of? That's why there's ratings, tags, and summaries.

Ha!

Some people have asked in the last 48 hours:

“Like why the hell would anyone ship Murderbot and Gurathin?”

(I like to imagine them like ART clutching its function in Artificial Condition—“Ship Gurathin and Murderbot? That is irrational!”)

So, let me explain…no, there is too much. Let me make a few points:

This really starts out by asking the question: why did Gurathin want to know how the PresAux SecUnit was spending its time? Which is a really odd thing for him to want to know if you think about it.

The SecUnit is, as they have been told, merely a tool: it’s an adjunct to the SecSystem and HubSystem of the habitat, it’s a company device, a tool, a product of corporate surveillance capitalism and authoritarian enforcement. Up until the worm incident some of the PresAux team didn’t even now it had a face. Mensah didn’t want to rent it as part of the bond guarantee agreement, and called it (basically) a “hellish compromise.”

So, the rest of PresAux are in varying states of awareness about what Murderbot is.

In Future of Work Compulsory we get some insight into common knowledge of SecUnits: the workers are unaware they can speak, in fact adamant they cannot:

Asa took her arm gently. “They can’t talk,” he told her.

She [Sekai] shook her head as her friends steered her toward the access bridge. “No, it talked. I heard it.”

The PresAux team know their SecUnit can talk, it gives them a security briefing. Do most of them think this is the equivalent of a recorded message, delivered rote?

Surely Mensah, having seen its face and knowing of its intelligence (that hellish compromise) can’t think it’s anything less than a slave? But that aside: I am talking about Gurathin. And what what Volescu says Gurathin wanted to know:

Then Volescu said, “Gurathin, you wanted to know how it spends its time. That was what you were originally looking for in the logs. Tell them.”

Funny thing to want to know, like do you want to know how your roomba spends its time? Okay, this is Tumblr, possibly the wrong place for this question.

So Gurathin is suspicious, apparently right from the start of the book since on page 33 he first asks it a question:

“What about your systems?”

I would note that Gurathin asks MB two questions about how it is functioning, both just after it does something that goes against its governor module:

The other good thing about my hacked governor module is that I could ignore the governor’s instructions to defend the stupid company. “They’re supposed to be able to, but equipment failures aren’t unknown.”

Next thing anyone says is:

Then Gurathin said, “What about your systems?”

Later:

It was one of those impulses that comes from my organic parts that the governor is supposed to squash. I said, “As the only one here with experience in these situations, I’m your best resource.”

Gurathin said, “What situations?”

This looks to me like someone who either detects that MB is acting unlike a SecUnit should, or even that he can tell a governor module is being defied.

HOW does Gurathin do this/know this? He is after all augmented, perhaps he is detecting something in the feed? In Rogue Protocol when MB is spying on Miki via a drone it has taken over, Miki realises something is up:

Miki didn’t move, still staring into the dark with the opaque surface of its eyes. The feed was clear, it couldn’t know I was here.

Then Miki sent a directionless ping

I think Miki does know (Miki stares at the drone); and I think somehow Gurathin also knows.

This seems to indicate that Gurathin may know more about SecUnits than he’s giving away—but whatever: this is someone who has been closely watching Murderbot.

Like, really closely.

I think an absolutely reasonable reading of ASR is that Gurathin has a bit of a fixation on this SecUnit, and it’s a fixation that started before the worm incident.

He’s watching this piece of company equipment with unusual intensity.

I am happy to headcanon that this started with the security briefing, that Murderbot couldn’t keep its feelings out of its voice. I mean, can you imagine Murderbot doing the in-flight safety announcement on the plane? It brings to mind project mayhem’s replacement safety handouts…

Did Gurathin hear Murderbot’s real voice bleed through? Cynicism and sarcasm, a dose of irony?

It’s a thought. He never seems to doubt it’s a person. The fact that Rathhi says: “This is no more a machine than Gurathin is—”perhaps says something about how he sees Gurathin too.

I would note that Gurathin and Ratthi aren’t friends in All Systems Red—something which surprised me a little (I didn’t think they got along as well as they do in later books, but when I looked into it I was surprised!

Gurrathi Meta

So when the team heads off to DeltFall Gurathin is very suspicious and watching SecUnit, which it reports upon but doesn’t seem to spot the significance of—which is rather unlike our paranoid Murderbot.

Gurathin is the only member of the team not to express enthusiasm for MB going on the trip.

Gurathin was the only one staying behind who didn’t say anything

MB is actually about to start poking around to figure out what Guarthin is up to when the feed drops out (probably trying to figure out what’s wrong with it).

If anything I think Gurathin acts oddly about his rogue SecUnit suspicions.

If he knows SecUnits he will probably have heard the propaganda, which MB believes:

To quote MB: “I sure as hell would have reported me. Rogue SecUnits are fucking dangerous, trust me on that.”

I wrote a little essay on how Gurathin is right about a lot of things when it comes to Murderbot:

Gurathin was right

(It’s called that because he is)

Perhaps the strangest thing is that he just tries to immobilize it, and then makes his case. He doesn’t try and have it shut down whilst “unconscious”, and doesn’t even mention the (fairly critical information) until pushed. Gurathin’s expression was stiffer than usual. “This Unit has killed people before, people it was charged with protecting. It killed fifty-seven members of a mining operation.”

At this point MB believe this is true, and it lies to the diary about it, by omission at any rate: “What I told you before, about how I hacked my governor module but didn’t become a mass murderer? That was only sort of true. I was already a mass murderer.”

So: I honestly don’t think Gurathin’s behaviour here makes a whole lot of sense if you read it in a lot of ways—the way I think it makes more sense is that he is fixated. This could be sexual: perhaps when:

[Gurathin] said, “Why don’t you want us to look at you?”

My jaw was so tight it triggered a performance reliability alert in my feed. I said, “You don’t need to look at me. I’m not a sexbot.”

Well—perhaps MB is picking up something about the way Gurathin looks at it?

My personal reading is that Gurathin has become obsessed, an obsession perhaps sparked by MB’s anomalous behaviors? He is watching it intensely. It doesn’t have to be sexual, humans can get fixated without sexual attraction.

And then he so quickly accepts the rogue unit into his team! It holds him up against the wall by his neck (I mean, wow—one of the most intense bits of physical contact in the book). But Gurathin is rapidly team SecUnit: and he never sees it as “not a person” he isn’t kidding when he says.

(“I do think of it as a person,” Gurathin said. “An angry, heavily armed person who has no reason to trust us.”

“Then stop being mean to it,” “Ratthi told him. “That might help.”)

Gurathin and SecUnit work together to overcome GrayCris, Murderbot even grudgingly admitting Gurathin’s help:

“Gurathin had figured out how to use the hack from their HubSystem into our HubSystem to get access, but he needed to be close to their habitat to actually trigger their beacon. ”

“(Last night Gurathin had said this was a weak point, that this was where the plan would fall apart. It was irritating that he was right.)”

So: that’s some of the reasons from the first book, All Systems Red

[followmybadreligion]

Thinking about a vacation w your obsessed bf!art…

From the second he told you about it and then on, you were bouncing off the walls. While you’d already set the boundary with Art about these kinds of trips, limiting them to every so often instead of nearly every day like he preferred, it was still so exciting when he’d send you that “Flight leaves at 8 am baby. Get packed up :)” text.

Art’s definitely the “let me take care of it while you look pretty,” type of guy, but only when it comes to you. Flights, transportation, Air BNB— all handled before you even know a trip is happening. He’s a firm believer that his girl shouldn’t have to stress about anything, especially if he could help it.

Once he gets all the technicalities figured out, like which cities y’all are visiting, what y’all are doing on each day and all that other stuff, he can start focusing on the more fun things. Fun things like you guy’s wardrobe, or couple pictures, or instagram captions, because best believe he’s showing the world his baby looking all good on their vacay. He literally becomes your built in photographer; angles, backgrounds, lighting— he’s got all that. All you have to do is dress cute and pose for him.

On your first few trips, you were a bit self conscious about doing this. You knew that he wasn’t judging you, and that to him all of your pictures were good ones, but still, you couldn’t stop the nagging fear that you’d do a weird face or pose that turned him off. He was quick to pick up on your self consciousness though, so he tried the method he knew best; affirming.

“You look so pretty, baby,” he’d whisper, smiling softly with his phone camera held out. You smiled up at him in response, sunlight plastered across your face, giving him the most perfect frame. He’d snap a few at a time, taking a second to look over them in awe before turning his phone towards you with a soft, “See?”

Even though his words failed to erase all your insecurities— stop you from sucking in your stomach or turning you head away him his view— they did make you feel a bit more comfortable, actively combatting the negative notions you had. He just had this way of speaking that made you believe him. You knew Art— he would never lie to you— and if he could see you so beautifully, then you could see yourself that way too, which eventually made these little photoshoots fun in a way.

You had the most fun with your couples pictures, though. Art would try his hardest to look stoic and manly in the first few, like this looming protector of yours who’d fuck anybody up behind you, but the more and more that you moved him, positioning him different ways or making him do different things, the more his facade fades away into one of a lovesick puppy.

The second you plant even the smallest kiss to his lips, holding it for a few seconds to snap a few pictures, is the second his lopsided smile breaks through and he’s hazy-eyed for the rest of your shots. It’s heart warming, in a sense, to look back and see him looking at you with stars in his eyes, so content to be in paradise with you.

Speaking of paradise, that man is going to have you in a food-inspired heaven.

Art loves to feed you, whether he’s cooking himself or taking you out to eat some place, so it wasn’t a surprise when he’d planned a good amount of your meals for the trip in advance. Only the best restaurants, on the days you ate out, and only his best dishes when he cooked for you on his own.

It was his excuse to be extra romantic with it, too. Every chance he got, he was holding up a delicacy for you to enjoy. That fancy wine and cheese spread he made? He’s hand feeding you dressed crackers until your full. Cute pastries he picked up for breakfast? He’s cutting into them and holding it out for you like second nature, just waiting for the cute little moan you released whenever you were satisfied.

The sweetest boy imaginable, fr :)

[shouts-into-the-void]

Taiju and Yuzuriha have loved each other for 3,705 years and Tajiu's desire to tell Yuzuriha kept him conscious for the entire time he was petrified

Senku trusted without a doubt that Taiju was still alive and that he would be conscious enough to break through the stone without Revival Fluid, with no evidence to back it up

Yuzuriha used to pay attention to all of Senku's science lectures and he turned the science flag she made him into the symbol for the Kingdom of Science

Chrome literally spent his entire life rediscovering science and beat the second strongest warrior in the village to try and heal Ruri

Even while leading opposite sides of a war and trying to kill each other, Tsukasa and Senku considered each other best friends and they know each other so well they can predict the other's behavior

Gen, even before he'd met or decided to side with him, had already grown an incredible fondness for Senku and went so far as to condemn his soul to hell (his own words) to further his goals

Kohaku had complete trust in Senku immediately, despite never having heard of half of the things he talked about past the negative association with sorcery and is one of the only people to notice how much he actually misses his dad

[ttroubledwaters]

"I'm gunna write an au marauders fic" ok, ur only rule is sirius and james are involved in some way shape or form and it has to be the most co-dependent relationship you've ever written

[sapphic-bats]

Just so you know, stsg are the Achilles and Patroclus of the jujutsu world.

[vampiric-fangirl]

^ me when i have religious trauma and self-worth issues that revolve around believing i am nothing more than a weapon to be used so i attach myself codependent style to the first person who shows me kindness/gives me attention/makes me feel like i'm worth something and devote myself to becoming perfect for them and supporting them and serving them and making them happy in every way i can for the rest of my existence (if they die, i will feel like i have not only lost everything but also myself, entirely). because that's the only purpose i can ever imagine myself having. because i have religious trauma and self-worth issues.

for better or for worse.

[topaz-carbuncle]

"To be loved is to be known" is a quote that I've been thinking about a lot recently, especially when it comes to how well that quote can work with garrus and Shepard's relationship. Both platonically and romantically.

Even before his romance, from the moment you recruit garrus, he's checking up on Shepard without any prompting. "Frankly, i'm more worried about you. Cerberus, Shepard?" He knows that Shepard wouldn't be working with them without a damn good reason, so he accepts whatever reason Shep has, instead choosing to voice his worries and rejoin Shepard as if those 2 years never happened. He trusts shepard enough to join a potentially dangerous workplace, knowing shepard would not allow anything to happen to him.

Not to mention that Shepard didn't exactly get to officially ask Garrus to join the crew, he just woke up in a new Normandy med bay and they both knew he would be there until the end. No Shepard without Vakarian, and all.

In mass effect 3, regardless of romance or bro/femshep, Garrus is the one to get Shepard to rest after Tuchanka. He knows that besides Earth, losing Mordin was the first personal hit that Shepard has taken since the war started. Being a pessimist, he is also more than aware that it won't be the last and that there's only so much that platitudes can do. So he does what he can, reassuring Shepard that he will keep an eye on things (unromanced) and will wake her (romanced) if anything happens. He knows the stress and burden that's been placed on her, so he does what he can to lessen it just enough to get a few hours of sleep.

My personal favourite romance scene in the 3rd game is the conversation with him after Thessia, despite Shepard's worsening mood when speaking to the crew post-mission, he continues as normal. He doesn't make a huge deal out of the mission and instead, Shepard is met with relief with the news about his family, critical thinking when discussing the call he made, then sharing her own thoughts before allowing herself to receive his comfort.

Garrus knows what Shepard needs in these circumstances, he's always there to give her the truth as well as to reassure her. "But humans want to save everyone. In this war, that's not going to happen." , "I tend to expect the worst, anyway." and "Before a certain turian with no romantic skills to speak of tries to cheer you up?"

He doesn't sugarcoat his thoughts, he doesn't downplay anything for her sake because he knows she needs someone to be that rock for her.

It goes both ways as well, especially if you view the outcomes of Garrus' loyalty as Shepard acting on behalf of what Garrus will need vs what he wants if you talk him down from taking the shot. Shepard knows that Garrus is standing on a thin line between getting justice for his team or acting out of revenge. She knows that shooting sidonis won't undo the hurt and will just be another body piled on top of it all, this time the blood actually being on his hands.

Or, if you prefer the renegade path, Shepard knows that Garrus needs to take out the final thing keeping him tied to Omega. That Garrus needs his team to be avenged so that he can stop carrying those souls with him and finally put them to rest.

It's such a brief discussion, but after recruiting him in me3, shepard is also very quick to ask about his family and then reassure him that they will be okay. After everything they have been through (not even just with the reapers) and all the losses they have collectively endured, she still doesn't hesitate to comfort him when it comes to his family.

I just love these two and their relationship so much

[accio-victuuri]

[hibernating-stag]

Thinking about how Venom and Robo-Ky started out as two deeply lonely individuals that ended up fitting together so well that they became two halves of a whole and getting emotional about it. Getting weepy. Misty eyed even.