#i already have two birds and im acting like this

[greennymphs]

god i love birds so much

the way i cant stop smiling when i see cute little parrots

i love how they close their eyes when theyre comfty cuddling you or getting scritches

their feathers are so soft ugh

[qlossytbh]

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 in which you and spencer almost say i love you four times and one time where you actually do.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 16+ minors dni!, fem!reader, established relationship, spencer is down bad, so is reader tho, idiots in love, they’re both lowkey rlly hormonal bro, pet names (love, handsome), this one’s a rollercoaster, fluff, angst, lots of suggestiveness because reader likes to tease lol, allusions to smut (didn’t actually write it tho sorry!) fighting, spencer kinda acts like a bitch, makeoutshesh, mentions of reader being insecure of her physical appearance, mentions of typical cm content, mentions of blood, mentions of reader getting hurt, protective!spencer, derek and reader have a cute friendship, lots of mentions of maeve so spoilers on that end, pls let me know if i forgot anything!!!,

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 8.1k (damn)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 so i had many cute loose concepts and i kinda meshed it all into one fic. this is also loosely based on birds of a feather by billie eilish! im in love with this piece ugh

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The first time

“You look different,” Derek mumbled, mostly to himself, but loud enough to catch on. You turned towards his voice. The only thing different was that Hotch had let you come in later than your usual schedule since you had a random doctor's appointment— Oh, and the recently purchased light-blue button up you were wearing.

Your brows furrowed at Derek, one hand adjusting the strap of the purse that hung loosely on your shoulder as a light brown bag sat comfortably in the other. “Different..?”

Emily followed Derek, joining in as she glanced over at you from her own respective desk. “Actually he’s right,”

“I’m wearing a new shirt..?” You fiddled with the first button of your shirt, pursing your lips in bewilderment.

“No—“ Emily squinted at you. “It’s something else..”

Your mouth hung slightly open, not really sure how to respond to their prying eyes. They both were glancing at you, then at each other, then you again, but this time up and down—

“I hope it’s a good difference,” You commented as you waltzed past them and towards your boyfriend's desk. Spencer was hunched over at his desk, eyes practically burning holes into the files that sat in front of him.

His lips were pursed familiarly, just like he always did when he was so concentrated, along with the familiar furrow in his brow. His hair was tousled, a strand or two falling flat in front of his forehead. He looked so good it made you dizzy.

An instinctive smile had already reached your face once you made it to his desk. You leaned over him, slapping the brown bag on top of the files he was reading. He flinched slightly, but nevertheless, was finally pulled out of his deep concentration pool. You placed your palms on his shoulders, running them down his chest as you leaned over to hug him from behind.

You placed a kiss underneath his ear. “Hi handsome,”

He sank in his desk, realizing it was only just you and immediately easing. He hummed placidly, entranced by the sound of your sickeningly sweet voice. You pulled away to which he took the opportunity to glance over his shoulder at you.

You gave him a soft smile, one you used that made his heart soar. How your eyes grew lenient and lips curved gently upwards as you scanned as much of his features as your brain could possibly take in.

You placed both hands on his shoulder and nudged your chin towards the bag. “Brought you your favorite,”

His hands were already on the bag before you could say anything else and when he looked inside he was in fact correct on his suspicions when he saw two chocolate sprinkled doughnuts.

They smelled heavenly and he knew they were enough to cure his very major and very much present sweet tooth he had woken up with this morning. A large uncontrollable smile slapped right onto his face as he opened his mouth. “I—“

He stopped, clamping his mouth shut abruptly.

Thank god. He swallowed those three words that had nearly left his mouth, pushing them right back into the back of his throat before the damage could be done.

It wouldn’t necessarily be the first time this week where he let the confession accidentally slip. He realized that as of recently, he would catch himself with more and more of a necessity to tell you how he felt.

The two of you started seeing each other romantically about six months back. It was completely out of nowhere when he asked you out for the first time. The second— and third, and fourth and continuing times after were more than expected.

It didn’t take much for the two of you to realize how much of an importance the other partook in your day to day basis, even despite being friends for so long prior to the dating.

And everyday he saw you he felt this big tightening in his chest that made it actually impossible for him to breathe. He felt all this pent up emotion that was getting harder for him to manage with every passing day.

It scared him, how much he cared about you. How much he wanted you to be a part of his everyday life and how much he wanted to tell you how it made him feel— how you made him feel.

But that fear was exactly the reason why he’d clamp his mouth shut every single time he felt like he wanted to tell you.

“I—uhm,” He cleared his throat. “Thank you, really I—“

You watched him, titling your head to the side with a prying gaze. “Have I ever told you how amazingly perfect you are?”

You purse your lips, leaning over his shoulder and pretending to be deep in thought. “I’m not sure— I think you’re gonna need to jog up my memory.”

He shook his head, huffing a laugh as you leaned down and pressing a long kiss onto his lips. You hummed in contentment, feeling the fuzziness in your chest reach every nerve in your body.

“Hey,” You pulled away, glaring over at Derek from Spencer’s desk. “Calm your hormones or I’m telling Hotch to hit HR up,”

“Actually hormones aren’t something you can consciously control, they’re a biological response to situations we find—“ Spencer quipped, earning a loud groan from Morgan.

You rolled your eyes, looking down at Spencer and reaching a hand up, running it ploddingly through his thick brown curls. “Are you coming over tonight?”

He nodded. “Yeah,”

“Looking forward to it,” You pecked his lips once more. Before rounding his desk and making a b-line for your own.

Spencer scanned you up and down as you waltzed away, not realizing you were wearing the shirt you bought last weekend. The one that enhanced the beauty of your hair and skin color, mapping a perfect picture he wanted to get lost looking at. He also couldn’t fail to avoid the way the shirt deliciously hugged every curve and bump your body had to offer. And those dress pants—

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning internally. He then thumped his forehead onto his desk, cheeks blazing with heat, knowing he was more screwed than anyone in this whole building, a lost cause if you will.

As you strutted past Derek and Emily’s desk towards your own, Emily gasped loudly. “I think I finally got it,”

“Yeah, I completely agree with you,” Derek followed. You looked at them both quizzically.

“Could it be?— No,” Emily gasped once again and you immediately noticed that it was fake, alarming you of whatever game they were getting at.

“Yeah, I think it’s finally happened.” Derek leaned back in his chair, clicking his tongue and smirking over at you. “Pretty girl here is in love,”

Your cheeks turned hot, as your eyebrows shot up defensively. “What?”

Derek liked to say the two of you were still in your ‘honeymoon phase’ and you couldn’t disagree with him— it was the most accurate description of your relationship with Spencer.

But saying in love triggered something— physically and emotionally.

“No wonder she looks so different,” Emily tutted. “She’s got that ‘happy in love’ glow to her.”

“Shut up,” You have the strap of your purse on a death grip as you opened your mouth to protest but failed miserably as all the words died in the back of your throat. Thank god Spencer seemed preoccupied with the donut you had just given him.

“I’m—“ You shuffled, slapping yourself internally. Way to give it away. “You guys need to find a better hobby.”

And with blazing cheeks, a dry throat and a concerning pattering heart blaring against your throat, you stalked your way back to your desk.

The second time

“But that isn’t fair Spencer!” You groaned, gripping your bag as if your life depended on it. “You can’t expect to save everyone and then blame yourself when it doesn’t go well,”

There had been a sensitive case today, clearly an unsuccessful one. Spencer, like usual, jumped at the first opportunity to start blaming himself— for not being quicker, for not being smarter.. Whatever reason he could nitpick at, he was currently doing so.

You tore your purse off your body and tossed it into a small basket by your front door. You roughly tore your heels off, slightly relieved at the feeling off the palms of your feet on the wooden floor.

“There were flaws in the profile— flaws in the geographical profile,” He huffed, frustrated, filling every fiber of his words. He tore his satchel off his body, grabbing his files from it prior and slapping them onto your coffee table. “We couldn’t even correctly pinpoint the Unsubs M.O before he started sadistically killing again, we couldn’t—“

You felt for him, you truly did. Spencer was one of the most kind hearted, considerate people you knew, but that came with a lot of self-demands. He had to be everything at once, and be there for everyone at once and if he didn’t reach the bar he’d set up for himself, this would happen.

He pushed past you and towards your kitchen. “Spence, we aren’t going to solve every case, no matter how good our work may be.”

“You think I don’t know that? The average percent of homicides cleared or "solved" is 60 to 65 but around 35 to 40 percent go unsolved.” You opened your fridge, grabbing a pitcher of water and grabbing a glass from your cabinet as you listened to Spencer.

“35 to 40 percent, do you know how high that is?!” He stressed. You realized his irritation was heavy because he was reaching his peak of rambling.

Spencer just couldn’t stand when things like this happened. When people did horrible things and got the luxury of roaming free— he couldn’t help but feel like he was at fault for that. If he was just quicker, or smarter maybe they would’ve caught whatever bastard was terrorizing people.

“I know you know that!” You huffed a breath of frustration. “But that’s the way this job works Spence!”

“What would you know about how this job works?” He turned, hot on his heels, facing you with an indescribable exasperation pooling around his eyes.

You stopped in your tracks, looking up at him sharply and setting the still empty glass of water and pitcher back onto the table “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes were deeply upset— cold and hard and so much different from the soft and welcoming gaze of your partner. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about being a profiler. You joined the team around three years after the rest of us.”

You stared at him with incredulity. When in a relationship with somebody, as well as learning all of their admirable virtues, you also learn their defects. And one of Spencer’s defects was that he had no filter whatsoever when he got angry. He just said the first thing that came to mind and spit it out and towards whichever person was unlucky enough to fall victim.

Not that the two of you fought often because you quite literally never did— but you’d see him pissed at people and his petty side sometimes felt the need to make an appearance.

You, however, had never had to experience this firsthand. You’d seen it happen at work, with JJ, with Derek, with the press. But two of you had never spoken to each other the way you were doing now. And if he thought you were gonna let him slide, he’s got another thing coming.

“What about Rossi?” You challenged as you crossed your arms across your chest. “I was accepted into the team just months after he was, you’re gonna tell him he wouldn’t know the first thing about being a profiler?”

“That’s different—“

“How?” Your veins were pumping with adrenaline. Your fingers shook violently, and the back of your throat suddenly burned with the need to cry. “I had jobs before getting called into the BAU, and I busted my ass off in college—“

“It’s not the same!” He spat. “You had never worked with the team before, it took you months to learn how we processed things, how we handled them.”

You could visually see Spencer bite down on his tongue only now attempting to reel himself down back to earth. And if you didn’t know him better, you wouldn’t be able to recognize the identifiable regret that appeared in his eyes while you continued on.

“And who are you to hold that against me Spencer?”

He swallowed thickly and let out a heavy sigh. You ran a frustrated hand through your curled hair. “All i’m saying is that—“

“I know what this job is like, which is why I’m telling you to get out of your goddamn head.” You didn’t scream at him, but there was a firmness in your voice that could scare practically anyone off.

“The things that have happened, happened today or will happen are never going to be in our control,” You told him. “Never.”

“Just because you’re angry and pissed does not give you a free card to attack me,” You slammed the glass cup onto the counter and pushed past him, making your way out of the kitchen. Spencer didn’t follow you to your room, he knew it wasn’t a smart idea.

So as your bedroom door slammed shut, he stalked over to your couch, opening up the paper files onto your coffee table, and rerunning them once again. He wasn’t able to concentrate at all though, knowing you were in the other room tossed in bed and probably crying because of him.

A few long hours later, Spencer closed his files and looked over towards your door. There had been no noise emitted whatsoever from your room, which he wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

He felt like an idiot. Presumably so, he was so stupid for just lashing out like that on you. Your intentions were never ill intended, yet he still pushed you away and he hated himself for that.

He stood up, making his way into your kitchen and grabbing the empty glass. He poured some water into it and went over to your door.

You were lying down, blankets wrapped around you protectively as your back faced him. He couldn’t help but smile, feeling the endearment tighten in his chest.

You stirred in your sleep as the bed sunk beside you, groaning softly. Spencer hovered over you, setting down the glass of water on the nightstand beside your head.

“Hey,” His voice was very soft, maybe even enough to send you back into the nap you were in— until you remembered what had happened earlier and thought that maybe talking to him was a better idea.

Your eyes burned and your head hurt. You sniffed away the buildup that the crying had caused. You then blinked away the grogginess from your eyes, along with the slight burning sensation due to the tears you had shed earlier. “Hey,”

Your sleepy voice was enough to send Spencer into a whirlwind. It tugged at the strings of his heart and all he wanted to do right now was grab you in his arms and hold you there forever.

He laid on his side beside you, running a soft hand across your arm with the encouragement for you to turn around and face him.

A slight sense of anxiety was coursing through him. He was scared that a part of you was still mad at the way he spoke to you, and the worst part was that he couldn’t blame you, because he had in fact acted like an idiot.

You blinked up at him from over your shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Around nine?” You hummed, flipping on your side and turning to face him. Spencer slapped at the nerves inside him and shifted slightly in his position.

“Hey,” He reached his hand over to yours and intertwined his fingers with your own. “Were you crying?”

“Yeah,” His tone hadn’t been patronizing or ridicule intended, it was more so concerned. You reached up to rub your eye.“You were pretty fucking mean.”

Spencer wanted to kick himself. Truly. There wasn’t anything else to say but how utterly stupid he had been for causing you any type of harm when his main promise was to prevent you from any of it.

“You should drink some water,” He lifted himself up by his elbow, hovering over you again and reaching for the glass.

“I’m not thirsty,” You mumbled, snuggling closer into your pillow.

“You should still drink love, you haven’t had a single drop of water since we got here and you’re probably dehydrated,” You didn’t look at him. “I added those watermelon electrolytes you like so much.”

You peered at the glass, suddenly feeling deathly thirsty. With a huff, you reached for the glass. “Fine,”

You downed the whole drink in a matter of seconds, melting at the taste of the sweet watermelon tartness on your tongue. Once you finished the glass, you handed it back to Spencer who set it on the opposite nightstand.

“Can we talk?” You nodded. “I’m sorry,”

You looked up at him, opting him to continue. “I shouldn’t have snapped the way I did. You were trying to help me, and by attempting to push you away I said stuff I really, really shouldn’t have and I’m so sorry,”

With a few seconds of silence, you reached down, intertwining both of your hands. Your thumb glided over his knuckles as you listened to him.

You mumbled. “It’s okay Spence,”

He shook his head. “It’s not, honestly. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.”

Yeah, good point.

“I know,” You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “But you said that you're sorry and next time we’ll learn how to manage these things a little more efficiently.”

You quickly pulled his arm over your body and scooted forward, too tired to dwell in an emotionally exhausting conversation, nuzzling your face into his neck while his arms instinctively tightened around your frame. “We’ll get the hang of this, okay?”

There was silence after that. One that could’ve been filled by anything, honestly.

Those three words were all you wanted to say right then and there. It had been on your mind a lot recently, how Spencer was making you feel a ton of scary and big and complicated feelings— all amazing but terrifying. And those three words felt the most accurate when it came to telling him how you felt about him.

You really wanted to tell him at that moment. You don’t know where the necessity came from but it hit you like a tidal wave. Strong and capricious. Uncontrollable almost.

But then the fear settled in and you’d obstruct yourself from doing so.

So you didn’t say it, even though you may have wanted to.

Instead you just held him tighter and nuzzled into him as close as you physically could, hoping that somehow the message would get across. He placed a kiss onto the crown of your head. “Okay.”

The third time

You smiled into the kiss, tugging at his hair as you leaned back, supporting yourself solely on his grip around your lower back. Your legs rested on either side of him, sitting in his lap while his hands raked across your back in a way that made you feverish.

His lips moved swiftly across yours. He squeezed your hips, fingertips slipping just slightly underneath your shirt. You shivered at the contrast of his cold fingertips against your blazing skin. Spencer pulled away, voice breathy. “Is this okay..?”

“Yes,” You whispered back before pulling him onto your lips again.

Your relationship with Spencer was something that made your heart feel so light and airy— something so pure and easy. It made you grow dizzy just thinking about his hands on you and all the sweet things he’d whisper in your ear constantly. How he was always so considerate and sweet and perfect.

You were staying the night at Spencer’s apartment, too tired to drive back to your own apartment after work. But some things lead to others and well— yeah.

When having to restrain so much physical contact at work, strictly wanting to remain as professional as possible, you could merely blame yourself for needing him like this once back at eithers apartment.

You hummed against his lips, raking your hands slowly through his hair. The kissing hadn’t stopped for the past half hour or so— honestly you lost track of time.

Spencer pulled away breathlessly and placed a few messy but calculated kisses on your jaw and neck. You smiled almost stupidly. He pulled away, looking at your dozy face and feeling his chest tighten.

Your lips were slightly pinker than usual, and puffier. Your hair was just slightly tousled while your cheeks glowed a beautiful red hue. Your fingers remained tangled in the locks of his curls.

“You look pretty,” He was saying that as if it was another one of his scientifically proven facts, as if no one could say or believe otherwise. You tucked a small curl that had slipped onto the side of his face behind his ear, humming passingly. However, you never found his eyes, only focusing now on the curls that sat comfortably framing his face.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed, fiddling with the hem of your loose shirt. “You do that often,”

You look down at him, questioning him with a hum. “Do what?”

“Overlook the things I say when I compliment you,” He remarked. “Like you don’t believe me.”

You still didn’t move your attention from his curls. You didn’t believe him most of the time.

You weren’t an insecure person, not entirely anyways. You put a lot of focus on your physical appearance, always maintaining your clean look intact to the public eye. To many, you were considered extremely attractive. But unlike popular belief, you had many insecurities that you always tried to overlook. Sometimes it was hard though.

It was just hard for you to understand how he saw you so perfectly, like you had not a single flaw. ‘Beautiful’ and ‘breathtaking’, just like he always says when he sees you at work or back at your apartments. How he’s able to litter you with a million compliments

“I don’t overlook your compliments,” You let out an airy laugh, pulling back slightly to look at him properly, hands resting on his shoulders.

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t..!” You laughed, cupping his cheeks and pulling him into a long kiss. He drew away, only by a few centimeters, desperately trying to get his point across because god forbid Spencer keep his thoughts to himself.

“You’re deflecting,” He whispered over your lips before you laid another feather-like kiss into his lips. You hummed dismissively, assuring him that you weren’t avoiding anything.

But god, if you didn’t stop kissing him so softly and so painfully slowly, if you didn’t stop shifting around on his lap the way you were and if you didn’t stop your hands from wandering their way across his shoulders and chest— he was going to have a hard time remaining composed.

“You’re—“ A kiss.

“trying to—“ Another kiss.

“distract me,” It was as if you were a magnet he was so desperately trying to detach himself from, but failing miserably. Gravity itself pulled him towards you, he couldn’t help nor control it. He couldn’t blame himself either.

“Is it working?” You whispered, voice dangerously close to a taunt. Your hands began fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt, popping the first two undone.

Spencer found himself growing dizzy as his hands dug into your hips. “Unfortunately,”

You kissed his jaw, and Spencer let out a stifled groan. With the willpower of the gods themselves, he reached up and grabbed your hands into his own, stopping their mission at undoing his shirts buttons. You pouted with a glare, pulling away from him as his thumb gilded affectionately across your knuckles.

“So wait,” You pulled back. “Is this your way of saying you don’t want to sleep with me.?”

Spencer choked. “What?— No!”

Spencer groaned as you stifled a giggle. Oh, how you loved teasing and getting him all flustered. “That’s not— No.”

You tilted your head. His hands rested on your hips, as he sighed looking up at you. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

You blushed. “You tell me often,”

“I know you’re beautiful,” He shook his head and sat up, trailing his hands across your back. “Do you?”

“People tell me often,” You smirked and when he glared at you all you could do was kiss it off him. “But I only like hearing it from you,”

“I asked you something,” He let out.

“Sort of,” You admitted meekly, finally responding to his question. His hands came back to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging at it as his lips found yours again.

“You’re probably the most beautiful person I know,” He whispered above your lips matter of factly.

“Probably..?”

“Definitely,” His hands gripped at the plush flesh of your hips in a way that was making you want to fall to the ground and melt into a puddle of goop. It was so gentle yet there was a specific urgency to it.

He pulled away, kissing your cheek immediately after. “You’re also so smart and kind,”

He kisses traveled across your cheek, to your temple, towards your jaw and that damn spot on your neck that he knew drove you crazy. All while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Your witt was slowly melting away with any trace of self control you had left in you as you closed your eyes, arching yourself into his addictive touch. ”And funny,”

“Spence..” You warned.

“Can’t believe you’re mine,” He looked back at you, reaching up and cupping your cheek in his hand. “I—“

His words failed him as they whipped all the way back into his throat, daring not to leave his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to say it, there wasn’t anything else he wanted to say to you, because no matter how much he’d wash you in compliments, those three words were the closest thing to allowing you to understand just how much you truly meant to him— hell, it didn’t even feel like enough sometimes.

And that scared the shit out of him.

Which is why he quickly thought of the closest thing to those three words and spat them out, avoiding any growing suspicions. “I love the way you make me feel.”

You weren’t gonna lie, the first two words had gotten your hopes up in ways that were too pathetic to admit out loud. But his words had other intentions, so it seems, and you had to force yourself from slouching your shoulders foward in disappointment.

Beside, it’s not like the things he was saying weren’t causing a wonderful heat to pool in the pit of your stomach— and among other places.

You watched him, for a second or two, trying to maybe tell him with your eyes what you couldn’t tell him with your words. But it still wasn’t enough, and if you didn’t release the neediness that was starting to take shape within you, you'd quite literally explode.

You tangled your fingers within his hair and pulled his mouth onto yours in a steady but desperate kiss. He responded pretty well, given since his hands found your waist instantly and tugged them towards himself in a feverish manner.

He began pulling at the bottom of your shirt, signaling he needed it off of you and pulled away, whispering breathlessly. “Can I?—“

“Please.”

The fourth time

“Ouch,” You hissed as Morgan dabbed a piece of gauze onto the now stitched up cut on your head. “Are you trying to give me another concussion?”

Derek deadpanned at you, slightly relieved that you still found the energy to pick on him after being whacked in the back of the head with a pipe by the Unsub.

The team was searching for a local Serial Killer that targeted young women around the area, per usual. You and Morgan were put in charge of entering the Unsubs apartment since Garcia had been able to track it down while you and Morgan were on call.

It wasn’t anything past ordinary. This was your job, you had done this more than a thousand times before— much less carelessly and it wasn’t like you to be so careless. But sometimes you get so comfortable and cocky with your job that you forget about the actual risks of it.

Eventually that cockiness would have turned around and bit you in the ass.

When you and Morgan busted down the door, guns in hand, you split up, each directioning yourselves into different rooms of the apartment— in hindsight that was a horrible idea.

When you walked into what seemed to be an empty room, you stupidly failed to check the back of the door. Which was why a second later, when you opened your mouth to inform Morgan that the room was clear, something solid and cold wacked you across the back of the head, knocking you out unconscious.

You weren’t aware of what happened after that, given how the blunt force had knocked you out profusely and you really couldn't recall anything prior to the attack when you regained consciousness. All you knew is that you were alive and the Unsub had been caught, which was all that mattered honestly.

Derek was now wallowing in the self inflicted guilt of not knowing better. But to be completely fair, you didn’t know better either— you were as much to blame as he was.

But Derek was convincing himself that because of his lack of observation, you had ended up with a concussion, six stitches and a bruised cheekbone.

“Derek—” You pleaded, watching him dump the ice pack onto the counter of the back of the ambulance with an angry toss.

All he was doing right now was huffing in anger. “Come on,”

He turned to look down at you. Shot him a stiff thumbs up and a smile, signaling that you were more than okay. Sure, your head was throbbing, but you weren’t dying.

“Stop doing that,” You rolled your eyes and squashed your eyes shut, attempting to relieve your headache.

“Doing what?”

“The sulking,”

“I’m not sulking,” Derek scoffed. Now it was your turn to deadpan him. He opened his mouth, intending to jump instantly to his defense.

“Where is she?” A panicked voice from the depths of the crowd caused you to grimace, immediately recognizing it to be Spencer’s. Derek suddenly felt dread when realizing he now had to face him.

Spencer could be rather ardent when it came to you and your safety— you knew you were fine, but having to convince Spencer that you were fine as well was a tougher job.

Spencer pushed through the vast amounts of people, finally breaking through the last line of them and finding you sitting placidly in the back of the ambulance. The panic Spencer felt coursing within him was something he wished upon no one.

When Hotch told the team that you were down, Spencer couldn’t help but freak out. He hid it well, knowing he had to stay focused on the case, but god was he slowly crashing. His usual sharp intellect was fogged, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but your wellbeing. His head was flooded with questions and worries and he needed to know that you were okay.

He strided over to you, quickly crouching and taking your cold hands into his own. His distressed eyes flew all over your face, scanning it as his hand came up to cup your cheek. His thumb gilded gently over your bruise and the deep furrow in his brows was enough to tell you that his mind was going haywire.

“Hey you,” You said, humor glistening your tone while smiling sweetly and oblivious to the gravity of the situation. Spencer forced a weak smile to spread across his own face.

“Hey,” He cooed. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine actually,”

Spencer straightened himself out, turning to Derek. “What did the paramedics say?”

“They gave her six stitches for the superficial cut on the crown of her head and some ice for the bruised cheekbone,” He crossed his arms. “They say it’s probable she has a concussion.”

Spencer felt his blood run cold. “A concussion?!”

You could tell Spencer was trying his hardest to remain calm. It was evident in the deep breaths he was taking and the tapping of his fingers against the side of his leg. He was doing a horrible job at it though, although you wouldn’t tell him that because he’d just freak out some more. His voice was getting all pitchy and his shoulders shook feebly. He sucked in a deeper breath, closing his eyes and attempting to regain his composure.

“Spencer,” You didn’t need him panicking more than he already was. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, probably to scold you or maybe even defend himself, Hotch's stoic voice cut through.

“We need to deliver a statement. Morgan, Reid,”

Spencer looked down at you. But you pushed him to head over to wherever your chief needed him to be. “Go. You can—“

“Hotch, I’m going to stay,” He told the chief, almost finally.

“For the first 24 hours after the injury, it’s important for someone to stay with her to keep an eye out for any new symptoms that develop.”

You clamped your mouth shut and looked at Hotch, who remained neutral watching the two of you. You offered him a shrug, and the two of you knew there was no getting through to him. Hotch hesitated momentarily, but knew Spencer would be more of use if he wasn’t with him worrying about you.

Spencer was as smart as they came but god could he be stubborn.

With a final nod from Hotch, he and Morgan pushed through the group of press. You followed Spencer’s movements with a sweet smile glued onto your face. He sat next to you, close enough so that you could feel the side of his thigh warm against yours.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked again, voice small, worrying that if he spoke too harshly or too loudly it would hurt you further.

“Surprisingly good for someone who was smacked in the back of the head with a metal pole,” You shrugged indifferently. Spencer, however, did not find your humor amusing.

“How sleepy are you on a scale from one to ten?” He asked urgently. You pulled back, pursing your lips quizzically.

“Like three? I slept like shit last night—”

“How about your neck? Does it feel stiff?” His hands reached up, cupping the sides of your neck as his thumbs traced your jaw.

“No,”

“Are you unable to move any part of your body?” His questions were spewing out of him uncontrollably, and it was getting hard for you to keep up.

“I don’t—“

“What about your pupils? Did the paramedics check them?”

“Spence,” You whined, slumping your shoulders forward while your face still rested in his hands. “The bright lights and harsh noises are giving me slight headaches, but that’s it.”

He stared at you. Long and hard, he just looked at you and wondered what he wanted to say out of all the things swirling around in his head.

“What were you thinking?” He asked finally. You stared at him and his eyes hard with annoyance, but still shining an amount of concern. His voice was barely above a whisper. You let your shoulders fall, licking your bottom lip.

You reached up, grabbing his hands steadily from your face and lacing your fingers with his. “We weren’t,”

“We jumped in head first and didn’t think coherently,” His frustration was rational, but to a certain extent. You really wanted to validate his concern, but he was not allowed to get mad at you. “Spencer.”

As you called his name firmly, he only looked away, jaw and shoulders tense and constricted. You sat there, silently waiting for him to react however it is he needed to in order to process.

“I should’ve gone with you, I should’ve—” His head ducked low. His voice was full of frustration, at himself mostly. It didn’t have to be because this was not something he could have prevented.

“Spencer,“ You gave his hands a firm squeeze and tugged on them slightly. “What did we talk about when it came to personal prevention?“

He remained silent. “I’m serious, there isn’t anything we could’ve done to prevent this.”

Spencer couldn't call to mind the last time he had felt this strongly about someone. Maybe Maeve, but he knew deep down it wasn’t the same. He was almost positive he really hadn’t ever felt this way about someone— he’d been in love, but never like this.

Your entire existence ameriolated his entire being. There wasn’t a moment in the day where he didn’t think of you, where he didn’t wonder what you would think of things, where he wasn’t excited to see you every morning for work. A life without you didn’t exist to him anymore— he didn’t want it too.

That could be the main basis as to why Spencer felt so implausibly terrified at the idea of losing you.

His hand left yours, replacing it with a cold emptiness. His free hand flew up to his eyes urgently, pinching them simultaneously to get rid of the minor tears that had welled upon them. He ducked his head low, not wanting you to notice that he had started tearing up.

Immediately, your whole face softened at the realization that he was crying. It tugged on the strings that held your heart up and made your stomach churn in the worst way possible. “Spence…”

Seeing him cry, possibly because of the fear of losing you, made you feel— funny. It gave you this airy feeling in your head that caused you to feel lightheaded and filled your chest with blithe. You weren’t sure if it was your concussion or the affection you felt towards Spencer that made you feel this way.

You smiled meekly, fondness across every one of your features. Spencer cleared his throat and spoke, voice wobbly and unsteady. He sat up, trying to recollect himself. “Sorry, I— I don’t know what i’m crying for—”

You looked into his eyes, eyebrows swooped downwards. At that second a million thoughts ran through your head, but only those three freaking worlds were the only ones that felt adequate enough to say in that moment.

“I—“ You started.

It was right there. It sat in the back of your throat irksomely. You were ready to jump off the edge, to slip into the abyss— to say those words that you’ve been holding off for the past weeks, months even. Spencer watched you, simultaneously growing nervous because he could tell by the way you swallowed thickly that you were about to say something.

“I think I’m seeing double,” You opted. Just the way his eyes blew wide was enough to make you giggle.

Next time.

“What do you mean?! Like actually double or are you—“ His voice died down at the sound of your snort and soon enough you began laughing. He blinked a few times before he glared at you.

“That is not funny.” It irked him massively how you had the capacity to always joke when he wasn’t at all in the mood to. But it also unraveled the itching anxiety that had grown in his chest and replaced it with a deep affection that surged throughout him entirely as he watched you laugh. “I’m serious.”

“Did you know that you look so cute when you’re mad?” Your hands reached up, cradling his face in your palms. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips.

When you pulled away his frown was still present. The pads of your thumbs rested on both corners of his lips, pushing them upwards and creating a makeshift smile.

“I’ll let you baby me these next few days all you want,” Your voice was soft and sweet, making his head spin as you hovered your lips over his, placing another slow kiss there. “But right now, I’m promising you that I am fine, okay?”

His jaw clenched, eyes flying down to avoid your prying one’s. “Spence.”

You were saying his name one too many times that he was finding it increasingly hard to compose himself. He glanced up at you, nodding weakly. “Okay.”

The fifth time

You leaned forward in the mirror of Spencer bathroom, poking at the scarring on the crown of your head. “It feels weird,”

“It’s scarring tissue, it’ll feel weird for a bit, love” He watched you silently from his seat on the edge of his bed.

“Do you think it’ll leave a scar?” You mumbled, voice tight with concern. “The bruising on my cheek is fading but god help me, if this leaves a weird bump on my head I’ll physically seek this psycho out in jail and give him his own bump to worry about,”

Spencer stopped himself from laughing, finding your pouting adorable.

“After an injury, the inflammatory process signals fibroblasts to lay down new, protective tissue in the form of scars,” Spencer quipped. “But it won’t be noticeable since it’s hidden underneath the rest of your hair.”

You huffed, poking at the bruise on your cheekbone and admitting. “It’s hard to feel pretty when I’m all busted up.”

“You always look pretty,” You continued to poke at your cheekbone to which Spencer stood up, walking into the bathroom and planting himself behind you.

“Stop poking at it like that,” He scolded, reaching behind you and grabbing your wrist. You focused on your face, huffing a breath of frustration.

This past week has been utter hell for Spencer. A newfound persistent anxiety managed to find him after your injury and sink its teeth into him, claiming him victim. You've been staying with him since your concussion, ensuring him that you were safe, but he noticed he’d grown more vigilant to his surroundings when he was at work, more possessive when it came to you and your wellbeing and more conscientious.

You didn’t obtrude, since you understood it was a perfectly normal reaction for him to have.

But he hated it. He hated this clawing anxiety he was having. He hated having the persistent fear of losing you. He tried to decipher whether it truly was all related to the recent events or if there was something deeper. But he knew for sure that the thought of you getting hurt was making him sick to his stomach.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You grabbed his arms, rubbing soft circles onto it with the soft pads of your thumb.

“Bruises make me feel ugly,” You miffed. “Except the ones you give me, I love those,”

Spencer looked up from your neck, catching your gaze and watching your mischievous smile lighten up through the mirror as he cocked a brow at you. You giggled out a laugh.

Spencer zoned out. He just looked at you, watching your pretty eyes latch onto his through the mirror, seeing your body safe and warm and alive in his arms. His throat tightened and as much as he hated it, his mind immediately thought of Maeve.

Not because he was comparing, of course not. He could never— the two of you meant very different things to him and they were very different relationships.

But he could remember how he wasn’t able to tell Maeve that he loved her— he wasn’t given the chance.

And it made him think about your recent accident, and all the times he'd been stopping himself from telling you. Fear, worry— whatever it was, he had been stopping himself time after time from telling you how he felt.

The thought of him losing you before he could ever tell you how he truly feels is something that made him want to throw up.

“Hotch said I could go back to work on Monday,”

“I love you.”

He said it because he could, he said it because he meant it, and he said it because he didn’t want to live a second longer without you knowing how he felt despite its reciprocity.

He won’t ever forget the way your face just fell. Just stopped moving, mouth hanging open and eyebrows shooting upwards. How your mind just went blank. God, his heart was in his throat and your silence wasn’t helping.

“What did you just say?” You asked, mostly in disbelief— entirely in disbelief.

“I love you.” He’d repeat it for you as many times as you wanted him too. He’d do anything for you.

You turned and his grip around you loosened. Now facing him, your eyes shot around every fraction of his face to determine that this wasn’t a lie or a joke or something cruel he was planning.

“Say that again,”

“I love you.”

And it definitely wasn’t.

You pushed yourself onto the tip of your toes, leaning up and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a suffocating kiss. One that was desperate, and urgent and full of passion and all over the place.

He pushed you against the marble counter, quickly hoisting you up onto the cold tile as your mouth moved along his perfectly. Your hands dug themselves into his hair, your legs wrapped around his waist, tugged at his body, pulling him impossibly closer to your own.

He pulled away breathing over your lips. “I love you,”

He kissed you again before pulling away and whispering once again. “I’m in love with you.”

He rested his forehead onto you, reaching up and tangling his hands in your hair. The two of you heaved. Your chest was hammering against your rib cages, the oxygen wasn’t fully reaching your head or lungs and you were pretty sure you were going to faint. It was too much. “You are?”

You both peered your eyes open, looking at each other deeply. He whispered, voice crackling slightly. “How could I not?”

You kissed him, this time slowly and softly, wanting to show him how much you loved him back— needing to tell him how much you loved him back.

“I love you,” You said, wavering an unsteady laugh. He opened his eyes and pulled away, looking at you and infatuated with every part of your existence.

“Really?”

“Spencer..!” Your voice cracked in a protest, ludicrously referring to such a stupid assumption— you’d love him till the day you died. You pulled him closer. “It is physically impossible for me not to love you. Don’t act so surprised.”

He smiled. A big, wide and stupid smile that probably made him look like a kid on christmas morning. He kissed your forehead. “You have no idea how much of a relief it is to say it.”

You perched up, hands falling onto his chest. “How long have you wanted to say it?”

He cringed bashfully, letting his hands fall to your waist as he shook his head shamefully. “Too long,”

“Well that makes two of us then,” You leaned forward, placing a relaxed kiss on his jaw. “Was there a point you realized?”

He shook his head. He’s pretty sure that after a month of going out on dates and seeing you consecutively outside and inside of work, he knew he’d fall in love with you. How could he not? “My breaking point, however, was the day you were wearing your new shirt,”

He kissed your neck, giving your hips a tight squeeze. “Which by the way, looked absolutely incredible on you,”

“Is that so?” You mumbled, lips curving up in a smirk.

“I love how it looked on you,” He admitted. “I love you.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that,”

“I’m never going to get tired of saying it,” He responded. “When did you realize?”

“It was either that time after our first big fight or on that night on the couch when we,” You shot him a sneaky look, to which his cheeks turned pink, recalling the events of that night. You shrugged. “You know.”

You were going to be the literal death of him.

He kissed your jaw twice more. He loved you and you loved him. It seemed like something too good to be true. “I think I’m going to need you to jog up my memory,”

You giggled at the reference, heart doubling in size at the amount of affection you were feeling towards him at that moment. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, emitting a loud shriek followed by a string of laughter as he hoisted you up and carried you over to his bed.

[lovekt]

⋆ ｡˚ ⋆｡ BIRDS OF A FEATHER ⋆ ｡˚ ⋆｡

(we should stick together)

pairing; oscar piastri x fem!reader

blurb; where oscar funds your slightly unhealthy obsession, and uses it as a way to your heart.

author’s note; i’m thinking of writing this up into a little friend to lovers blurb. anywayss something short and sweet as i’ve only got two weeks left of exams!!

🎶; now playing… birds of a feather - billie eilish

<< the library , op81 masterlist >>

oscarpiastri just posted to their story!

user1 and that's what I get for screaming my man, my man, my man too loud

↳ user2 girll he was never your man. we all know who that's for

user3 honestly get you a guy who adds to your jellycat collection no questions asked.

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 2,374,918 others..

oscarpiastri Another one for another year. Can't wait until there's seventy or so stalking me everywhere I go. Happy birthday "bestie", some more surprises coming soon...?

view all 20,372 comments

user1 everyone say happy birthday rn or ill show up on your doorstep

user2 HE’S PLANNING ON BUYING HER ATLEAST SEVENTY

↳ user3 and yall complain that my standards are too high

yourusername planning on sticking around then?

↳ oscarpiastri For as long as you’ll let me

user4 the last slide is giving parents 😭

user5 my all time fav couple 🫶

↳ user6 i’m gonna hold your hand when i tell you this…

user7 oscar pleaseee tell yn to go public 🙏

yourusername 🔒

liked by oscarpiastri and 43 others…

yourusername spent the new day with my bestie and this random aussie lad. dont know where he came from, but i have to say it was the best bday i could’ve asked for 🥰

view all 17 comments

oscarpiastri Was it the same random aussie lad who carried you home after you fell asleep on him?

↳ yourusername potentially 🌚

yourusername posted to their story! 🔒

↳ oscarpiastri That bunny should be me

↳ yourusername not a very bestie thing to say mr piastri

↳ oscarpiastri Would you prefer I lie?

↳ yourusername yes

mclaren

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 167,388 others…

mclaren Before and after we told Oscar who our special guest is!

view all 7,268 comments

user1 does it count as a “special” guest when she’s here every race weekend?

yourusername aww im special 🥹

↳ landonorris no get out

↳ yourusername won one race and thinks the world revolves around him

user2 oscar’s lucky charm 🥲

oscarpiastri Definitely didn’t already know who it was

↳ user3 you already knew but still smiled at just her name

liked by mclaren

↳ user4 when will this friends to lovers ao3 400k words slowburn torture end??

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 836,018 others…

oscarpiastri P1 and the best gift I could ever ask for.

view all 64,828 comments

user1 something's telling me winning isn't the best gift he's talking about...

yourusername 🧡

user2 don't act like we don't know EXACTLY what happened after that last photo was taken

user3 moments before disaster

yourusername champagne tastes disgusting

↳ oscarpiastri It’ll never happen again your highness

↳ yourusername when did i say i didn't want it to? 🙄

↳ oscarpiastri Noted

mclaren You deserve it all! 🎉

yourusername

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 76,381 others…

yourusername get you a man who doubles as a footrest

view all 628 comments

user1 war is over. YN IS PUBLIC!

↳ yourusername hii!

user2 THE PASTRY JELLYCAT OMG

oscarpiastri This is the first thing you say on public?

↳ yourusername i don't see the problem?

user3 DID OSCAR PASTRY BUY YOU A PASTRY TEDDY??

↳ yourusername yes he did 😋. dyou think if i stab it he'll feel it like a voodoo doll?

↳ oscarpiastri Wow.

↳ yourusername im jokingg bestie its my favourite one

↳ user3 not the friendzone

↳ oscarpiastri Acting like I didn't buy you all of them. Ok

user4 dare i say the wait was worth it

user5 do you guys need a dog?

landonorris happy for you ig

↳ yourusername see you next weekend ig

yourusername posted to their story!

↳ oscarpiastri Can you stop calling me bestie now?

↳ yourusername never.

[sofiepofie20]

Two birds in the snow.

cw: fluff, tsukki x clumsy!reader, fem!reader, my shitty writing.

It was December 3rd, at 5pm on a winter afternoon. Snow covered the roads like a white carpet, and the shops closed early due to the huge amount of snow falling that week. The weather was cloudy, but even so, the sunset could be seen through the fog, painting the sky orange and pink. the only thing that could be heard on tha peaceful afternoon was the crickets chirping, along with the sound of the stream flowing near the school.

And here Kei found himself, at the school gate, waiting for you. On his headphones, he played the playlist he had made with songs that reminded him of you. He was wearing that green plaid scarf and the black gloves u gifted him. he couldn't help but wonder: how did he get to this point? Kei never thought he would wait 30 minutes for someone, much less in the snow, out in the cold. But here he was anyway. He must be insane, for sure. if he caught a cold, the team would nag his ears off.

Kei's train of thought was interrupted when he heard footsteps approaching the gate. He wasn't surprised whem he saw u leaving, when u glanced at him with a suprised expression.

“Oh, Kei?! What are you doing here? I thought the club training had ended a while ago.” You said confused, your eyes wandering the boy's frame. The tip of Kei's nose and ears were flushed from the cold, and also his cheeks.

Kei looked down at u, his expression unreadable. “The train ended 30 minutes ago. I decided to wait for you.” He answered with a casual tone.

u raised an eyebrow, tilting ur head, as a small grin formed on your lips. “Thank you very much, that's very kind. But you didn't have to wait for me, it's really cold out here.” You said with a hint of concern in ur tone.

Kei rolled his eyes, dismissing ur concern. “I'm fine. I was worried about you getting a cold, since u are so fragile and all.” He teased slightly, taking a step closer. His hand reached to brush away some snowflakes in ur hair.

You scoffed, a smirking spreading on your face. “Shut up, i can handle a little cold. u act as if im a porcelain doll.” you teased him back, as u brought ur hand to his and interwined your fingers together. Tsukishima's hand was bigger than yours, but your hands fit perfectly together.

He looked down at you as a small smile appeared on his features. “u are just as delicate as one.” he answered softly, squeezing ur hand. “Let's get u home before u freeze here.” the boy said, tugging on ur hand, urging u to start walking with him. You nodded, and u two walked together down the street, passing by Sakanoshita's store, towards ur house.

u two started talking, telling each other about how your day was, until u saw a snowman on the park. a smile spread through ur face. “look Kei, that cute snowman!” u pointed at the snowman.

Kei looked at where u were pointing, and he nodded. “yea, cute.” u suddenly let go of his hand and walk towards the snowman. He sighs. “Come on, Y/N, lets go already.” he looked ahead at the street. “The snow is getting thicker-”

Before Kei could finish his sentence, he was interrupted when he felt a snowball being thrown at his head. Kei slowly turned back to look at u, only to see u holding back ur laugh. Kei scoffed, narrowing his eyes. “So u wanna play, huh?” He bent down and formed a snowball, looking at you again with a challenging look. “Fine.”

Kei threw the snowball at your stomach, and u tripped over a rock, falling flat on ur butt with an “oof-” sound. He stared to laugh, as u sat up and scowled at him. “u jerk!” u frown.

“It was you who started it!” He answered with a smirk. And u couldn't hold back anymore, and u two started laughing. Kei approached and sat down next to u, nudging ur shoulder. “u clumsy ass.” he teased, snickering.

you continued laugh. “Shut up, u threw the snowball way too hard!” u comolained, chuckling. Kei sighed, and a small, genuine smile formed in his face. He looked up at the sky, with a hint of a flush on his cheeks.

“u know, it's been a while since i've been this comfortable with someone... it's kinda scary, but i like it. i like being with u.” he said with a sincere tone, and ur face softened. “i know i dont really say it often, but... i really enjoy spending time with u like this.” he said with a vulnerable tone, with a embarassed expression on his face. he looked away, before he could say anything else, Kei felt another snowball being thrown at his shoulder. he glared at u, as u started laughing again.

“Ahahaha, u are so cheesy! u dont usually say things like that!!” you chuckled, and nudged his shoulder, leaning closer. “but, u know, i like spending time with u too.” u said softly, and Kei noticed the genuine tone in ur voice. his face softened, and he let u lean on his shoulder.

“Good to know, shrimp.”

[oh-katsuki]

bird of prey (tendou x reader)

series masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tendou x Reader, Bokuto x Reader

Series Summary: Satori Tendou is your best friend, but you fuck for fun.

Chapter Title: Act I, Scene 1 — Play Like Lovers

Chapter Summary: Satori likes your current arrangement. You're friends, arguably the best of friends, and sometimes you fuck. Well, it's more than sometimes. Like rabbits, really.

Chapter Content Warnings: afab!reader, college au, friends with benefits, no strings attached, angst, oral sex (m!receiving), teasing, bokuto is in this too, ushijima mentions, mentions of breeding, mentions of pregnancy, slowish burn (?) they're already fucking tho so romantically speaking, teasing, dirty talk

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: i missed tendou and ended up deciding to write this. i don't have any chapters prewritten so updates will likely be slow, but im trying out a new thing so bear with me. it's probably better read on ao3, but im posting it here too. formatting is the bane of my existence. enjoy <3

next >

Satori likes the cold. He always has. He likes the bite of it. The way it makes his skin feel when he’s been standing outside long enough that the cold begins to feel hot across his cheeks.

There’s a certain solitude to winter that Satori appreciates. It’s as if the world has had a blanket thrown over it and everything becomes muffled and quiet. Sometimes winter makes Satori feel like he’s on another planet, floating through a silent universe in a perpetual winter. He especially feels this way when it snows. He loves the world when it’s like this, calm and quiet and so hazy that he can’t see the street sign a block down. 

Satori blinks winter from his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as they begin to water to fight the cold. He inhales, tucking his hands further into his puffy jacket as the crisp air fills his lungs. It’s a quiet night. The first snowy one of the season, and snowflakes fall like little diamonds onto a thinly coated sidewalk. 

He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind. Satori is just wandering, savoring the feel of the evening as he strolls through his neighborhood. There are a scant few people outside. It's a weeknight and the neighborhood surrounding campus is eerily quiet in these small hours of the morning. Only the occasional drunk or a couple loved up and leaning on one another, their hands intertwined in the pockets of one of their coats. 

Tendou thinks that he could only become one of those two options. The drunk seems to have far less to worry about, stumbling across the sidewalk before coming to a stop on a slanted curve and letting his head fall onto his crossed arms. Not that Satori would want to be him. Don’t get him wrong. He’s not judging. How one man lives his life is absolutely none of Satori’s business and, in the same way he prefers people don’t mind what he does, he won’t mind what the neighborhood drunk does. Still, on a sliding scale of difficulty, the drunk seems to—for the moment—have it easier in Satori’s eyes. Only one person to worry about. 

It’s nearing three in the morning and the world has taken on an eerily slanted feel to it. Satori likes the world like this, calm and quiet. No one to talk to or worry about, only the sound of his boots against the thin layer of snow. There’s no crunch, as it hasn’t stuck yet, but if it keeps snowing like this, Satori thinks that it might. He looks forward to it, tilting his head up toward the sky and feeling the soft sting of bitter cold snow as it falls on his cheeks. 

—

Teeth, tongue, the press of your body arching up to meet his. It’s hot today, the way you move. Rushed like you’re trying to get something done. Music plays quietly from your computer on the desk and your hands fumble blindly around his body, eyes screwed shut as you let your tongue explore the inside of his mouth. 

“You’re eager,” he coos, detaching himself from your lips. 

“Sh, sh, sh,” you mumble, pulling him back down to you by the back of his neck and delivering a sloppy kiss. “Keep your voice down.” 

“Why?” He asks back, still connected at the lips. 

“My housemates don’t know you’re here,” you answer, pushing on his shoulders. 

Tendou gives in, letting you turn him over on the bed so that his back is against your headboard. You settle over his hips evenly, placing yourself like you belong there. He wouldn’t be surprised if you felt that way. This is regular enough that you end up like this a lot. Straddling his thighs with your hands on either side of his face. 

You tilt your head, kissing your way down his jaw. Your lips press onto the side of his neck and he can feel the way your tongue darts out to taste the salt on his neck. Your hands roam freely up the other side of his neck and across the back of his head, almost like you can’t feel enough of him fast enough. They raised goosebumps along his skin, teasing the parts your mouth isn’t touching.

“And I don’t really want them to find out,” you say into his neck. Tendou feels the hum in his collarbone and shutters. 

“And why’s that?” He breathes out, his lithe fingers coming up to pull your hips down against him. Tendou figures that if you’re going to rock your hips back and forth like that, you might as well do it like you mean it. 

“They’ll give me shit for hooking up with you all the time instead of getting a real date,” you answer through your breathing. “Something about self respect.” 

Tendou leans his head back against the headboard, looking at you over the tops of his cheeks. You’ve pulled up his shirt and your body is curled over itself, your mouth smearing down his heaving chest as far as your posture will let it go.

He supposes that’s fair. 

“Suppose you haven’t told them that the no strings attached thing is mutual?” He teases, tilting his head to the side to let you continue to kiss at his neck. 

He slides his fingers under the fabric of your sleep shirt, cool fingertips hitting your warm back. Tendou presses his palm flat on your lower back and you shiver away from him, pushing your chest up against his. He likes the way you move. Something about it scratches an itch he’s got. Like watching marbles in a chain reaction. 

“I have,” you say, reaching between the two of you to undo his pants. Tendou slips his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants, cupping your ass in his hands. “They just don’t believe me.” 

“Hah,” he laughs, tilting his chin forward to kiss you again. He likes the way you taste. “That’s funny.” 

“Ugh, can we like,” you pull away from him, your eyes glazed over and your eyebrows furrowed. You keep one hand on the back of his neck, the other splayed on his chest and Tendou idly rolls the fat of your ass across his fingertips.

“Can we like, what?” He imitates through a grin, tilting his head. “Not talk about this?” You say, rolling your hips. “Because I really want to fuck you right now and it’s sort of killing my vibe.” 

Tendou chuckles at the way you drop your head and roll your hips against him, tipping his head back again as he lets out a low groan. 

“If it means we get to fuck then sure thing,” he drawls, guiding your hips over his crotch by the fat of your ass.

You groan, exposing the hollow of your throat to him as you lean backwards. Tendou leans up to meet you, placing his lips near your pulse point. He bites down on your neck lightly and savors the slight gasp you let out, salving the ache with a quick swipe of his tongue. You cling to him like velcro, rocking your hips over his hardened cock through your clothes. It’s so desperate that it’s almost juvenile, though you’re both well past the phase of being too prudish to not take them off. 

He sighs, sliding his hands from your ass and up your back. He cups your shoulders around your body, letting you move your hips against him. Tendou finds that he likes to let you do what you want. There’s really nothing you can’t take from him and as far as he’s concerned, nothing’s off limits. He’s playing a game and right now, letting you win is the most interesting option.

You reach between them to pick up where you left off, fumbling in his pants to palm at him over his boxers, still rocking your hips against the inside of your wrist. Satori groans lightly at the weight of your hand. He likes it. His dick just fucking fits. 

You slide your hand back and forth, teasing him the way that you know he likes it. God, in moments like these, Satori is convinced that you’re perfect. You and that perfect body, that perfect fucking pussy. All of it just sort of clicks. 

The sexual chemistry between the two of you is palpable. It really always has been. Even when the two of you swore up and down that you were just friends, Satori knew that eventually you’d fuck. And of course, he was right. Months later and here he is, leaning up against your headboard after sneaking in through the window while you give him an over-the-boxers handjob that feels better than what he can do to himself for some reason. 

You need it almost every night, and if it isn’t every night, it’s at least three times a week. You’re always together anyways, might as well throw some heavy petting into the mix while you’re at it. That’s just as well with Tendou. Personally, he’s always willing to fuck you if you need it. Especially when you need it. You just get this pretty look in your eye. It’s a lot like the one you’re wearing now, mouth slightly open as you free him from his boxers and swipe the precum from the tip of his dick with your thumb. Satori shudders. It’s perfect. 

“If you’re going to fuck me, you should just do it,” he says, his face contorting slightly as you grip his cock in your hand and begin to shift backward between his legs. 

“Shut up,” you retort, looking at him through your lashes. “I know you love this shit.” 

“Yeah, fuck-” he groans as you take the tip of him into your mouth. “You’re right. I love a tease.” 

Good conversation. Good sex. A good friend. There’s really nothing more he could ask for. 

Satori brushes the hair from your face, holding it back on your forehead so that he can see the way your mouth takes him in. It’s soft and warm and you hollow your cheeks around his cock in a way that drives him insane. You look so pretty down there. So giving and malleable. And get this, you do it because you like it. God, how fucking sexy. 

He likes the way you look from this angle, your eyebrows knitted together and your ass up in the air. He can see the way you rub your thighs together, small pulses that tell him that when he finally gets down there, you’re going to be soaked. You feel good too. Soft skin, soft mouth. 

Satori lets out a groan, reaching forward to play with the meat of your ass. He kneads the skin there, rubbing his thumb back and forth against it as if he were just trying to feel it. It hides your face from him for a moment and Satori is sad for the loss, but your ass is soft and giving and you push it back against his hand like you like the way he touches you. Of course you do, Satori only touches you in ways he knows you’re going to like. It gets him off. 

You swirl your tongue around his cock, your other hand gripping the base of him and moving along with your mouth. When you do try to take him all the way in, you cough lightly around it, raising your head to catch your breath before lowering your mouth back down. His lower stomach ties itself into knots. That familiar swell begins to mount in him and his muscles tense against his will. Your mouth works him until that slow moving wave pushes against whatever barrier it needs to break for him to finish. 

You stop before he gets to cum and Satori feels that swell of pleasure recede into the back of his gut. He pouts momentarily, his chest heaving as you discard your sweatpants and crawl back over him. 

Satori places his hand over your cunt like it's a habit. He rubs over your slick folds with four fingers, evening applying pressure across your whole pussy because he knows that it frustrates you. In response, you let out an exasperated groan and grind down against his hand. That only makes it better when he finally centers in on your clit, two fingers dipped between your lips to rubbing at the throbbing bud. 

He plays with it for a moment, moving his fingers in a continuous circle. You’re so wet that Satori doesn’t even need to lick his fingers, but he does anyway because he wants to taste you. Slowly, he raises them to his lips and sucks your pleasure off of them, eyeing you while he does so. Then, he places his other hand on your chin and gently forces your mouth open, sliding his two fingers across your tongue. 

The muscle gives under the weight of his fingers. Pleasantly, delightfully, you let him mold you. You let him open your mouth further and stick them deeper—all the way into the warm, wet back of your mouth—until you gag around them. It’s an awful sound. Wet and desperate and it leaves you panting when he pulls them out, but Satori likes you messy. He likes you when you’re drooling for it, saliva pooling under your tongue for just a taste of what he gives you. 

Don’t get him wrong, it’s not a power trip thing. It’s borne out of pure fascination. Like the way scientists like to study molecules, Satori likes to study you. You’re interesting to him. The first to follow through on sex only being sex because Satori—well, Satori fucks you like he loves you. And he loves that you don’t get caught up in it. 

You’re desperate for it today. Satori can tell because you don’t even let him finger you before you’re guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. 

“What? No condom?” He drawls through a sly grin. 

“Not tonight,” you pant, screwing your eyes shut. Satori’s hands move to your hips, squeezing the fat there and admiring its delightful give. “Don’t have one.” 

“What ever happened to safe sex?” He says through gritted teeth, craning his neck forward to get a good view. 

“You worried you gonna get me pregnant?” you give a breathy laugh, sinking all the way down on him. 

“Depends, you gonna let me finish inside?” he asks through a locked jaw as he feels the warmth of you envelop him. 

“Fuck no,” you say, beginning to move your hips. 

Satori inhales through his teeth, leaning backwards and holding you by the hips. You take the lead tonight, rolling your hips forward with slow, almost calculated, flicks. He guides you, his fingers gripping at the side of your ass, pulling it apart as best he can. He likes the way it feels when he holds you like this and wonders briefly what it looks like from the back when he lets you fuck him like this. 

The music from your laptop is drowned out by the quiet sounds of your breathing. The only thing Satori really hears is the both of you, stifling moans to prevent your housemates from figuring out what you’re up to. He grits his teeth. 

Satori has always been on the more vocal side of things. Talking, moaning, laughing, things like that. This though, this is hot too. Like this, he can hear every little change in your breathing. He can hear every time he hits that particularly sensitive spot inside of you. Shit, he can even hear his own breathing, labored and low and mirroring your desperation like you’re both cut from the same cloth. 

He loves being inside of you. It’s comfortable. It always feels good in a way Satori has found is hard to come by. You’ve got a good pussy and an even better attitude about it. 

When you get close, you always take in a sharp and fast inhale. It’s like a tell. Something that gives away just how good you feel. Satori loves the sound of it. Sometimes, he’ll edge you three or four times just to hear it, just to savor that sweet intake of breath. Tonight though, he’s going to let you have it easy. You deserve to have it easy tonight, as desperate as you are, and this is fun for him too. This position makes it easy to feel just how tight you get when you’re close, pussy clamping down around him at a fast interval even with the upward pumps of his hips. 

He’s too impatient to let you fuck him on your own. Satori lets you have it your way, but he wants it his way too, accenting the roll of your hips with subtle pumps. He grips your hips, his fingers sinking delightfully into the fat there and holds you at a good enough angle to fuck. The weight of your breath comes heavy, that little accent and then a slow crawl from your lungs. You shudder, mouth falling open. And Satori, well Satori watches. In fascination, in awe, in sheer pleasure. 

“Oh shit,” you breathe, glancing at him. “Yeah, yeah.” 

Oh, he loves that. Those little nothings that you babble when you’re breathless and climbing towards that high. Satori can’t get enough of it. Your voice, the cadence of it, how heavy it sounds on your tongue when you force out the sex-laced words. 

You crumble quickly. It’s almost desperate the way you push your hands onto his chest and let your head fall forward, cunt clenching down hard around him as you stop the roll of your hips to shudder. Your thighs press harshly against Satori’s sides and he digs his fingers into your hips to keep from cumming inside of you. That’d be pretty bad, though he can’t say that it’s not endlessly tempting. 

You don’t waste a moment pulling yourself off of him, wrapping your hand around is cum-slicked cock and beginning to pump. You squeeze the head of it and Satori lets out a low groan. God, you’re being so quick about this that it would almost be jarring if Satori didn’t find it so fucking hot. You’re like… desperate for it. Christ, he thinks he’s gonna cum. 

“Can I finish on your face?” He grits out. 

“No,” you reply, teasing him by pressing your thumb over the head of his dick. “On your chest. I like it when you make a mess of yourself.” 

Then, a familiar, teasing smile lights up across your face. Your breath is still heaving and it makes the expression feel more genuine. Satori leans his head back against the headboard eyebrows pulled upwards in his pleasure. 

“You’re fuckin’ sadistic,” he laughs out. 

It’s half a groan, his voice strained and thick with his imminent high. He reaches up to toy with your tits, anything really that he can grab. Satori gets handsy when he’s close and he feels the way pleasure mounts in his lower stomach like water fills a bucket. 

Then, he peaks, his cum spilling out over his chest. Satori makes an effort to muffle his voice when he does, gritting his jaw and squeezing the flesh of your tit as an outlet for the pleasure of it all. The mess he’s made is warm, spilling into the ridges of his abdomen and the soft lines of muscle there.He’ll have to shower again when he gets home. For the moment though, he just watches his chest heave as you let go of his dick and reach to put two of your messy fingers in his mouth. Satori obliges, swirling his tongue around them. 

“Hah, you’re disgusting.” 

“You’re the one who likes it, sweetheart,” he drones, reaching to take some tissues from the nightstand and wipe up his mess. 

“Throw those in the bin,” you say, laying down on your bed as he stands. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” 

Satori stretches for a moment, inspecting his clothes to ensure that the mess was minimal. He turns to look at you on the bed. Your eyes are closed, arms above your head with your sleep shirt riding up on your body, revealing a small glimpse of your fleshy stomach. God, he almost wants to fuck you again. 

“Move over,” he says, bullying his way into the bed next to you. 

“Fine, but you can’t stay for long,” you reply, lifting your head and putting it back down on his chest. You face the ceiling, picking at your nails. “I gotta shower and finish up a paper.” 

“You have a paper to finish but you called me over to fuck?” 

“Duh,” you reply. “Needed some sort of stress relief.” 

“Most people just eat a bowl of cereal or something,” he says through a smile, his lips curling up in the corners. 

You huff and roll your eyes, letting out a short and genuine laugh. “Whatever, you just can’t stay too long, ‘kay?” 

“You got it,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes lightly. 

Satori tucks his arm under his head, watching your ceiling fan as it spins in circles. He hates the ceiling in your room. You’ve got popcorn ceilings, something that Satori is particularly disdainful of. It’s why he likes having you over at his place, with its smooth and well painted walls. Plus, you can fuck as loud as you want and there’ll be no one there in the morning to hound you both over it. 

You can’t stay for long. 

He never really understood why you always tell him that. Even without it, Satori never really does. 

—

Satori’s morning routine isn’t really a routine at all. On days where he has nothing to do, he rolls out of bed at whatever time he pleases. Sometimes that’s 12 in the afternoon and other times that’s 5:30 in the morning. 

He tries his best to avoid early morning classes. Truthfully, he tries his best to avoid classes at all, but hey, when you’re getting a degree, that’s not really an option. Satori’s been relatively successful in that endeavor, keeping most of his class schedule well within the 11 am to 4 pm range, except for one pesky little discussion. Once a week, on Tuesdays, Satori has to drag himself out of bed and be in the classroom at 8 am sharp. 

It’s not that he isn’t driven, or isn’t a morning person. Satori just isn’t a rules person, which doesn’t exactly function well within a societal structure. There are always rules. Ones that tell you when to cross the road, where to park your car, when to be somewhere or when not to be somewhere. The fact that he has to get up early on Tuesdays makes him needlessly resistant to getting up, even if he’s awake already. 

Satori blinks away sleep in the quiet of his room. He’s woken up about fifteen minutes before his 6:50 alarm and now stares blankly at the ceiling with his arms tucked behind his head. What a drag, getting up like this and going immediately into the daily slog, not that anything can be done about it. 

He inhales, preparing himself to sit up, before actually doing so. His muscles scream at him, sore with sleep and aching for a good stretch which he gladly obliges with a loud yawn. Cartoonish, almost. Satori laughs to himself as he pulls his body from the bed. 

His room is messy. Clothes are strewn about haphazardly across the floor and various items that he’d picked up to mess around with are out of place. He exhales, shaking his head a little bit and telling himself that he’ll clean it when he gets back. It’s not that he minds the mess. In fact, Satori likes a little organized mess. Like what you and him are doing. That’s messy in the most delightful way. But right now, his room is a little too messy, verging on the precipice of dirty, which Satori hates. 

He tosses on a soft, long-sleeved t-shirt. It’s the kind of shirt that he’s had for a long while, the ones that feel smooth on his skin. The fabric is so worn that it falls over him almost like tissue paper and he loves the feeling. His black jeans are hanging over the back of his desk chair and he grabs them quickly, shrugging them on over his hips with two quick steps and a pull. The ink on them is faded and though they started their life black, they are now almost a dark gray and look even lighter at the knees and backs of the thighs. He thinks he’ll have to get a new pair soon. Gray doesn’t look as nice with other colors as black does. 

The sink in his bathroom is nearly empty, save for one single face wash, his toothbrush, and some toothpaste. He uses all of them in that order, hardly glancing up to look at himself in the mirror except to fix his scraggly long hair. He fiddles with it for a moment, running his fingers through minor tangles that worked themselves into his hair while he slept, before deciding that it looks good enough. The rest of it will sort itself out during the day and fall flat. 

His dish is in the sink from the night before and he briefly loads it into the dishwasher and runs it, chiding himself mentally with an eye roll for not doing it the night before. There’s always a 50/50 chance in the morning that Satori has forgotten to run the dishwasher and it antagonizes him as much as anything can antagonize Satori, which really isn’t much. 

There’s a black puffer jacket hanging by the door of his modest apartment. It’s a size too big for him, but it’s warm and looks nice on his figure, so he sees no use in telling his mother that she’d gotten the wrong size. It was a gift from her at the beginning of the winter season last year, along with a hat that Satori never wears. The jacket, at the very least, gets some use on account of it suiting his own personal style. 

He’s grateful for it when he steps outside of his apartment, shrugging it closer to him as the familiar bite of winter rushes up and under his skin. The sun has only just risen and the world is cast in a familiar orange, pink, and purple glow that makes it feel like a painting. Satori doesn’t mind being out in the world when it’s still asleep. Especially not in the early morning hours just before the sun comes up, when the world is cast in blue as if it were covered in film. Today though, it’s late enough that the world is now wide awake and the bustle of it gives Satori a headache. 

He passes businessmen on their way to work, girls in school uniforms rushing to make it through the gate of their school on time, their loafers smacking the floor with a delightful and intrusive clicking sound. His campus is only a few blocks away, around two corners and a straight shot until he hits the main building. He got lucky with his apartment’s location and sacrificed nice amenities for its proximity to his classes. The apartment itself may be crap, but Satori finds it worthwhile for how near it is to the things he cares about. That, and it doesn’t have popcorn ceilings, thank god. 

The snow hasn’t stuck yet, which means that the sidewalk is damp with melting ice as the sun begins to warm the pavement beneath it. His shoes will get damp like this. The converse do little to repel the water, instead soaking it in like a sponge. He’s careful to avoid puddles, but should he hit one, Satori won’t dwell. They’ll dry at some point. 

He can see the school up ahead. Satori isn’t really a fan of the building style. They’re stuffy and a bit reminiscent of the industrial buildings just outside of the Sendai city limits, but Tohoku University is a good school and Satori thinks it would have been a waste to not accept his admission. As the buildings grow closer, Satori can see the bodies of students wandering. Some talk in small groups and others, the more independent of them, walk hurriedly to their classes with heavy backpacks slung over both shoulders. Their backs curl forward a little, feeling the pressure of the weight.

Right through the quad, through the double doors, and up to the second floor. That’s the path Satori needs to take to get to his classroom, though he’s about 10 minutes early. He pauses just outside of the building, tilting his head to the side as he spots a familiar silhouette. A smile creeps onto his face, lips curling in the corners as he recognizes you. 

You’re having a conversation with someone, though Satori can’t quite make out who exactly it is. They’re standing partially behind one of the trees, their broad figure concealed by the trunk of it. As he approaches, he recognizes the other person to be Bokuto Koutarou, one of the core members of the university’s volleyball team. What an odd pair to be seen together, and so early in the morning too. Then, Bokuto leans down and pecks you on the cheek and Satori is more confused than he’s been in a while. When did you get close? When did you start seeing him? 

A pit forms in his stomach, though not the kind he’s familiar with. Messy, messy. 

“Bokuto, huh?” he says as he approaches behind you, watching with you as the other man walks away. “When did you and him get so… close.” He drags out the last word, hissing out the S through a small smile. 

“That,” you start, “is none of your business. It just sort of happened.” 

Satori gives you a coy smile, tilting his head in your direction. 

“Does he know?” He questions genuinely. 

“Know what?” 

“About us,” he croons, leaving no room for misinterpretation. 

You give him a pointed glance, an eyebrow raised. He knows the look. It’s the one you give him when he’s said something stupid or far too obvious. 

“We,” you emphasize, “are friends.” 

“Oh yeah,” he nods, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning back as he follows your step. “We’re really good friends. And we fuck for fun.” 

You laugh. It’s a shrill laugh, and totally comfortable. He can’t see an ounce of tension in your shoulders and they’re relaxed in the way they usually are when the two of you speak. Satori looks down at you over the tops of his cheeks and a sly grin spreads across his face. 

“Well,” you say, though it seems to not have any real purpose in your sentence. It’s almost like an admittance that he’s right, which he knows he is. “What does it matter if he knows, anyway? What’s there to know?” 

Satori stops walking, his hands buried deep into his pockets. His head hangs forward and his jaw is open in faux confusion. The strain in his neck posing like this is worth the smile you give him, he thinks. 

“That we fuck,” he states, saying it almost as if it’s a shock to him as well. 

You stop to  roll your eyes and Satori quite likes the way that the expression looks on you. Fed up, but pleasantly so. It gives your features a somewhat light, carefree sense. You look away from him for a moment, almost as if to accentuate just how nonsensical his manner of speaking is, before looking at his face and narrowing your eyes. You size him up and then give a small grin, almost mischievous in nature. 

“He suspects,” you say. “But it doesn’t seem like he thinks too hard about it. I think he might if we were like… ex’s or romantically involved, but we’re not, so,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s not serious enough for him to mind yet.” 

“Yet?” Satori raises his eyebrows and gives you an incredulous smile. 

Despite his demeanor, he feels something odd. It’s almost like his stomach is about to drop, and an unsettling feeling of dread begins to loom over him. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, impossibly pretty eyes giving him a very square look in the face.

“Yet,” you confirm, your tone a bit sharp as if to warn him that he’s stepping too close to the line. 

He’s not sure what he’s done to warrant that kind of reaction. Satori thought that he’d come off rather disconnected, aloof in the way that your agreement is, but it’s entirely possible that he’d sounded insecure. He furrows his brows at you, almost like he’s confused himself, and then shrugs in a non committal way. 

“Right,” he says, beginning to spin on his heel in an exaggerated manner. “Well, you have fun with Mr. Center-Of-Campus,” he smiles, continuing his sentence,” and I… will be going to my photography lab discussion.” 

“You do that,” you laugh, putting up a hand to wave. “I’ll catch you later.” 

“I’m sure you will,” he says, to which you respond by giving him a tired look and a shrug, like you’re admitting to the implication that you just can’t go without it. It being whatever the hell kind of sexual relationship exists between you two. 

Neither he nor you turns behind to glance at the other. Satori starts off back in his original direction and you dip into the building next to his. He’s sure that if he looked, you’d have your fingers looped through the straps of your backpack, probably greeting someone or other that you know on campus. 

You’re popular in a way that Satori isn’t. Truthfully, Satori is more notorious than liked and people know him for his strange, roundabout way of speaking and the knowing look in his eye. It doesn’t bother him to think that. He’s heard the way people talk about him, either directly from you or from walking up to a conversation a few moments too early. It doesn’t suit anyone to pretend that he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really mind knowing. It helps to weed out the people he wants to be around versus the people he doesn’t.

You, however, are very well liked. Sociable and blunt in your way of speaking. People like being around you, not just because you’re easy to look at, but because you’ve got a casual demeanor about yourself that makes people feel unjudged and at ease. It’s actually one of the first things that Satori had ever noticed about you, the way that you settle into a conversation as if you’d always been meant to be a part of it. No need to switch subjects or guide it to a more suitable position, you seem to blend effortlessly into social scenes, whether you notice it or not. Maybe it’s because you’re very true to yourself. You don’t recognize yourself as a perfect person and, as a result, you never hold the expectation that someone else should be perfect. 

Satori thinks you’re like-minded in that way, though his interpretation of other people’s flaws is more rooted in his treatment by others. People are quick to judge and in all his years of being judged, Satori has just come to accept that that’s the way things are and he can’t blame humans for simply being human. Still though, he has the same idea that people’s flaws aren’t a reason for judgment. They just… exist and that’s fine. 

He slides into a desk along the wall, quickly glancing around the room at the people who have already filed in. He’s only a few minutes early and most of his class are already in their seats with their cameras on their desk. Satori doesn’t know many people in this discussion and the majority of his class is either made up of girls that are too afraid to introduce themselves, or pretentious boys who spend too much time thinking about what tortured artists they are and too little time on the actual composition of their photos. 

He wishes that Ushiwaka had been able to take this class with him. Satori had suggested that he try to enroll at the beginning of the spring semester, but with the class being an upper division, Ushiwaka didn’t have the previous coursework to be able to do it. Besides, Wakatoshi isn’t really in school for the classes, but rather because he’d been scouted by the campus’ volleyball team to play for them and Wakatoshi had gone because it was a good opportunity to get into the professional division. In that sense, Satori feels that he’s falling behind his friend. After all, Wakatoshi knows what he wants, but Satori only knows what he likes. 

This class is pretty irritating. Not just because he has to get up and leave for it at the asscrack of dawn, but also because he feels that the discussions lack any real insight. Every week, they’re expected to upload their photos onto their computers and bring them to class, then, they spend the entire hour going around and discussing goals for the project and what could be improved with their current techniques. It would be useful if Satori didn’t find that so many people half-assed their photos the day before and then brought them in with some made up philosophy on why the snow in the crack of the sidewalk symbolizes their incessant need for human connection. 

He doesn’t think this way because he’s innocent of half-assing. In fact, Satori half-asses a lot. Sometimes because he can’t be bothered and other times because he finds the work less valuable than something else he could be doing. Still, he likes taking pictures and this is a class centered entirely on developing a personal work portfolio. It’s easy for him to do the assignments because it’s essentially what he does in his free time anyway, so there are times when he feels that maybe these people just don’t care too much about school at all. That’s a fine thought to have, he thinks. Most artists think like that in some way or another. 

Satori wonders if it’s the same in your major. Do literature students phone it in and do you find it irritating? He thinks you probably aren’t bothered by it if they do. It wouldn’t be in your nature to get worked up over the actions of others. You hardly even get worked up over your own actions and he thinks it would be weird to see you get in your head over someone else. 

He sits through his class though, explaining the photo he’d taken of you in the early morning after you’d spent the whole evening talking and touching each other. Your face is obscured and your belly is pressed down against the mattress. It’s really only an off centered photo of your back, displaying the lovely curve of it against the crumpled white bed sheets and a bit of your hair. There may not be anything special about the photo to anyone else, but Satori remembers how badly he’d wanted to photograph you then. 

Intimacy is pleasant to him in small doses. He likes to play pretend when it comes to loving and he’ll touch you like he loves you, let you touch him like you do, but Satori doesn’t ever think he’ll do it for real. At least not right now when he is so consumed by catching up to his peers in some arbitrary way. Still, the picture is a pleasant reminder to him that intimacy exists even in the most mundane of moments. Arguably, it is most present in them. 

He doesn’t say all of this to his class though and someone describes the photo as almost pornographic, which he supposes that it is. It gives the impression of two people just after they’ve gone to bed together and he laughs to himself because that’s exactly what it is. Satori just shrugs his shoulders at the comment. That’s just about what your physical relationship to each other is, isn’t it? Almost pornographic in nature, indulging in each other the way lovers might without ever stopping to think if romantic love factors into the actions at all.

[fire-lizard-ro]

Helloo hehehe im the one that asked for a columbina s/o~ it was really good :D

Can u maybe make some head cannon about them being in a relationship? Hehhe it you dont mind :) thats all ty <33

Hehehe ofc!!! I'd like to make the disclaimer again that I don't really know the character Columbina all that well, but I will try my best!!! So sorry for any mischaracterization. Thank you for sending in your ask~

Reader gender: gender neutral

Like we talked about before, you and Sunday would be partners in crime. The manipulative duo.

I think that the two of you would probably enjoy dates like going to the opera. When the singer is good it wasn't uncommon to find the two of you with eyes closed, you leaning against him, enjoying the sweet melodies of the songs. When it wasn't so great, the two of you would be whispering your criticism in each other's ears with giggles.

Sunday would like hearing you sing more, though. Even if it is just a sweet little humming under your breath as you two are settled down together to read together or perhaps do other things within each other's presence. He is, however, more than aware of the abilities you have. They impress him every time and to know that you could always control him but don't makes his heart swell with affection. A chaste, but no less full of passion than any other kiss, would be pressed to your lips. "Thank you, dove." (I've started to use "dove" as his nickname for the reader recently- It just makes sense to me.) Whether he's thanking you for the song or for not trying to put him under your control with you voice, you'll never know. He just gives you that smile of his.

It was always a treat to hear his voice as well. He's not nearly as inclined to it as you or even his sister. You and her get along quite well, I'd think. Especially since she doesn't really know about the manipulative tendencies you and your lover have. Some things are better not knowing, hm? In any case- If you asked, he would sing something for you. The songs are always gentle and slow. If it was upon your request that he is singing, he's likely to sing a love song of some sort- It's funny. Almost like a pretty bird courting his love with a song despite them already being his.

And like I'd forgotten to write last time:

When the two of you kiss, your wings often bump into each other so cute oml-

The first time it happens, it startled a chuckle out of the normally composed man. He'd lean in again to kiss you once more, this time pursposefully caressing your wings with his while he holds you close.

When he'd managed to figure out that you and he were one in the same, he slowly brought you in on his schemes and work. After asking you outright about it once he was certain of it, he'd have you help him with his... persuations. You would subtly be humming to yourself whilst he spoke with people, influencing them to sway to his side. His ideas and thoughts suddenly sound perfect to them. On a larger scale- When he'd host dinner parties as a leader of Penacony with the elite, you would act as the entertainment for the night. You would sing for them as they mingled, slowly beginning to take control of them. But once the main act was upon you, you singing your final song of the night, it was then that you would use your power the most that night (not fully, but more than before). And just like that. They were again ensnared and ready for his use. He'd plant ideas and thoughts in their minds while under your control.

And as everyone would leave for the night, h'd wrap an arm around your waist and kiss your temple. "You did amazing tonight, my love. Let's celebrate, hm?" He'd say this in a low voice before leading you back into the house for a glass of wine or whatever else tickled your fancy.

Sorry there isn't more... OTL

It's a bit hard to write for me, haha. Hope you liked it! Feel free to send in another request if you'd like~

[ellieslittleburrow]

Requested by the beloved @fatherlesschild2 : CAN YOU WRITE SOMETHING ANGSTY ABOUT SHERLOCK AND ENOLA BEING SIBLINGS WITH READER, IDK I HAVE A QUESTIONABLE IMAGINATION BUT MAYBE THE READER GETTING INTO A FIGHT AND TRYING TO HIDE IT?

Warnings : uuuuuuuum angst? Grr scary brother

A/N: sorry for the delay lol. I had to copy and paste every single line from my other account so if something's out of place im soorry hahahah ❤️

------

*creak*

God damn you st-

*creak*

Maybe if i went slower

"God da-"

"Young lady."

Your eyes flew up as your lips parted in a little gasp. Before you stood a large figure. Broad shoulders and a threatening stance, it towered over you, causing you to freeze in place.

Tiny splinters dug into your frozen fingers as you gripped the stair handle, tightening your hold the more Sherlock kept silent.

I mean, is he going to keep standing there until the sun sets and the birds start churping?

Your older brother stepped aside, motioning for you to step inside. And you complied, slowly and hesitantingly.

"Youngsters ought not to be wandering about late at night, particularily when expressly told ,on multiple counts, not to slip out." Sherlock patienly waited for you, taking after you the moment you passed by him.

You felt smaller with a much bigger shadow than you. But you kept your posture straight, anyways.

Your head was feeling too heavy for your liking and you just wanted to sleep.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock, is there any way we could do this tomorrow morning? Now's not the time for a lecture." The words came in a gruff tone. And as if you weren't already in enough trouble with the man, you just headed for the room you and sister Enola shared.

"Sure...Tomorrow." Sherlock's voice sounded." Good night, little one."

"And don't think i didn't see those marks on your neck"

Fuck.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow."

--

It's tomorrow.

A pain is etching from your temple down to the hollow part that sits under your cheek.

Flashes of your....eventful evening storm in from your subconscious and a long sigh escapes your lips.

" Finally awake."

AH. You shriek, your body jerking to the uncomfortably close voice over you. Rolling around halfway, you jump backwards, shrieking at the two people standing over you.

What the hell?

Sherlock and Enola were standing at your bed, both leaning down to examine you like you're a cadaver they were just about to start inspecting.

But you weren't. So why the fu-"

"How did you get that, y/n?" The investigator's eyes dart from your own eyes to your cheek, and you unconsciously cover the said thing with your hand.

Uh....you were't sure whether to lie or not. Whether to tell the whole truth or just half of it.

"Uhhh..." A long sigh escaped your lips without your accordance as you hadn't already decided on which story to tell yet. "Uh..." You stuttered again, flustered.

You shrink in your bed, melting into the sheets as you leaned away from the figure that lowered it's upper body over yours.

"Little one, your answer better be the right one."

Sherlock's eyes calculatedly pursuited yours until they locked.

Dark and threatening, they glared into your soul. Shit. How can someone regret their decision the second they made it?

"I....I fell down the bar stairs."

Fuck. How can someone regret their decision the second they made it?

Sherlock straightens his back. "Really?"

"Y...yeah. you c-c-an ask the men th-there if you want." You got out of bed, the opposite side of where your siblings were standing.

"I was walking....I might've had a drink or two." Maybe admitting to another forbidden punishable act will help you elude the real thing? "And as i was walking down, my ankle twisted and i found myself flying down the stairs."

You brushed past both of them, heading for the door. Nice lie! If they were to go ask the men there, nobody would be able to say a single word, because all of them would have been too drunk to even know their own names.

You'd highfive yourself but-

"Alright then, show me the other bruises."

You were glad your back was facing them, as your eyes widened in surprise. Fuck! You didn't think of that. "The ones on your hands and knees, probably, as well as your hip." Triumph laced Sherlock's voice. You internally damned him to an afterlife in hell.

"What...other bruises?"

"Well of course i can't do that!" You spin around, disdain etched across your face. You scoff.

"I can't undress myself in front of y-"

Haha! Enola. You almost forgot about h-

"He'll leave the room."

You snort a provocative chuckle "You really believe i think of you any differently, Enola?"

"I'm sure he trusts my decision making by now." Your sister lifted a triumphant brow.

Enola's eyebrows relax as annoyance etches across her face. She sighs and happiness internally floods your body. Looks like you were close to win the battle. With her.

"How's this?" Anger embodies Sherlock.

Definitely only with her.

"Lie and i will make sure you...never do that again."

Sherlock started walking towards you.

"But then again, i would like for you to spare us the anticipation, i already know you're lying. Because your-"

"Because my toes seem strange and i breathed in instead of out?"

"Because your friend came running here and said you were getting yourself in really bad trouble. And that it was only a matter of time before somebody got badly hurt."

Oh..of course she did...

"Listen, y/n, we understand that you're afraid of our reactions." Enola started, crossing her arms over her chest. "But you can't hide those things from us, we're your siblings."

Adorable-not good enough, though. Not to insult Enola's attemps and efforts, but you'd never do that just because you're siblin-"That's Enola."

"On my part, if i ever find out you're lying to me about something like this, i will make your life a living hell, little girl. And trust my words, i will make sure of it."

Your head spun towards Sherlock, a bit surprised and...scared as darkness suddenly swamped his voice.

You would've rolled your eyes at him but you were already in enough trouble. You wouldn't want to bury yourself in it, would you?

"I'm sorry." The lie slipped out of your lips like butter. You're not sorry. You don't care. In fact, you're not done with those stupid bastards. And you're not one to let go easily.

Thankfully, they weren't going to know since your face was already bruised. Or are they?

------

I HAVE A QUESTIONABLE IMAGINATION TOO I WILL DO BETTER NEXT TIME OKI KISSIES NOW BYE BYE. ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

[svt-nari]

svt reacts to nari and cheol (pt. 1) !

jeonghan:

— he always knew about cheol’s feelings and he was sure they would end up together.

— it was just a matter of time in his opinion.

— when cheol called him saying that it was the day he was gonna confess, that he was a nervous wreck, jeonghan was exploding from happiness.

— he just wants what’s best for his members!

— when nari told him through message that it had happened he just knew he had to tease them about it.

— the only one who has the balls to tease nari tho…

— he wasn’t surprised but he was really happy, one of the most excited ones once he found out that they were - finally - together.

— helps them with whatever he can just to see them happy and healthy.

joshua:

— shua found out through nari because she was a nervous wreck about meeting cheol.

— poor baby was nervous for his friend :(

— i mean, nari made him nervous through their phone call…

— got so hyped up when he got the news that they were finally a couple!

— the one who takes most of their pictures ^^

— baby was so serious about letting the other members figure it out by themselves.

— like, bro acted all surprised when they decided to break the news to all of the others!

— acted all 😱😱😱😱

— and nari just rolled her eyes at him with a “bro you already knew it”

— which made him shush her bc he didn’t want the other to feel left out

— which earned him a lot of ‘boo’s.

— he’s just protective of his friends and wants the best for them.

jun:

— junnie was in china when cheolri decided to finally be a couple

— so, nari called him right after she got home from their date

— and SCREAMED to jun about it

— was all “WE ARE DATING!”

— and poor junhui was so startled that he just understood what she meant on the other day

— so he sent her a cute ‘im happy for you 🥰’

— he literally sent a message to minghao right after

— and was all like “bruh, they finally got together”

— so he ended up killing two birds with a stone

— he’s one of nari’s number 1 fanboy which results in him fighting cheol sometimes

— ^ only kidding tho, jun knows he’s too young to die so he doesn’t test cheol’s patience

— he’s overall just really happy that they found their happiness in each other.

hoshi:

— so. damn. dramatic.

— like, bro almost cried because, according to him:

— “my nari is too young to get married!”

— and the couple’s eyes got so wide with his statement

— started denying - even though they really considered the idea - that they would get married that soon.

— was upset for awhile

— especially when they told him he wasn’t the first one to know about it

— ^ full on sulking for an entire week until nari bribed him with a new phone case.

— really supportive!!!

— cries a lot about them when he drinks, saying that they only deserve happiness.

— cares a lot for them and nari is really grateful for it.

wonwoo:

— my boy wonwoo was actually the one who first said that they really matched each other’s energies.

— like, in his gut he knew there was something else

— so he wasn’t that surprised when they told him that they were together.

— ^ just shocked with his newfound skill.

— likes to pride himself in that though.

— he secretly enjoy watching them together,

— brings a kind of comfort watching the two of them being all lovey-dovey with each other.

— he snaps a picture or two whenever he has the chance.

— tells them to enjoy every moment together

— he’s glad that they have each other.

woozi:

— he knew that the lyrics nari wrote were describing someone he knew,,,

— all the sweet smiles whenever she talked about the song were the same ones she would direct to coups

— he pieced everything together quite quickly

— then, one day, nari arrived at the studio earlier with cheol

— ^ they were recording for the new album

— and woozi was in a meeting with the other producers before he went to the recording session

— to his surprise, when he entered it, the couple was holding hands while sitting on the couch

— with nari’s head on cheol’s shoulder

— and then he knew

— teased cheol for a good time

— like, whenever he receives lyrics that are all overly sweet

— he will immediately call seuncheol out on it and start the bickering

— though, he uses them for inspiration since he can feel the love whenever they are together.

— proud that they don’t care about what anyone has to say.

all rights reserved © svt-nari, 2023

[liauditore]

LIAU MY BELOVED

ask game question

Jimmy x Martyn

:D

romeo asking for mirror birds in MY ask box?!!?!??!?!?! (i know u pref mirror birds but solidwood is too funny im so sorry)

ah yeah. these losers.

see, a lot of my thoughts surrounding these two would kind of spoil my own AU that i never make stuff for so im usually somewhat hesitant to talk about them but basically., (toxic!fh mention)

post-evo divorced property police is so real. ive always imagined it as a childhood friends situation, with martyn being a bit older than jimmy.

they probably caught feelings for eachother fairly late and already well into teenhood but neither of them were really sure what it was (this is maybe going a little bit into sexuality hc territory but ive always imagined jimmy as whatever the male equivalent of a useless lesbian is and martyns biphobic towards himself lmao).

i touched on this briefly in that one fic i wrote but i've always headcanoned martyn as being somewhat parentified and thus ties his worthiness to be loved into his ability to perform acts of service for someone rather than just.. existing and letting himself be loved.

so as jimmy became more independent, martyn becomes a bit more insecure about their friendship. this becomes a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy as he distances himself from jimmy, feeling like jimmy wouldn't love him if he didn't Need him, and jimmy in return feels confused and hurt as he helplessly watches someone he knew all his life drift away.

that + jimmy has this not-so-subtle crush on scott that martyn's always suspected. he's a jealous bitch.

The storm formed after a final sip, my fingertips frozen solid, I pretend that again I can see, you past the rails, ready to meet And I wonder is it too much to ask, to once more, hold you warm in my hands? To accept I can’t forget, and embrace what still fails to fade?

Milk Tea (Oktavia's translyrics) (because I wasn't kidding when I said these two were cheesy yuri to me lmao)

we had a clown to clown communication moment i think cus I also love the idea of them splitting up and meeting in Third Life years and years later (altho i like to imagine it as more of a voluntary separation).

some stuff copy+pasted from that cursed shipping doc i mentioned awhile back: ((scott + jimmy became a thing while martyn was gone pre-3L))

Now reuniting in 3L as fully grown adults after years apart, all those suppressed emotions come bubbling back up to the surface. An adult Martyn is much less unsure about what he's feeling and Jimmy still has those fantasies of what could have been playing on loop in his head. Of course, Jimmy is still attached to Scott and can't abandon his Bethrothed. He loves and knows what's best for him, he would sooner die than forsake his loyalty. But it does hurt when he hits him. Martyn still cares for Jimmy deeply, whether he wants to or not. He takes the time to keep an eye out for him, even though they had no real reason to interact anymore. He becomes one of the only people to realise what Scott was like with him, how devoid of love it all was. He throws out a line, offers to help him run away. Jimmy refuses. Betrayal. A second time. For the same man. Who cares about Jimmy anyway? (he always did take me for granted)

(a little note here before anyone sets me on fire - time works a bit differently in my writing and the players don't have exact ages but jimmy and martyn's age gap is probably not as dramatic as their cc counterparts)

(it's still there but neither of them even recognise their feelings as remotely romantic until they reunite as adults, as kids it's all just them being silly and having grade school drama with each other)

So uh yeah lots of mutual pining and suppressed feelings and puppy love turned angst👍 tis all i shall say cus i wanna make art of the rest lol

Just a second to lessen the ache, or minute to kiss it away I’d give all I have for the chance to go back to youth and you

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Did somebody say... ANOTHER RAMBLE?

*Barges in like about to stop a wedding*

(But thank you for wanting my rambles and liking them! I appreciate it and hope you have amazing day as well!)

OKAY SO, REMEMBER YOUR HELEL (ithaqua s tier skin) FANFIC. YOU SON OF WONDERFUL PERSON, I WAS LITERALLY OBSESSED OF THAT FANFIC, BUT I GOT IMAGINES WHILE READING THAT FOR ABOUT.. wait, let me count.

2329th

2330th..

Around 22331!

I WILL BE EXCITED IF YOU WRITE PART 2, but if you don't want! It's alright. I respect your boundaries and you of wanting what you want to write! I'm chill with it!

WHAT IF LIKE.. Well, probably like imagine too, WHAT IF S/O (the Farmer girl!), BUT S/O IS LIKE ROYALTY TOO (changing reputations here!), was actually and supposed to be betrothed to Helel when they were young/children. Like child marriage and all that.

I do think Helel would be surprised as child back then, but how children would react, he would be upset and confused. But he slowly accept it, thinking his fiance may as well be not so interested to him anyways. BUT THEN, when this motherfucker entered the room where he would meet his betrothed partner, and quickly fall in love at the sight of them.

His once act of bored and "man I don't want to be here, at all!" Turned into child-like and puppy crush on S/O, liking them already as he doesn't want to change at all. But, I think this is start of Helel obsession as well..

BUT ALSO TWIST HERE, Nathaniel (Or Nebu, I don't know which design suits him. But I like Ithawua Hunter! Nathaniel Nebuchadnezzar design more! I think it suits him!), Nebu actually likes S/O, but hearing them being betrothed to his own literal brother, Helel. He's upset and doesn't talk to Helel for awhile. MOSTLY YEARS AS THEY GROW UP

But during and after Helel exile, even though he's supposed to be the crowned king, with Nebu being now the Sun King. As he has the power with Helel gone as well (He coming back later), he makes S/O his own lover. Even though S/O promise themselve to only love Helel (it can be out of love or only doing it to satisfy the royals)

S/O situation will be like the farmer girl on the fic, locked up the cage and their body getting used, but with more punishment if S/O keeps mentioning Helel

But when Helel comes back (with trust issues), I think he will regeconize his own betrothed. Feeling happy and relief, just to see his own betrothed, but seeing what Nebu has done to them. You may hear some... Screams in the brother dungeon

But remember, Helel is very much fucked up after his years old exile. So, he's still the same but more overprotective and does keep his betrothed in the golden cage. Like trapped dove, with body of a delicate doll.

(I HAVE HYPERFIXATION ON THIS FANFIC)

(SORRY I'M BOTHERING YOU WITH BORDER OF RAMBLES!!)

Im screaming rn THIS IS SO GOOD AAA

As for part two to 'Darling Bird' idk cuz it my first idv fic and alot has changed i think in how i write Helel (he very corrupted) and my unnecessary need to world build bzjjzjzj that prob cringe and very religious themed ndnsjsj but one day jzjzjz

God i love these asks sobs pls if you have discord pls join my server! We are all screaming about florian (and florian x reader x norton lololol)

ALSO IM THINKING THT LUCA YOU WROTE TOO AAAA i miss him hchvnj my adhd brain exploding lol

[dreamsicle262]

sigma should join the ada this, sigma should join the ada that.

why not just flip everything around and make it worse? im talking the ada and doa swap, the pm and guild swap, while standalones (like shibusawa (although he could be an honorary detective for the doa replacing the ada because there might need to be more detectives instead of four...) or maybe even ayatsuji) keep their roles. no more ada/pm swap aus where everything else is the same. the way i see it, if you're gonna swap a few things around, then every organization should be affected, not just those two. plus, imagine how certain characters would think. their personalities and goals will be relatively the same but there will be changes too, as their organizations also head towards different goals.

i mostly started thinking about this because the idea of the doa replacing the ada is just rlly funny to me and i already have things to say about it. firstly, the name change: Ace Detective Agency. keeps the ada acronym intact, and also assures ppl that these few detectives can ace a case. it also alludes to casino motifs, which is actually how they get money in the times they don't have very many available cases; instead of a cafe, there's a casino run by sigma part-time whenever he's not doing detective work. not to mention that casinos might draw certain criminals to them, especially if they're the gambling type. enough of that though.

the agency office itself will also have somewhat of a casino aesthetic to it, as well as personal areas being decorated in such as way that it reveals the personalities of the four main members (i have erased fukuchi from this universe entirely as he has no use being in it). and yes, you read that right. four. im keeping bram. he deserves to at least have his lower body in this au so he can do things. speaking of which, everyone would still be pretty eccentric, especially nikolai, even if he isn't a murder-happy clown (he is still a clown tho)

nikolai is the type to have a pretty messy desk (full on clown desk with lots of props to prank people with; the whoopee cushion is the bane of sigma's existence), and i could see him also being the first to greet clients (and potentially spook them with his general attitude). he'd still have his core values of freedom intact, but minus the act of being a deranged murderer. essentially, a slightly more stable version of himself, but that really isn't saying much since he still has a weird obsession with murder cases. bro's probably been consuming too much true crime media despite literally being a detective. he also has a pet bird that he hides in his overcoat and brings to work, much to sigma's dismay. i'll let him keep the overcoat due to it being an integral part of his character design due to the nature of his ability, but let it be known that he will be getting a redesign.

sigma is pretty much the same, honestly. he's also the founder of the agency and has shown to be capable of running his casino as well as the agency, but he has thought of letting someone else run his casino full-time. it gets stressful having two roles to fulfill, after all. anyways, he handles himself well and is able to pay off the two rented out floors he has control over due to the amount of money he gets from both jobs. he also pays his employees fairly. overall, he's like an overworked millennial (not to mention a mom friend to nikolai still being a bit of a dumbass even in this au) but at least he's managing. his desk is neat and clean, decorated with casino related things. he tries to get to the door before nikolai can in order to not get his new clients scared away by how over-the-top his clown of a friend can be. sigma takes on less violent cases, although he is perfectly capable of taking them on as well, if need be.

fyodor. yeah, him. his desk is pretty bland, except for the necessities. he makes no move to actually talk to the clients and would prefer that they get to the point. a bit hard to read for the others, even nikolai, which is wild given that they're kinda close. doesn't take up cases often, but when he does, they get FINISHED. he's a very efficient person. as for the times he's not on a case, he's somewhere else. is he gathering intel? is he simply slacking off? is he secretly a traitor somehow? no one will ever know. he's the top detective, at least.

bram refuses to work during daylight hours. his vampiric nature prevents him from being able to do that effectively. this is still good for business though, because he can take up night cases when everyone else goes home for the day! not to mention that being met with a vampire if you tried to break into the agency when you thought everyone had left would NOT be a fun day (or night) for you. his desk is in the darkest part of the room, away from any windows. he's present during the day, it's just that he does mostly office work instead of actual cases. the fridge in the lunch room is always stocked up on blood bags for him, even though he'd probably much rather prefer drinking from someone directly. at least there's a microwave for him to heat them up with. he's also very polite with clients, surprisingly. however, he has yet to stop sprinkling in old english in his conversations with others, but he's learning.

i wasn't planning on turning this entirely into a doa detective agency au post, but i'll elaborate on the other organizations and their members later.

[magicofrobin]

thoughts on huntress & red hood costume swap + general red hood costume thoughts probably

(inspired by a post from @birds-of-x)

helena asking jason how he can wear all those layers when he's out fighting bc she's HOT as FUCK in his costume and he shrugs it off like, "well normally im not out when the sun is out so? that's not a problem" or "it's usually kind of cold in gotham"

and those are sort of true reasons, but they're not the most important factors?

and i do think at some point he explains it to helena at some point but in a This Isn't A Big Deal Please Don't Make It One (which is usually how he handles telling dick things bc dick. doesn't necessarily overreact but he does empathise rlly strongly and he's got that protective big brother energy sometimes + he. does try to get jason to talk to him)

the reasons for all his layers tho!

protection is a big one. he's got hella armor / padding / protection on his costume bc he knows what it's liking going out in a costume without any of that. robin didn't have that much protection on him and look how that ended up.

he doesn't like feeling exposed. this has lots of different factors playing into it but a big one once again relates back to robin. robin didn't wear as much as he does now and again, it's all about knowing how those injuries feel and not wanting to feel them again. (& i think. just being uncomfortable – even back then – with people being able to see a lot of him. like if you consider how his robin costume changes in utrh, he adds pants and long sleeves to his costume. this is a boy who desires more protection AND wants to be covered up more. ill die on this hill)

this is rooted in a personal hc of mine but i think jason pretty much always feels cold since hes come back to life. like physically he's warmish to the touch but he's ALWAYS cold. so all the layers help fight that a little bit. so where helena ends up too hot under all his layers he'd only?? feel kind of warm.

& he'd be ??? when she questions the full mask / hood. unless he hadn't explained everything abt how & why he came back to gotham lmao. if he hasn't he's going to be like... yeah i didn't want bruce or anyone else to know that i was red hood. it would've ruined the whole revenge plan shit.

then once his identity reveal happened he'd tell helena that he kept wearing it bc bruce and dick found out he's walking around with what's essentially a bomb on his head and they'd didn't care for that much. so it's part of his whole Menace Energy yknow

(in my heart it's tim that told them. it was payback for something)

in the context of the costume swap i Hope that helena already knows his mask has explosives and she doesn't just find out then. while she's wearing it. & once again he's acting like it's not a big deal, as if it doesn't tell people he has a massive death wish.

but basically his entire red hood costume was designed with safety in mind. the explosive mask bc he'd rather die again then be captured and tortured like he was. armor and layers so no skin is exposed so injuries aren't as bad. he's giving himself the protection he needed as robin that bruce didn't think to give him.

this is one of the last things i want to say i think, but if you consider how i picture jason's costume for my interp than he's wearing TWO jackets (hes got his heavy jacket & hoodie) + a long sleeve shirt. helena has to be DYING i feel so bad for her

[langernameohnebedeutung]

Im rewatching season 1 how crazy it is that liv could have- probably not, but it would have definitely changed things- stopped blaines brain business by supplying him with brains herself. It would have been nice to have another zombie during those early days to talk to, esp if liv still believed blaine was making a change in his life or whatever he said. Kinda like what lowell was to her but less british

(I actually have this very similar AU-idea that I like to explore at the bottom of my hindbrain 'what if Liv hadn't seen Blaine in that alleyway and had been willing to buy into his 'repentant drug dealer' persona and they had been on semi-friendly terms for the first season)(though I kind of like the angle that he still does the brain business thing. And Ravi and Liv (and Major, separately) catch on to the fact that a brain business exists and try to find out who is running it - and even clue Blaine in case he can help and perhaps he delivers them wrong information or otherwise manipulates them) so it's a bigger personal betrayal when they find out that it was Blaine all along)

The thing is, I think it's a bit of a veeeery soft retcon they did at the beginning of season 2 (or perhaps just a clarification) because when the cast talks about Blaine's original return in the second episode, they talk about how it was supposed to be very ambiguous where he's standing.

But at the start of season 2, Blaine mentions that Angus was his 'first customer' - and since the first person we see him infect for his business is Jackie (we don't really know when he infected the Meat Cute gang or when he stored Julien and the others in his freezer), season 1 leaves the option that Jackie was the start of his business and that he used her money to expand OR that she was just one of many in a row. Saying Angus was the first means he would already definitely have been at it for a while when he found out about Liv. (On the other hand, it could be argued that infecting and 'owning' Angus is so personal that it doesn't really count as part of the bigger brain business scheme. That maybe he just infected him to keep himself afloat AND to get back at his father and then only later decided 'hey, actually I can do this to everyone I want!' (or perhaps he just told Angus that he was the first, but personally, I like the theory that he went straight to Angus the moment he had a shot at revenge. Plus, I don't think he would tell Angus that he was the first if he wasn't - because that would be admitting how much power Angus still has over him.)

Though, I also think that the way in which Blaine infects Jackie...seems pretty routined and pre-meditated. And when he did that, it was before the alleyway scene so at that point, Blaine still thought Liv was going to give him brains. So to me that certainly always felt like the plan was to x two birds with 1 stone:

a) check out the people who are looking for me online and who are working at a morgue and stay in touch to keep an eye on them (and the cops by extension)(after all, he even does a similar thing in season 2, when he wants Liv to keep an eye on Dale for him)

b) do hapless remorseful drug dealer and fellow zombie act, secure brain, secure customer, play grateful that Liv is giving you brains but sell them off behind her back. Profit! >:)

(that's my personal interpretation though)

But I also definitely would have enjoyed if there had been a longer period of just...uncertainty about what Blaine's deal is and more time in which to perhaps explore Liv's feelings about Blaine's part in her infection and everything that happened at the boat party at large and also perhaps the way her feelings on the matter conflicted with Ravi's, who was a lot more willing to give Blaine the benefit of the doubt. (and you know who could have given us that??? the old 24-episode format!! ...but that's another passion topic of mine)

(On the other hand, it's also a topic that I feel a bit conflicted on because I've seen some people (cough reddit! cough) literally blame Liv for the bullshit Blaine does à la "ohh, surely Blaine wouldn't have gone and built a giant business on the back of murdered orphans if Liv had just shared that brain with him in ep. 2" ...which. nah. I think that is an obstacle that could be overcome without going full Mrs. Lovett.)

[prsk-krow]

pspspsp pspspp

HI KROW !! Ive come to give a request 😋

If youre able to, could you write hcs of Mafuyu x Soloist Reader? I think itd be cute since they could work together and ahhh !! Im very tired so i dont have much to say but, LOVE U HAVE FUN W THIS

{Mafuyu with soloist reader!} [P]

Hello Yuna! Thanks for the ask, and I definitely had fun! After all, writing for these characters is already plenty of fun! Also, I'm not a cat, I'm a bird-

It takes a while for Mafuyu to warm up to anyone, but if you're related to the music industry, you have a better chance of becoming her friend than most others!

The honor student isn't interested in many things, but the music world actually catches her eye! So when she was suddenly offered a chance to collaborate with another soloist on the internet, she was interested!

Even before the offer appeared, you've been in contact with her, trading tips for songwriting and how to interact with fans! At first, she didn't think much of it, but when the offer appeared, she understood that you definitely wanted to become closer...

She spoke about the offer with the others of the group, and they tended to react positively, but cautiously. After all, you had only written to her, and the rest knew little about you! So, she sends screenshots about your conversations. Let's just say, no one expected them.

Mafuyu, talking about music with someone else!? That was certainly unusual! Maybe she unconsciously though that she could trust you enough? The rest would encourage a collaboration, but only if it remained online for privacy reasons!

Before the call even starts though, you tell her that she doesn't have to worry about putting up an image! You've worked with asshole producers and marketers, so you can take whatever she throws at you! This puts up her guard, but she seems to be intrigued even more...

The call starts, and she does put up the act... At first. She never takes it fully off, but as the call progresses and your casual, relaxed tone makes the atmosphere more comfortable, she starts to lower the mask a bit... The fake expressions slowly become less forced, and her tone as well.

That's only the first one though. She's still hesitant to show you her real stoic self, but she still shows you more than anyone else! She also seems quite invested in the song you're creating together, and even learning a bit about your style...

Not just your style though! She learns about your goals, motivations, song preferences, even just random events of your life you mentioned while you two brainstormed some ideas! It lets her mind rest and not focus too much on the end result...

Sometimes, she randomly DMs you to start a casual conversation, only for her to just listen to you, saying anything that comes to your mind! After that, you two write a bit more, and then log off!

"... Oh, why am I not saying anything? Sorry, I just enjoy listening. Yeah, I was talking a lot the first time, but I prefer it this way. Hm?... Yes, it was acting. I never show my true side to anyone on a first meeting. That includes you, of course."

She could technically just finish writing the lyrics herself in a flash, but she waits for you, for your opinions and participations! She has never worked on lyrics alongside someone else, so it does feel a little strange.

Once you're done though, she feels as if her chest was not just warm, but light. As if there was a weight there she didn't even notice before, and now it was gone... She shows the lyrics to the group so that they combine it with the rest as always!

However, they're surprised to hear Mafuyu speaking so much about the process. It wasn't fast like usual, but by the amount she was talking, they could tell that she really got into it... They will silently agree to partner you two up again soon.

"... Why are you all silent all of a sudden? Hm, was I really speaking that much? You were the ones who asked though. Is it really that out of the ordinary... Hm, now that i think about it..."

She too will notice how she doesn't mind your presence, and voila! You have yourself a stoic girl who enjoys randomly messaging you to hear you speak whatever's on your mind!

Sure, she stays silent most of the time, but you can see that her smile slowly changes as you talk... Maybe, just maybe you're becoming special to her? Maybe you could be able to do more things together? Only time will tell...

[borathae]

DONE WITH ANOTHER EXAM u know what that means???

Chapter 34

fuck where is yoongi 😭😭😭kook come to ur senses please

OMG YOONGI wait did he just come because of kook, bruh we could have made out like a week ago 😔✊🏻

omg im so scared and nervous i wanna cry even tho its kook being scolded

NO DONT KILL HIM WTF YOONGI NO

“Thanks, but I can manage myself. I did so splendidly in the last two weeks” fr

He made you believe that he abandoned you. And now he is back. the entire para just summed up what we all felt Your anger feels so misplaced. Yoongi had a lot going on. After a millennia he felt again. He must have been so overwhelmed. Who knows what guilt and pain he went through those past two weeks. that is also true and idk what to feel aaaah feeling the pain of both people. DAMN U JUST PORTRAYED THAT SO WELL AND SUBTLE I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE IT

Where are those goddamn band aids FUCKING REAL U CAN NEVER FIND IT WHEN U NEED IT and u will find it in the same room, same drawer a week later 🥲

You made him turn his emotions on. It was your fault that he left in the first place. Be angry at yourself, that’s what you should do. its not exactly your fault, just a situation that had to happen

“Stupid bathroom!” you yell, throwing another cabinet closed. #justiceforcabinet2024

wow why is he so chill all of a sudden *trust issues be working on overtime

Is that what Jungkook could have too? 😭😭 yoongi pls dont leave again, i wanna be extra proud of kook

oh kook is sleeping for now (wtf i felt like a mama bird for a second there)

“Yes?” he exclaims, turning around almost excitedly. sir whats going on?? is it the emotions??? omg he is a pookie pls i love him bing bang boong forgiven already, who left for 2 weeks? nobody, idk such a thing

Now that he is so close again, you have forgotten everything you had wanted to tell him. oh it wasnt just me lol

“Doesn’t matter, I’m back now”, OK THATS IT FOLKS HE IS GOING TO LEAVE AGAIN 😭😭😭

oh a new plant 😭

Is he just staring? Oh dear. He is. PLEASE OUR SHY KITTY 😭😭

Oh how excited he sounds without even noticing that he does. 😭😭 do you want all of us to just cry every damn line? cuz u had done it

Yoongi is by your side, pretending to do the same while in reality he was looking at your face the whole time. HA SIMP ALERT (pls simp more we are simping for it)

“It’s not bad”, he agrees. You scoff, “such enthusiasm” Yoongi stumbles after you down the path, grumbling quietly. he is such a tsundere kitty i cant OFC HE LOVES HAND HOLDING NEVER LET GO

They are so bloody tiring” mood but numbness is too scary soo..

“They’re flowers, I don’t see any difference”, he grumbles, I LOVE HIM AND THE WAY YOU WRITE HIM I LOVE THEIR BICKER OVER SORRY HIS GRANDPA RUN AAAAH *watches a compilation

YOONGI BOONGI YAY HE ACCEPTED IT HAHA CUTIE PIE

“Forget it. I didn’t want to do it anyway”, i was cackling until i remembered this is how i act with mom, oh mom im sorry

YAY THEY ARE GOING GROCERY SHOPPING ALL DOMESTIC shit taehyung my baby 😭😭 THE JACKET RAAAAH

damn 1963, my mom wasnt born yet

no yoongi we dont growl here pls *blinks 😃😄😃 🫠 “he’s having a phase, please ignore him.” A PHASE STOP 😭

he is trying his hardest to stifle a laugh. THE JOKE PLS I LOVE HER HAHA guess he is going to have a hard time doing that

WE KISSED IN THE SNOW YIPEE YIPPEEE YIPPEEE YEEHAW HEE HOOO ✨🧚🏻🎆🎇💖😍🤩😻

ACCEPT THE COMPLIMENT YOONGLES YOURE A PRETTY MF GOT IT???

HOLY SHIT IT WAS A SPY DAMN WE JUST SAW A MURDER i literally just shivered

oh this time he answers her questions properly thats a difference hm

WTF OOF DAMN I - (did ever tell u that i love your writing and this bombastic story?)

It is not every day that you watch someone get beheaded or find out that someone wanted to fuck your dead body fr im still shivering and goosebumps are still there.

i love when they do vampire zoom haha

I’ve just lived long enough to have learned the skill.” Tae: 😃 ALSO IM SORRY YOONGI I LOVE THAT YOU CAME BACK but when is tae getting out?? 👉🏻👈🏻 great TAE MY BABY IM SORRY 😭😭 I CANT DO ANYTHING

“Are you manipulating me? she may or may not do that, but can she actually do that to you? yeah she cant so stop saying this

GREAT HE LEFT AGAIN WHERE ARE U NOW

i love when they talk, like everything just gets deeper, both her and him, the plot

OMG YOONGI wait did he just come because of kook, bruh we could have made out like a week ago 😔✊🏻

fjasdjf no he was genuinely in the midst of coming back when he suddenly heard the noises and then just came running 😭

He made you believe that he abandoned you. And now he is back. the entire para just summed up what we all felt Your anger feels so misplaced. Yoongi had a lot going on. After a millennia he felt again. He must have been so overwhelmed. Who knows what guilt and pain he went through those past two weeks. that is also true and idk what to feel aaaah feeling the pain of both people. DAMN U JUST PORTRAYED THAT SO WELL AND SUBTLE I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE IT

NO BUT I AM SO :( FOR BOTH OF THEM :((

You made him turn his emotions on. It was your fault that he left in the first place. Be angry at yourself, that’s what you should do. its not exactly your fault, just a situation that had to happen

the way you can see the learned guilt in her and in everything she does :(

wow why is he so chill all of a sudden *trust issues be working on overtime

I feel like he is just really nervous and trying not to scare her away with too much movement :(((

“Yes?” he exclaims, turning around almost excitedly. sir whats going on?? is it the emotions??? omg he is a pookie pls i love him bing bang boong forgiven already, who left for 2 weeks? nobody, idk such a thing

of course it's the emotions heheh <3 he is in loveeee <3

oh a new plant 😭

HE IS IN LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Is he just staring? Oh dear. He is. PLEASE OUR SHY KITTY 😭😭

I LOVE HIGMMGMGM

Oh how excited he sounds without even noticing that he does. 😭😭 do you want all of us to just cry every damn line? cuz u had done it

jfasdjf me fr fjadsjfa

Yoongi is by your side, pretending to do the same while in reality he was looking at your face the whole time. HA SIMP ALERT (pls simp more we are simping for it)

HE IS SO SWEET AND CUTE AND IN LOVEEEEEE

“It’s not bad”, he agrees. You scoff, “such enthusiasm” Yoongi stumbles after you down the path, grumbling quietly. he is such a tsundere kitty i cant OFC HE LOVES HAND HOLDING NEVER LET GO

no but I love him so much!!!!!!

They are so bloody tiring” mood but numbness is too scary soo..

100% :( gosh my boongie :(

“They’re flowers, I don’t see any difference”, he grumbles, I LOVE HIM AND THE WAY YOU WRITE HIM I LOVE THEIR BICKER OVER SORRY HIS GRANDPA RUN AAAAH *watches a compilation

same same same !!! I love him so much !!!!

damn 1963, my mom wasnt born yet

lmaoa mine was like 2 and my dad 3 kfadkf

no yoongi we dont growl here pls *blinks 😃😄😃 🫠 “he’s having a phase, please ignore him.” A PHASE STOP 😭

THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME BAHAHHAHAH

he is trying his hardest to stifle a laugh. THE JOKE PLS I LOVE HER HAHA guess he is going to have a hard time doing that

I LOVE HIM HE IS SO IN LOVEE

WE KISSED IN THE SNOW YIPEE YIPPEEE YIPPEEE YEEHAW HEE HOOO ✨🧚🏻🎆🎇💖😍🤩😻

I genuinely love this chapter so much 😭😭

HOLY SHIT IT WAS A SPY DAMN WE JUST SAW A MURDER i literally just shivered

HE IS SO COOL FOR MURDER THOUGH :)

i love when they do vampire zoom haha

lmaooa me

“Are you manipulating me? she may or may not do that, but can she actually do that to you? yeah she cant so stop saying this

I feel like she can JFAJDFJ he is way too smitten for her JFJADSFJ

i love when they talk, like everything just gets deeper, both her and him, the plot

SAME SAME SAME !!!! I LOVE THEMEEEEEE !!

[tortoisebore]

OKAY SO FOR MY RAMBLE REQUEST i wanna know the losers’ love language

YES YES YES

this one got SO long & sappy im so so sorry gfjgnfjkgnjfkn

first i think growing up in a situation of neglect and abuse would have made it difficult for sirius to understand what it meant to intentionally give and receive love, and he'd genuinely have no idea what to do with overly affectionate people (like james!!!) for a long time. but once he got out of that home situation and had some time to process and start heal from it, i think he'd be extremely affectionate with the people he loves.

physical touch would be the biggest one--once he was able to understand that touch could be something gentle and precious, it became the easiest way to show people that he loved them. he was hesitant with it for a while because he was afraid that other people might be uncomfortable with it like he had been, but that turned into him having a super sharp eye when it came to understanding peoples' comfort levels with different kinds of affection without them needing to say it.

so by the time he & remus get together he understands himself a lot better in that regard. if you would have asked before, he would have said his only real love language was physical touch because it was his first instinct & what he had experience with, but he didn't really need things like gifts or acts of service to feel loved. like, he got quite enough of that growing up between all the extravagant birthday gifts he never wanted and the home staff waiting on him hand and foot his whole childhood & thinks he could probably go his entire life without experiencing either of those things ever again.

but then he starts seeing remus and everything turns upside down. on their third date remus brings him a tiny green glass bird trinket that he'd found at the thrift store they stopped by during their second date. sirius hadn't bought it then, but remus went back and got it the next day just because he said he'd liked it. so sirius gets home from their third date and puts it on his windowsill and stares at it for like.....fifteen entire minutes and decides it's his most cherished possession and if he could save one single thing from his entire room in a fire, it would be the bird. and then he gives remus a key to his apartment the week after that in retaliation because fuck it he's literally in love with that stupid sweet idiot & it was either that or ask him to fucking move in on their fourth date

and then it's their six month anniversary and remus is coming over for dinner and sirius is gonna whip up a nice little fancy pasta situation, but he gets held up because some moron decided to knock over an entire shelf of CDs on the back wall of the music store where he's been working the last couple of months. so he calls remus on the verge of tears & tells him he's going to be really late and maybe they should reschedule and he's so so so sorry, and remus is nice about it because he's always nice but sirius feels like absolute shit because he'd made all these plans and now he has to spend two fucking hours putting the shelf back together and reorganizing the CDs.

so he trudges home in a mood and he's so so sad and it's been the literal worst day ever, but then he gets home and remus is already there. he's lit candles and cleaned the kitchen and set the table, and he's done a really good job at attempting the fancy pasta situation sirius had planned even though he's a shit cook, and sirius' favorite cheap wine from the grocery store is on the counter next to a pretty little bouquet of flowers. and remus goes 'happy six month anniversary!!' and he's so fucking sweet that sirius just....,,.bursts into tears in the doorway. and remus is like "uhh!!! 😧 i'm sorry!! hey wait hold on I'm sorry!! are you okay!!" and sirius literally wants to tackle him to the ground because !!!! no one has ever worked this hard to make him happy !!!! no one has gone out of their way like this just because they loved him !!!! and that's a really fucking emotional discovery to make when he's just spent two hours alphabetizing five hundred CDs.

physical touch is still his number one love language because it's comforting and calming and he likes feeling desired, but the times that remus picks up his favorite chocolate on the way home just because he wanted to or does all the laundry on the weekends sirius has a hard time at work are just as meaningful as the times that remus hugs him from behind while he makes their coffee in the morning or walks with a hand in his back pocket when they're out together. he's not picky about the way that remus loves him, but sirius knows he tries really hard to do it in the most meaningful ways and that alone is enough to make him feel more secure and more cherished than he's ever felt with anyone else.

now switching gears, remus is an introvert. like, imagine the biggest introvert you've ever met and then multiply that by a hundred. he has an ongoing problem with tuning out in the middle of conversations because his social filter hit E out of nowhere, or staying holed up at home for three days trying to get energy back after a night out. his time and energy are rare and fleeting gifts, so quality time has always been the biggest way he shows people he loves them. but he's never desired someone else's time until sirius.

sirius is energetic and bright and and magnetic and he doesn't even have to do anything special to have entire rooms of people gravitating towards him. he could do anything he wanted, talk with anyone he wanted, be anywhere he wanted, but the fact that he chooses to give his time and attention to remus means more than any words or gifts or acts of service ever could.

he's really fucking surprised that sirius even agrees to go out with him in the first place, and even more surprised that he's completely present and engrossed in every moment when they are out together. he doesn't get distracted with his phone, doesn't stop and make conversation with every person that waves at him when they're at his regular coffee shop, doesn't try to fill every silence with thoughts or words that don't matter. he's entirely content to just be together, which is more than remus could have ever hoped to find in another person.

so one evening in the summer they're at remus' place watching reruns of a show they'd already finished, and remus is thinking he's never been happier in his life than he is in that moment--just sitting together quietly, sirius tucked into his side with his head on his shoulder, tracing little patterns onto his palm and giving a little laugh at the tv every once in a while. and then sirius' phone rings on the other side of the couch and he answers it on speakerphone, and it's marlene saying she got him a last minute ticket to that concert in the park downtown they'd been trying to get into for weeks. sirius perks up and remus deflates--of course sirius is going to go, and he absolutely should, he's been talking about this concert all summer, remus is just sad he'll have to leave--but then sirius goes 'ugh i'm sorry, i had something come up and i can't go tonight, you should take dorcas!!!' and he hangs up and just settles back in and remus is like '....hello?? why aren't you going??' and sirius just shrugs and squeezes him a little tighter and goes 'i'd rather be here with you' and remus loves him so so so bad he thinks he might explode with it

and sirius is also really, really good at knowing when remus needs A Moment. he's always been able to read remus like a book, even back when things were new, like he has some kind of sixth sense that lets him know when remus is Done and needs to go home and recharge. recharging also sometimes means being alone, and after a very brief period of misunderstanding in their early days, sirius gets it, and he understands like no one else ever has and gives remus that precious space when he needs it. remus knows that's difficult for him some days, so he works really, really hard to pay attention and make sure he's doing everything he can to let sirius know how much he loves him, even when he needs to be alone sometimes. if that means leaving work early to meet him for the walk home or getting up at the crack of dawn on mondays to grab coffees before sirius wakes up then so fucking be it, he'll go out of his way every single day for the rest of his life if it means sirius feels even half of remus' love for him

he also never would have thought physical touch would become so important to him until sirius. remus wasn't ever one to reach out first, and sirius had always been touchy--casual their first few dates and then leaning further into it; holding remus' hand as they walked from his work to the coffee place down the street, playing with his hair absently while they watched a movie or before falling asleep, trailing an delicate hand up his shirt in public and blinking at him innocently when remus sent him a warning look, giving a sweet little 'i have no idea what you're talking about' while dragging his nails down remus' spine, all evil and smug about it, pushing his buttons expertly until remus pulls him from the room & tugs him in the direction of home. but remus loves those moments now, cherishes them just like he cherishes everything else, and feels more wanted than he ever has before

sirius taught him a lot about how to love other people, how to study and learn them well enough to understand what they need, and ask for help when he got it wrong. he learned a lot about self-worth, about feeling deserving of the abundance of love that had suddenly crash-landed into his life, how to sit with it and accept it and give it in return, just because he wants to