#but...he had a vested interest in not doing so

[gracieheartspedro]

how i imagine childhood best friend!eddie

my main masterlist - eddie munson masterlist

warnings: this is 18+, mdni, reader and eddie are 18+, tons of flirting, eddie is snarky, reader is also snarky, they grew up together but are no longer close, talks of sex with other people, mentions of std's, eddie wants reader and reader wants him, kissing. 2.1k words

After middle school, you did not relate to Eddie anymore

It may have to do with how his style changed, his music interests leaning more towards the darker side, he started to grow his hair out, his attitude towards authority shifting. You just felt that your friendship would dissipate.

But Eddie would still say hi to you in the hallway, trying to get your attention.

After junior year, you two were virtually strangers. 

So when senior year came around and you and your new friends made big plans for an End of Year Bash, you reluctantly invited Eddie at lunch. 

“Well look what the cat dragged in… How are you sweetheart? Still listening to that Prince cassette I got you for your 13th birthday?” You roll your eyes, extending an invitation out to him. “Me and my friends are throwing an end of year party. I was gonna invite you.” “Was?” You narrow your eyes at him, scanning him for any sign of a smirk. He was fucking with you and while you knew it, you wanted to see him break. “I think I’m gonna give your invite to Jeff or Gareth, because you’re annoying me.” “Oh come on, where’s the silly snarky girl I once knew? I miss her.” “She got tits and grew up. Are you gonna come or what?”

He gladly accepts the invitation, telling you that you better save him a dance.

You don’t even really think about Eddie again until you spot him in the middle of your friend’s living room, sticking out like a sore thumb. You swirl your jungle juice in your cup and down the rest before approaching him. 

You were a bit tipsy, but not drunk. You lick your lips as you walk through the crowd, tapping Eddie on his shoulder. 

“Thanks for coming.” You say, before he locks eyes with you. God, he did something different today, he looks… good.  “I don’t know what to do with myself.” He yells over the bumping music.  “Follow me, I’ll get you a drink.”

You get him a drink and have him come outside to smoke with you. You had picked up a bad habit, and luckily he had the same one. When you light up the cigarette, he matches your motions. 

The moonlight adds a cast over his features that sends you spiraling into the thoughts of possibly finding him attractive. When you were kids, you always thought he was just baby cute. But now… he looks like a man. 

His ripped jeans, his layed leather jacket and jean vest. He may have the rocker look, but his features are still soft. Especially his lips. 

“You good?” He asks you, noticing your piercing gaze.  You sit back in the lawn chair, pulling your cigarette out of your mouth. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, I’m good. Just a bit tipsy.” “You are still not good at lying. Never were.” You throw your head back, giggling, “Shut up, Munson. You don’t know me.” He throws his hands up in mock surrender, “You still talk with that high pitched voice, especially when you lie. Your eyebrows also do this thing-” “My eyebrows do not do a thing.” You say as your eyebrows do a thing. “They are doing it now.”

You roll your eyes, giggling to yourself. You how he’s right, but you can’t admit it to him, especially when he’s looking at you with such intention. 

“You look good, dollface. Popularity didn’t change you too much.” You smirk up at him, not taking much offense to the statement. “Being a huge nerd changed you, though.” He chuckles, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Is it the long hair or?” You point to his free hand,“The tattoos. And all those rings.” “What you don’t like?” He flicks some hair off his forehead, which for some reason makes you stare more. You smirk, shaking your head and finally coming back to reality, “You’re a dork.” “You used to be, too.”

You chew on your cheek, flicking some ash. You shift your ass on the chair to face him fully. He’s looking at you with a questionable expression, like he’s trying to read your mind. 

You hear someone starting to open the back door and you see a couple of your girlfriends drunkenly stumbling out. You call after them, making sure they are good. The one, Marissa, notes you and Eddie sitting together. 

“Ooo, you got the hots for the Freak?”

You want to die in that moment. You had told them all plenty of times of your childhood with Eddie and how much he had changed since you knew him. You never said it as a particularly bad thing, but your friends thought he was too strange for comfort.

You glance over at Eddie, wondering if you should respond or just act like you did not hear them. But he’s watching you carefully, indicating that he needed you to answer her. 

You clear your throat, “Eddie is just a friend, remember?” “I saw you through the door. You were staring at him like you wanted to suck his di-” You do not dare let her finish, screaming, “Marissa!”

She giggles as she walks towards the firepit with the other girls, leaving you and Eddie alone again. You want to just flip your chair off the edge of the deck, but you resist the urge.

Eddie stares into the side of your face, practically burning a hole into your cheek.

“You were staring at me like you wanted-” “I’ll kill you with my bare hands if you finish that sentence.”

Somehow, you end up spending the entire night talking with Eddie outside. You catch up about life, what new music you are into, and how you are excited to be working at a clothing store in downtown Hawkins. 

The night ends with you walking Eddie to his van and wishing him a goodnight.

Eddie opens up his door, the edge resting on the hinge of his arm,“So I’ll see you around, I guess.” “Yeah, we should… hangout sometime.” “Yeah, we should. Are you busy this weekend?” You think for a beat, “I work til 8 tomorrow and Sunday. Maybe we could-” He doesn’t let you finish, shaking his curls and grinning, “I’ll come see ya tomorrow. Maybe we can grab a late night dinner at Hank’s. That’s nearby right?” “Right next door.” “Perfect, I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

He gets to your work the next day at 7:30. It was odd seeing the guy who scares half of the females in your school in the middle of a women’s clothing store, but you knew he was harmless. You give him a smile, nodding your approval that he actually came through. 

“Well, well, well… Welcome to Patricia’s Boutique, can I help you find something, sir?” “Yeah, I’m looking for this hot chick who works here.” “No hot chicks here. Just me.” “I guess you’ll do, then,” He teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You could not help but blush at his stupidity. You advise him that you have to do some last minute cleaning and you’ll lock up so you can fill your stomach with a milkshake and burger next door. 

He’s patient, leaning against some displays and chatting to you about how the work day was. You get a good look at him when he’s inspecting some earrings you have on display. 

His lips. God, his lips.

Before he catches you staring, you act as you are mopping the same place you already did for the millionth time.

Once you clean up, you turn off the lights and lock the doors. You walk with Eddie right next door, occupying a booth right next to the vast windows of the diner. The older waitress jots down your orders and you both settle into easy conversation as the cook whips up your burger and Eddie’s cheesesteak. 

“So I heard you were dating Kenny Lopez at the beginning of the school year. From the way he was just… not at your side at that party, I’m assuming you two aren’t a thing anymore?” You wiggle your nose, rolling your eyes at the thought of your ex. “He was too immature. He was also a bit too religious for my liking. Said that if we had sex or anything I would have to repent. Which is insane because I found out later that he was cheating on with other girls and having sex with them.” “Woah, woah, woah-” You cut him off, giggling a bit as you sip your soda,“Yeah, I know.” He abruptly speaks up, “Did you?” “Did I what?” “Have sex?”

You cock your head to the side, letting out a quiet scoff. 

“No. We didn’t.” He lets out a random sigh of relief, “Good. I heard he gave Janet Huggins chlamydia.” “Jesus, Eds.” He throws his hands up in surrender, a cute smile plastered across his face,“What?! Just cause I’m a loser doesn’t mean I don’t hear the rumors about people.” You quirk your brow, playing with your straw. You were morbidly curious about your own status on the food chain, “Any about me?” “Some.” “Like what?” He stops, licking his lips painstakingly slow. He has to know what he’s doing to you, “You really want to know?” “Yes.”

Your food comes as soon as you approve to hear the dish on yourself. You grab a fry from your plate, obnoxiously smacking. 

“Well?” He matches your annoying chewing, “Some are just… statements about you-” “Like?” “You have great tits.” “Eddie!” “Hey- we all have eyes here.” “Okay, ew,” You chew another fry, “What else, though?” “Last year I heard you smoked pot with Kendra Traverse under the bleachers.” You shake your head immediately, “Never happened.” “Damn, I was hoping that one was true.” “What else?” He takes a bite of his meal, trying not to enjoy the sight of you eagerly asking about what people say about you. “I heard your a great kisser. Amongst… other things.” “This is all locker room talk. I want something juicy.” “You’re really setting yourself up for a joke there-” “Shut up.”

He giggles. Like really giggles. It’s a sound you vividly remember listening to growing up. You can sometimes still hear it in your dreams. 

“Other than what I’ve told you, I just heard whenever you were possibly dating someone.” “Ah,” You half smirk, wiping your mouth with a nearby napkin, “Well… those things never last that long.” “Why’s that?” “Because no guys around here are really worth a damn. I wasted a whole school year on a stupid guy when I could’ve just been having fun.” “No guys, huh?” You roll your eyes at his question, “Don’t say ‘well I’m worth a damn’. We already know that.” “So I am the exception?” “For now. Until you piss me off, somehow.” “So I have…” He looks at his watch jokingly, “T-minus 10 minutes to be an exception.”

God, he was so quick it gave you goosebumps. 

You two sit in that booth for two hours, laughing and carrying on. Eventually you tell him you have to go home before your parents assume you got kidnapped. He laughs and jokes that they will be reassured to know you were with your childhood best friend and not some stranger.

"You should come by and see them. They would love to hear how you’re doing.” He scoffs, shaking his head, “Your parents only put up with me because I was always around.” “My mom found you cute,” You reply, walking side by side with him to your car, “She used to tell me I should date you.” He grows silent for a moment and clears his throat, “Wise woman.”

You turn to him, folding your arms over your chest. There was a twinkle in his eye that you had seen a couple times in the last two days. Something hopeful. 

“Is that not what you’re doing right now? Taking me on a date?” You say, your heart practically beating out of your chest. 

He cocks his head at you curiously before connecting the dots. Your smile practically takes up your entire face, watching the cogs turn in his brain. You stop in front of your car, waiting for a response.

"So…” He looks over at your car, raising his eyebrows, “Is this the point in the date where I get to kiss you?” You feel dizzy just thinking about it. “Is that how you end your dates?”

He shakes his head, taking two steps towards you. His arms wrap around your waist, making you drop your arms over his biceps. 

“What dates? The only girl I’ve ever had eyes for was you.” You swallow, looking up at those big brown doe eyes, “Well, how would you like to end this date, with me?”

And he kisses you. He does it without a single ounce of hesitation. He’s soft but still eager, his perfectly plump lips slotting between yours. Your arms wrap around his neck and for once, in all the years you’ve tried forgetting about Eddie, you realize he’s all you’ll ever want and need.

np taglist: @fandom-princess-forevermore @robinbuckleywife @mediocredreams @amanitacowboy @awkward00noodle

divider by @/cafekitsune

[miirshroom]

It seems that we have opposing pet peeves, because I have a difficult time seeing it as anyone other than Vergil based on narrative parallels and the visual component of the episode. That was part of the reason I made my post - I hadn't seen anyone dig into the visual art and themes.

For the purposes of my original post, I think that there should be a distinction made between what was intended at the time of original anime release and what information was added later (and in what context). The main piece of evidence I see forwarded for why it cannot be Vergil is a line of text from a novel published a decade after the anime. Which I also find to be weak evidence, considering the brevity of the description and absolutism required to take this as definitive. Like imagine if events of Morris Island take place over one summer when Vergil is age 10/11. Then the descriptor of "did not hide where he came from or who" still applies to the majority and most relevant part of his life except for one event that's a tiny outlier in the grand scheme of things, so the novel would be streamlining and making a generalization.

A summary of expanded arguments for those other points:

1a) While DMC 3 era Vergil is the blue twin when held up next to Dante, it has never been his only associated clothing colour. For one, the amulets given to Dante and Vergil both have red stones, and for another he has a red element in his DMC 3 design with the liner of his coat being red. Very dark blue/almost black is persistent in his design, being the colour of his vest in DMC 3 and overcoat in DMC 5. The use of gold/yellow also phases in and out of his design in interesting ways, but that's a longer discussion not relevant now.

1b) Comparisons drawn with Nero. To reiterate, both the boy in the photo and Nero have the same colour scheme of dark blue/black jacket and red shirt. Morris Island being a port town attacked by demons is similar to Fortuna being a port town attacked by demons. Part of the theming for DMC 4 seems to be about showing a glimpse of what could have been for Vergil. Nero alone would have failed to stop the demons because he didn't have enough strength at the time, but he didn't need to do it alone because Dante was there to help get Nero out of the mess made of the legacy of Sparda. It has been told that Vergil never had that luxury and was hunted by Mundus - thus leading to his paranoia about staying in any one place or with any people for very long - but the Morris Island incident would offer the closest opportunity for a "show don't tell" moment.

2) Already gave my reasons about the box. The things I'd add is that Dante is smart enough to deduce the location of such a thing, and the point of digging it up would be to verify the deduction. It's something I've seen said jokingly in the fandom, but Dante does tend to use his brain a lot to solve those puzzles in the various demon towers. And it meshes with the theme of this episode being Dante's curiosity of who told Earnest about "Anthony the Devil Hunter" and why, as that's why he chose to go along and then stick around to see what Sid is scheming this time.

3) Regarding the plausibility of Vergil choosing the name "Anthony". Dante and Vergil shared a lot as kids, so it may have seemed a reasonable leap of logic by the writers that it was a name that had meaning to both of them. Journalist Antonio Redgrave appears to be a character mentioned in Bayonetta (2010), which both post dates the anime and is written by Kamiya who was no longer adding to the canon of Devil May Cry in an official capacity at that point in time, so take that for what it's worth. Devil May Cry 3 has a story that wrote the twins as dramatic foils approaching Shakespearean levels. It also wrote them as both being dweebs who knew each other well enough to say "Jackpot" in sync in DMC 3, after being apart for 10 years. Improbable and contrived parallels happen in this genre of supernatural fiction, such as two twins making the improbable choice to use the same false name. And the writers also probably assumed that it was sufficient to have Dante say at least 4 times that he isn't Anthony, culminating in a tense moment 2/3rd through the episode where Dante says directly and explicitly "Margaret, I'm not Anthony. When I was a little kid there were times I used to go by that name. But I'm not the Anthony you and Earnest are looking for".

Some additional points adding up to Dante not being the same Anthony: i) If he was Earnest's Anthony, the writers completely passed over a chance for him to drop the act around Morrison - who is presently a much closer friend than some guy from 20 years ago - and instead Dante asks for the details about what the hell Earnest was talking about and learns the history of Morris Island this way, ii) Dante also needs to ask for directions to the place where Earnest is planning to summon a demon - this shows an unfamiliarity with the lay of the land which is the opposite of what you would want to telegraph to the viewers if the goal is to imply that Dante is lying about being Earnest's old friend.

4) There's not a single thing that Dante does to show that he cares about Earnest on a personal level aside from being a human being who he will protect from demons and his own stupid decisions - it's all sarcasm and bored disinterest. But on the other hand Dante does have motive for letting Earnest lead him around and host him at his house because he has a hunch that it's the easiest way to gather information on the actual demon threat involved, and he is correct. So the point of the sad train scene would be introspection about how Vergil is dead and Dante will never get to ask him about what really happened at Morris Island back then. Or get to ask him about anything that led him to the point of opening a portal to Hell for more power at Temen-ni-gru. But re-iterate once again, Dante and Vergil have been positioned as very similar in some ways. It seems to me like the melancholy of the scene is amplified by Dante imagining that the yelling and cursing that Earnest threw at him in the hospital are things that he might have thought himself had he been present at the demon attack, and so he can imagine how the guilt might have been devastating to a young child like Vergil put in that position.

Also the hospital scene with Earnest is not the last scene in Morris Island - the last scene before Dante looking sadly out a window is a panning shot of the unburied box. I don't understand the logic chain of: 1) Get yelled at by guy at hospital who is still under the impression that you're his old friend (only now he has realized that he has an entirely justified reason to hate you), 2) Dig up box that was a secret with that friend, but leave it unopened so it's not like it was either to retrieve something or to ruin the contents as a petty spite thing. It reads more clearly to me as a case of "I'm leaving town and I'm never speaking to Earnest again, and if I guessed correctly about this hidden box it's probably the one thing that will convince me that it really was Vergil here back then and not some other kid". And like I've said, the colour language and typography points to Vergil.

The things that Dante puts into words are a fraction of the overall content of the episode, and feature in only one of the original points that I made, I believe. It interests me more to consider the visuals cues of a visual medium when doing an analysis of the meaning, especially in cases like this that are using intentionally ambiguous language.

Devil May Cry: The Animated Series (2007) - Dissecting Episode 8 "Once Upon a Time"

A.k.a. spending many words addressing what I feel is a much dismissed episode of the 2007 anime.

Ep 8 "Once Upon A Time" is a Vergil backstory episode. From what I've seen over the years, this apparently flies over the heads of even people familiar with all other works in Devil May Cry canon. But I think that this episode deserves re-evaluation, because it is really very consistent with how Vergil is portrayed both in DMC 3 and in his more recent re-appearance in DMC 5.

The premise of the episode is that a man named Earnest heard that his old friend Anthony had resurfaced running a business called Devil May Cry. He had fallen out of contact with Anthony 20 years ago following a fire that burned to the ground the port town called Morris Island where they lived - killing the majority of the population. The fire was claimed by survivors to be caused by a demon attack on the island. Dante denies meeting Earnest before. He goes along with Earnest to visit the town anyways because he wants to know who is putting Earnest up to this.

Consulting the various pieces of evidence.

1) Dante is not usually known for lying (except for withholding information), and yet he says repeatedly "I'm not the Anthony you are looking for". That's a pretty odd way to phrase his denial, but it makes sense when you realize why the show can't just outright say "that wasn't me, but it might have been my identical twin brother". A conceit of the show is that it never once acknowledges in words that Dante had a twin brother. The show is allergic to saying the name "Vergil" (not even once!), which made it surreal to watch as an introduction to the series in 2007 and to later learn "oh, he has a twin brother!....OH NO he has a dead twin brother!" Because of the way that in retrospect it's obvious that Vergil haunts the narrative in at least half of the episodes.

This is almost the exact same way that Vergil is handled in DMC 4, where he's very plot relevant despite his name never being spoken. The Yamato belonged to "Dante's brother" - that's the extent to which anyone acknowledges him in words. Because the writers have decided to address the question of "how do you make the viewers aware of the past escapades of the characters without wasting screen-time on exposition dumps" with the answer of: "Don't! :)"

Real people don't start off every new relationship by explaining their tragic backstory - so when characters like Patty and Nero are introduced they are surrogates for the fraction of the audience who did not play the previous games or read the books and are reacting to the mysterious figure of Dante from an outsider perspective.

2) This point is one of the weakest (because it only works in hindsight), but it should be said that as of DMC 5 and Visions of V it is known that the demon attack on Morris Island is entirely separate and unrelated to the demon attack on the Sparda mansion near Redgrave City. It is also heavily implied that Dante was constantly up in Vergil's business - making it unlikely that Vergil could keep a secret friend from Dante and also have that friend never find out about his twin brother.

Plus there is the timeline to consider. DMC 1 takes place 20 years after the attack on the Sparda mansion. Morris Island takes place 20 years before this episode of the anime. There is a gap of at least a few years between DMC 1 and the anime considering that there was enough time for Trish to partner with Dante, change the shop name, and then for Trish to leave and the shop name to change back. So even the timelines don't match up if these 20-year time spans are strictly correct rather than vague approximations of time.

3) Dante has a completely separate backstory about where he ended up after his family home burned down in a fire and he was separated from Vergil. Because of the shock and to protect himself he buried his real identity in amnesia for like 8-10 years and created an identity as Tony Redgrave. He became a regular human mercenary and unaware of demons until suddenly he was pulled back into it and forced to remember. This is covered in the DMC 1 novel. The DMC 1 novel has been more decisively folded into canon as of references to its events in DMC 5: Before the Nightmare. In contrast, Vergil's whereabouts during the same time period were a mystery. What would have been the point of giving Dante a new personal history set in a small port town when you can instead take the opportunity to fill in the blanks on the person whose past is unknown?

Basically, the writers take it for granted that there is a tacit understanding with the fans that they will be faithful in writing Dante's character to the extent that is possible. Thinking that the viewers understand that the 2007 anime is not an adaptation of any previous works and has no desire to re-tread those previous works. The version of Dante as he appears in DMC 3 and subsequently in the anime is written as the character he would be if he experienced the events laid out in the DMC 1 prequel novel. Anything that they've retconned is exclusively related to Vergil - Vergil was not abducted by Mundus as a child and Vergil did not experience the events of the DMC 1 novel (and is unaware of Gilver in general). So if those things did not happen - then what replaced them? The way that anime Ep 8 and DMC 4 are written imply that the writers already had ideas about the answers (it's only 3 years between DMC 3 in 2005 and DMC 4 in 2008), but outside of more prequels there is no graceful way to deliver information about a character who is canonically dead - everything about their thoughts and intentions is filtered through 2nd and 3rd hand unreliable sources.

Even so, Visions of V re-creates the singular kid Vergil scene that was shown in the DMC 3 manga. In that case the scene takes the form of a surreal nightmare that is forced on him by the demons that he is conversing with in the present. It's surreal in the sense of the symbolism of being naked and afraid and stabbed to a gravestone with your own name on it.

Whereas the Visions of V version positions itself as a more straightforwards narrative account of the event. Vergil chooses to acknowledge what he was really thinking and feeling that day as a step towards working past it:

4) Earnest and "Anthony" had a favourite teacher - Margaret - so they seem to have both had a scholarly inclination. The unique cutscene introducing the Vergil playable route in DMC 3:SE (and at multiple points in the DMC 3 manga) shows him browsing books in a library.

The plot of the episode is that Earnest has an ill-begotten plan to open a portal to Hell and summon a demon. Dante tries to talk him out of it and is unsuccessful. This is a smaller scale version of what Vergil did in DMC 3. The parallels - they are here.

5) The kid in the photo that Dante sees at Earnest's house is wearing a blue/black jacket and red shirt. Blue with red interior lining being the colours associated with Vergil at the time of DMC 3, but even more directly with Nero in DMC 4. Morris Island is a port town. Fortuna is a port town on an island. This anime was being written and produced during the same timeframe as DMC 4.

6) Earnest and "Anthony" buried a box of treasures as children and it was a secret between the two of them. The box that Dante digs up has a scratched out name on a field of blue. The first letter of the name is a cursive "V". How did Dante know where the box was? Dante and Vergil were twins and were still similar enough at age 10 or so that Dante could guess where Vergil would have hidden something. They were similar enough that they both chose the same name of Anthony/Tony when they tried to obscure their identity. The identity confusion is a feature, not a bug - it's part of the tragic irony. It's toying with the same question as DMC 5: if their positions were switched, would their fates be different?

Dante does not care about Earnest. At all. At least, beyond the point that he's a person about to do something foolish that could get himself and a lot of other people killed. Dante is doing the bare minimum to humor this man - so if not because of some gesture related to their "friendship", why even dig up the box? For the same reason that he went to visit the town: curiosity. He was looking for proof of Vergil's existence in the world before that one time he showed up when they were 18 talking about a lunatic plan to raise a demon tower and open the connection between human and demon worlds (DMC 3 manga), and then at age 19 actually went through with that plan while revealing that the point of it all was to gain more power (DMC 3), followed shortly by throwing himself into Hell while severely injured at the end of DMC 3. What would motivate a person to do these things?

7) This port town being burned down in a fire caused by a demon attack explains a lot about the psychology of Vergil, in ways that would not be explicitly confirmed until DMC 5 and Visions of V. He's motivated by his fear. He did not hide from Mundus as successfully as Dante, and even when he tried to reinvent himself as a different person the demons caught up with him. Dante lived through one tragic fire and loss of home and safety and he knows how devastating it is - but he repressed the memory and moved on from it in his own uniquely dysfunctional way. Vergil experienced at least this 2nd attack, which begs the question of how many more times did it happen that Dante is unaware of? How badly would it damage a person to live in fear of being constantly hunted and unable to stay in any place for very long or form lasting attachments to other people? Dante can relate to this a bit given his own personal tragedies, although unlike Vergil he has a handful of people like Lady and Trish to keep him grounded though the years.

But for Vergil it can be extrapolated that he was forced to be alone after any attempt to get close to normal people ended in further tragedy, and it seems like the demons won't stop hunting him until either he is dead or the mastermind sending the demons to hunt him is dead. This evolves into an obsession with power, detachment from human social connection, and willingness to make the decision that a city worth of humans is acceptable collateral damage so long as it gets him that power and opportunity to end Mundus.

If there is a single detail that calls in to doubt that Ep 8 is about actual Vergil post-separation from Dante, it is that "Anthony and his mother" lived in the village. On the other hand, the inclusion of this detail seems as much designed to baffle Dante as it does the viewer. This could be a hook for Dante that has him doubting Earnest's story and/or his own memory because he was certain that their mother died at the same time that Dante and Vergil were separated. However, although there are photographic records of "Anthony" in the town there don't seem to be any of this "mother", and her name is never given.

So if indeed "Anthony" was Vergil, then this mother figure is a continuing mystery. The possibility is that Vergil was accompanied by a woman who was a mentor to him in some way, similar to Dante with Nell Goldstein. Could have been a magical mentor - how did he learn to fling about spectral swords anyways? Impossible to say for certain (i.e. more flexible for future use as a plot point), but if Patty and Morrison from the anime are canon then this suggests that other things set up in the 2007 anime could get a callback if ever there was a DMC6.

As for the purpose of this episode in the context of the anime - it would have been deliberately designed as an attack on Dante by Sid - the mischief maker of the series who is advancing a background demon resurrection plot. One of the times that Dante confronts him Sid says "In the end you were drawn here by the smell of a devil weren't you?" before backflipping off the balcony as the scene lights up with blue lightning.

What is it that Vergil says in the Mission 13 fight in DMC 3 the first time he uses his devil trigger: "You will not forget this devil's power".

This whole episode is a twist of the knife to deliver a reminder that Dante and Vergil weren't so different once, that kid Vergil probably missed their mother as much or more than Dante because he didn't have the luxury of willing himself into amnesia, and that while Dante managed to make it to adulthood before demons found their way back into his life Vergil was not so lucky. Understanding some of the reasons that drove Vergil to obsessively seeking power only makes it worse that Dante was now twice responsible for unknowingly playing into Mundus plans by severely injuring Vergil in a fight to the death in DMC 3, and then by killing him instead of saving him in DMC 1.

Bonus: Even the alcohol gets in on the theme. Dante in his own home office enjoys a "Budweiner" beer with his buddy Morrison as he gets the details about Morris Island. The end credits show him with a glass of "Back Janiels" liquor - these are his usual tastes. When he visits Earnest's house it is just after seeing that photograph of (presumably) kid Vergil that he is offered a glass of red wine.

This is some classic gothic imagery where red wine evokes the look of blood. The last time that Dante and Vergil fought (intentionally - not counting when Vergil was under the control of Mundus) it was over what it means that they have the blood of Sparda. And blood is present in the lyrics of the lesser demon battle music that plays through Missions 2-13 right up to the scene where Vergil is trying to open the gate.

... Taste the blood, Taste your fate, Swallow your pride, With your hate, ... Knee's in the blood with your crying pleas, Wade in your sorrow, bathe in your fear, Clear the mind of the righteousness suffered, Witness the moment of your failure's prosper!

[fideidefenswhore]

@boleynism replied to your post:

It's a great summary, although I'm not sure 'bullying' is the best word choice (...hectoring?); unless, of course we're taking Chapuys at 100% face value (which...off the dome, incorrect report of the name of Anne's first child, incorrect report that Mary was going to be sent to serve Anne as maid in waiting, report that there were no bonfires celebrating Elizabeth's christening was contradicted by two other sources...only the first of which he ever admitted the error, which he would never have gotten away with doing otherwise, as she was a significant child, the second of which he still claimed was true but that Anne had changed her mind and decided to send her to Elizabeth's household instead). And it's the reality of power, really...gaining power, securing power, maintaining power (or, as Thomas has argued here, safety) can be very ugly. These were not Disney princesses we're talking about. But there's a certain Janus face to all this, also: in all likelihood, Anne completely believed that everything she did was justified, because she wanted to use that power for good ("pardon me from your hearts [...] that I have not done all the good that was in my power to do.”  ), for causes she believed in, that's all tied up in that fierce maternal instinct (""A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.") as well.

[nobodysomeday]

Hey another newbie here! What about Howard? I mean, is he married or something? Aren’t his kids all from different moms? I’m pretty confused with his family life. I do know that he has some insane beliefs about certain topics and whew! Crazy. But yeah, i’m a bit confused with some stuff, help? 🫣

LOL HI

Yeah Howard's a doozy. I like him? The band wouldn't be the same without him? But he sure does make it hard. And I express that with faith that he's just cringe and dumb and not something more nefarious. That's the vibe I get but who knows he could cross a line any day lmao. But I am also somewhat desensitised to his bullshit so even then I might let him get away with it /j

Anyway, Howard is married and has been since 2015. Together they have two boys. His other children are from previous relationships and they're older, two girls in their 20s now. But that's 4 kids and 3 baby mamas all together.

I don't like to judge him solely on that information because it's not bad necessarily, just... Alternative :) But it was pretty dicey. He was an absent father (which he's owned up to) and there was a history of cheating in the 2000s 🙃

I also don't particularly like how he talks about his youngest kids either, but him complaining about being a new dad in his 50s is not indicative of how he actually is as a parent so I try not to judge him for that either.

[socialitesleuth]

Penelope isn’t sure what she’s witnessing at first. Of all the plans John might have come up with, that certainly wasn’t anywhere near the top of her list of assumptions. All she can see as he exits the Rolls is the soles of his boots being lifted out of view. The ominous thuds of his feet on the roof follow and Penelope is beginning to think that driving out into the middle of the storm without a solid plan had been a bad idea from the start.

The winds continue to batter the vehicle and Penelope is reminded that her focus should be on keeping control of the car and not on whatever the hell John is currently doing. She can trust him to complete whatever wild task he’s trying to accomplish…

Or so she’d thought.

All hope in that trust is dashed the moment she hears John’s frantic yells come through the comms. Panic instantly sets in, though Penelope is an expert at appearing as cool as a cucumber. Her brows furrow, her fingers tighten on the steering wheel, but her countenance remains composed. No-one would suspect the anxiety, the fear for her friend.

“John?” She replies, a little dumbfoundedly. It would have helped if she could see what was happening on the roof. “John, what’s going on?”

But she doesn’t have to wait for a reply from him in order to come up with a reasonably solid conclusion.

Above her, between the whistling howls of the gales, Penelope can no longer hear the thuds from John’s boots. Nor can she hear the annoying burrof the drone.

Chancing it, Penelope momentarily allows her concentration to shift from keeping the car level to the wing mirror on her right. With a quick click she has the mirror flipping upwards, towards the sky, where she sees, much to her horror, John being carried away.

He isn’t too far, perhaps only a couple of inches, but it’s still a worrying sight and Penelope doesn’t want to wait around to find out if John’s fighting a losing battle.

“Hold on!”

FAB 1’s engines roar against the wind as Penelope revs the accelerator, willing the car to fly just a little bit higher. She then flicks on the auto-pilot. It wouldn’t do much good for the long term but it buys her a second to jump into the back of the vehicle. Without her trusted guidance, FAB 1 is a little rockier, but Penelope manages to reach the compartment under the back seats relatively unscathed. A bruise might bloom on her forehead later, just above her temple, from where her head hit the handle of the back door, but it’s an irrelevant worry for the moment.

She pulls out a compact survival kit from beneath the seats. It’s just the basics that one would need if they found themselves in a tricky situation. This current predicament certainly fit the criteria. Amongst the items are basic pieces of a first aid kits, a couple of life preserver vests, and a host of other pieces of equipment, but Penelope isn’t interested in any of that. Instead she retrieves a coil of rope.

She wastes no time in returning to her position in the driving seat, switching off the auto-pilot in favour of her own experienced hands. She’d only been gone a few seconds but it had cost them. Instead of flying upwards, FAB 1 has descended in her absence, leaving John hanging on to that berserk drone as if his life depended on it, which it very much did.

The engine roars once again. With the drone further away, the winds weren’t as volatile and FAB 1 only begins to find resistance again as it draws closer. Penelope chooses to ignore the groans from the Rolls, and makes sure the vehicle gains altitude regardless.

She couldn’t leave John hanging!

One end of the rope has a smart grapple hook attached; the other has a modified, very strong carabiner. Penelope secures the grapple hook end to the car door. It latches on automatically, securing itself tightly to the vehicle’s frame.

FAB 1 bobs in the air as Penelope pushes the car further upwards. The timing was crucial. They only have one shot. She only has one shot. She has to make her throw count. As the vehicle lurches upwards, almost level with the drone and with John, Penelope chucks the other end of the rope towards him.

“John, catch!”

Garden Party Gale [RP]

socialitesleuth:

With an ancestral home as old as the Creighton-Ward heritage, it is probably common to assume that most people associated with the family are part of the fixtures. Penelope certainly wouldn’t have been where she was today had it not been for her ever faithful manservant. Parker was, without a shadow of a doubt, her mainstay. Briefly, her mind wanders to her butler-cum-chauffeur. Penelope isn’t one to waver in her opinions or decisions, but when she does find herself questioning her actions, it is almost always when she’s had to leave someone behind. Parker was undoubtedly safer back at the Creighton-Ward Manor, yet her fleeting worry is nonetheless troublesome. Any lingering doubt is soon replaced with a sense of urgency at John’s questioning. With a few buttons clicked, her wings outstretch and her selected tires ignite. FAB1 is airborne… if one could consider a couple of feet off the ground to be called as such. Being in the air, no matter how little, causes Penelope to lose control of the vehicle. The high winds catch on the extended wings, pushing and tugging the pink Rolls backwards and forwards, up and down.  Penelope’s brows furrow. Her clutches onto the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as she fights back against the storm’s new form of attack. “Hold on…” She doesn’t dare even cast a glance towards John, her eyes never leaving the instrumentation on the dash in front of her that is flashing warning lights left, right and centre. A few more buttons, a switch here and a switch there — more power. The equivalent of revving the engine a fair few times, Penelope can feel the extra kick as FAB1 lifts higher off the ground. But higher means less control. The closer they get to the apex, the worse the storm seems to become. Penelope, now a little more in-tune with the way the winds batter the Rolls, is able to keep the turbulence to a minimum. ‘A minimum’ is still like a rollercoaster, however she’s able to lift FAB1 a little higher. It’s slow and it’s tough, but Penelope is able to inch them closer to the drone. She pushes FAB1 to her limit — Parker will probably need to give the car a damn good service tomorrow — as the engines scream at her. A little more… A little more… She isn’t satisfied until they’re as close as they can feasibly get. “John,” Penelope begins, teeth gritted as she continues to battle the gales, “I hate to rush this wonderful country drive, but if you were planning on doing something, now might be your only window of opportunity.”

"Great flying Pen!" John yells over the noise of the storm, already unclipping his seat-belt and rolling down the window. "Hold her steady!"

John's calculated a thousand ways this could go, and the plan that makes the most sense, the plan he's settled on... might just fall into that perfect blend of Tracy insanity that the five of them had inherited from their Father. John's own personal brand rears it's head a lot less often than his brothers does... but it sure is there.

Still, it's entirely unexpected when the spaceman decides to climb up out of FAB1's window, and onto her roof.

The whole plan hinges on him being able to connect Eos' little mobile unit to the machine, in order to shut it down. It only occurs to him that this plan is genuinely ridiculous as he finds himself balancing on top of FAB1 in a category ten gale with an ethernet cable clamped between his teeth.

The drone is a quick, black thing - all buzzing rotary blades and dark angled panelling. It seems to look at him with almost surprise as John reaches up to grab it, and it does not react well to being grabbed.

"Penny!" John shouts into his comm, as his idiot feet are almost lifted from FAB1's perfectly shiny roof, "Penelope!?!"

[victorluvsalice]

Tis Fall Tuesday in the Chill Valicer Save as of this update, and as usual, it's a busy one! So let's dive right into it, shall we --

-->Okay, first of all, it occurred to me that you guys probably didn't get a great look at some of the pictures the gang took on their vacation when I took the initial screenshots of the various photo collages I had made -- so here's a close-up of the four in Smiler's party barn, which I think show off some of the best poses I put the trio in. :p What, I like showing off their photographs!

-->All right, all right, we'll get into the actual game now -- I started the morning after Spookfest, with Alice having just finished her brief rampage and Victor having gotten up early because, well, their bed is amazing. I had Victor take a moment to remove Shadow's Spookfest costume, then left the dog bopping around to the tunes on the phonograph while Victor went to go challenge Smiler to a game of chest while Alice finished up her latest surreal painting in the background. Smiler ended up winning, but Victor ended up getting to Logic skill 4 during the game, so I'd say they both won. :)

-->Guidry also put in an appearance -- after checking in on Shadow (settling down for a nap on the couch), he wandered into the studio room to start bothering Alice as she tried to finish her painting. She indulged him a little at first...but then I had her change back into her human form right after finishing up her painting, and of course Guidry (despite being a GHOST PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR) got terrified and decided this was the worst thing ever. *sigh* I really think werewolves turning back to HUMANS shouldn't be scary to onlookers, or at least not as scary as the other way around. On the plus side, Alice getting a negative sentiment claiming that she was a People Person reminded me that, "oh yeah, the game gave her that lifestyle again," and allowed me to grab the Lifestyle-Go-Poof potion and get rid of it. Really gotta track down that mod that makes it so it takes a lot more to become a People Person...

-->Anyway -- Alice was a bit tired, so after hitting the bathroom and taking a short detour to take Kelly's taco costume off, she hit the sack while Victor and Smiler did some more upgrades to the washer and dryer (Smiler giving the washer a tungsten drum so it would break less often, Victor giving the dryer a speed cycle so it would dry clothes faster). Smiler finished first and headed out into the greenhouse to unleash Bugs and Elmer upon it and grab all their herbalism stuff. And doesn't the greenhouse look good? For once everything was in bloom and nothing was being affected by that stupid "plants revert to dirt piles occasionally" bug! We love to see it.

-->We also love to see Victor's magic being helpful around the farm -- when I sent him out to help tend and harvest the rest of the crop once his upgrade was done, I noticed that the cow shed was stinking a bit. Normally this would prompt me to send a Sim in there to clean it, but this time I decided to check if Victor could just Scruberoo it -- and he could! So I had him do that. :D Magic -- it makes farm chores easier! Though it didn't get Victor out of weeding his oversized crops (Floralorial doesn't work on those -- and even if it DID, that's a per-plant thing, so it's a bit of a pain on a greenhouse as big as this one) or Smiler out of feeding the chickens, but that's okay. Some stuff is better done "by hand," as it were. :p

[zevrra]

𝐢. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

synop: you and vik get caught “messing around” in the lab by jayce; who surprisingly wants to join in on the fun.

wc: 1.8k

includes: straight smut, p w/o p, fem!reader, jayce x reader x viktor, slight vöyeurism, oral (m receiving), slight dirty talk, threesome, bottom!viktor

extra: part 2 is here! reblogs are appreciated <3

“don’t worry,” you whisper, fingers twirling along a red tie before smoothing down the front of viktor’s vest. “i sent jayce out on an errand run and he won’t be back for a little bit. just enjoy this v.” you add with a hum.

viktor looks up through his pretty lashes at you. he leans back against his desk, practically sits on top of it to keep weight off of his leg, as you two stand inside of the lab. he had been working far too hard recently and the only way you could keep him distracted long enough not to think about anything involving his work was to pleasure him. it was the same way trying to get him to sleep every once and awhile, when he would sneak into your room. you had never suggested doing it in the lab though…and the thought thrilled you just as much as it thrilled him; even if he thought it was a terrible idea.

“w-we shouldn’t. not here in the lab and what if—” viktor mumbles but his words end in a soft gasp as your fingers begin to untuck his shirt from his pants.

“viktor,” you chirp as you fall to your knees in front of him, unbuttoning the front of his pants and pulling them down ever so slightly. “you need to take a break. be a good boy and just relax.”

your fingers are just grabbing the hem of his underwear when the door to the lab is being thrown open and jayce’s large figure enters the room. “hey, i was looking for this thing you asked for but i—“ jayce had begun to speak, his eyes pointed down as he entered the room, before he finally looked up and caught the two of his friends in the act.

you freeze in your spot, eyes widening as you stare at jayce from the floor. a scarlet red blush is spreading across your face, you can feel the heat on your cheeks in an instant and you’re sure you match not only jayce’s shocked face but viktor’s as well; and you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him. you probably stay like that for a little longer than you should’ve until jayce clears his throat and you and viktor alike scramble from each other.

“we!” you start as you stand up straight and as quick as you possibly can. “wait it’s not what it looks like! we were uh just uhm—“ you ramble before looking at viktor to help dig both of you out of this hole. but he’s busied himself with trying to zip his pants back up, making it far more obvious if it hadn’t been already. you sigh, turning your face off to the side to stare at a small spot on the floor, unable to look jayce in the eye.

“do…you do this often?” jayce’s voice cuts through the built up silence in the room like a knife.

you shake your head quickly but viktor speaks up for you instead. “never in the lab.” he mutters.

“it’s unprofessional, we get it, let’s just drop it and forget this—“ you begin to add but the sound of the door closing with a lock interrupts your rambling. when you finally bring your gaze to jayce, his eyes are soft but clear in their intentions. and it was his turn to no longer be able to look at the two of you.

“can i…watch?” he whispers under his breath.

and with three little words, everything changes between all three of you.

now, jayce leans against the lab’s desk as viktor leans back against his chest. jay’s strong hands fully support viktor as you’ve returned to your spot in front of him. you had never in your life thought jayce might have been interested in whatever you and viktor had going on. maybe you just assumed he already had a lover and never brought it up again. but now his hazel eyes stare down at you, just as viktor’s amber eyes also watch you, both with a hunger to their eye. it almost made you nervous, being watched, but your fingers once again hook around viktor’s underwear and pull down, ignoring the jitters that hum under your skin.

your hand wraps around vik’s semi hard cock and you give it a soft tug, rubbing right up the shaft until the tip. there was a new feeling in the air around all 3 of you. breaths being held, eyes watching ever so closely, the slight tremble to your hand. it had been different when it was just the two of you enjoying midnight meetings but now with jayce there too…it felt far more scandalous and naughty.

“tell me what it feels like.” jayce whispers, purposely placing his chin into the crook of viktor’s neck, as his hands slowly run up along vik’s chest.

your own hand continues to move against viktor’s shaft, stroking him slowly up and down, moving to press your lips against his head.

“mmph, her fingers are a little cold,” viktor replies with a low groan. his chest rising and falling in quicker succession as he begins to get turned on. “but it feels good.” he adds. and his honesty makes you smile a little.

you move your hand faster in return to his praise. trailing your fingers along his head, pressing your thumb into the slit of his cöck, where he’s growing sensitive and causing him to gasp softly. you take the moment to lean forward and capture the head of his cock inside of your mouth. drinking in the sight of viktor’s eyes fluttering, his fingers tightening onto whatever he can grasp, as your mouth wraps around him.

“keep going viktor.” jayce instructs as you watch him place hot, heavy kisses against vik’s throat. one of his hands groping his thin chest and waist.

“w-warm! it’s so warm and wet,” vik breaks. he’s fully hard now as you suck on his head, making him whimper at the feeling. “feels—ah—really good.” he adds with a groan as his eyes return to watching you.

you can feel his thighs tighten as you swallow more of his cöck, continuing to use your hand to stroke up to your lips. you watch every expression that crosses viktor’s face along with jayce’s fingers that slowly begin to take off his vest. strips him of his vest and then works on unbuttoning his brown shirt underneath.

jayce keeps laying hot kisses along the back of his neck and on his throat, slumped over and threatening to swallow all of viktor’s thin frame.

the sight makes you somewhat giddy and excited to see what jayce does. but it never distracts you from making viktor feel good as well. sucking a little harder, spit bubbling up at the sides of your lips as you sink further down onto his lengthy shaft. your eyes are almost falling close to help you focus as you swallow more and more of him, but jayce’s voice catches your attention once again.

“she looks so pretty like that, doesn’t she, vik? makin’ you feel so good.” he whispers against just as pretty, pale skin. his words cause vik to stutter, hips lifting up and forcing you to swallow the rest of him. and you do so with ease.

you truly wouldn’t have guessed jayce was so good at dirty talk but you welcomed any surprises at this point. viktor simply whines in response, head hanging low, gaze still on you as you continue your routine of sucking him off.

jayce stands to his full height then, hanging over viktor just enough so he could turn his face and capture his lips. viktor’s eyes widen in response but he does nothing to stop jayce; no, instead he’s melting into the kiss. you watch with eager curiosity as their tongues clash together, jayce easily winning in the battle of dominance, as one big hand of his moves up to gently caress viktor’s throat.

fuck, was it hot watching them. you can feel your pussy throbbing at the sight just as you can feel yourself growing wet against your panties. you squeeze your thighs together, slipping a hand down below to press your fingers into your core. the best you can through the pants you wear for the moment but the pressure is enough to make you groan. you move your lips faster along viktor’s shaft, sucking harsher and sloppier to bring him closer to his end.

the change of pace and jayce’s tongue surely has viktor coming undone quicker than usual. for he breaks the kiss with a harsh whine. “i’m close!” vik gasps, tossing his head back onto jayce’s shoulder.

jayce presses a quick kiss against his jaw before his hazel eyes return to watch you suck viktor off. his eyes are hazy and full of lust as he fixes his intense stare on what you do; which makes you shiver with newfound pleasure under his sight. his strong gaze makes you press your fingers into your pussy once again, seeking any form of satisfaction you could get for the moment.

“look viktor,” jayce instructs as his hand smooths over viktor’s lower abdomen. “she’s touching herself.”

viktor’s breath hitches in his throat but he moves his own lust filled gaze down to stare at you. with both of them returning to stare at you, you palm yourself harder through your pants. moving your hips in sync to every bob of your head, needy and desperate as things evolve, all the while you moan around vik’s cock.

it’s all too much for viktor as his hips lift and he thrusts wildly into your mouth. “going to—!” he cries softly, body tightening, throwing his full weight back against jayce.

but jayce is quicker. one hand grabs your hair and pulls you off of vik’s twitching cock before he takes his hand and wraps it around where your mouth had just left. “stick out your tongue. i wanna see the mess he makes all over your face.” he grunts, pumping his fist quickly along vik’s entire shaft. his hand is much bigger than yours and it wraps entirely around viktor with ease, and it makes vik lose all control he might’ve pretended to have.

but you do as your told and swiftly stick your tongue out to catch whatever you can. all it takes is viktor staring at your tongue and jayce’s hand jerking him off to finish his orgasm. viktor forces himself to watch as he comes, fingers grasping and gripping onto anything he can that’s near him as he tumbles over the edge with a sharp cry.

your name, along with jayce’s name, leaves viktor’s lips in a pathetic whimper as he comes. can feel the sticky substance coat your tongue, cheek, and chin with each rope jayce rubs out of him. all the while viktor and jayce watch as he makes a mess across your lips and face, never once looking anywhere else.

not until vik is completely spent, limp against jayce who holds him up effortlessly. the only noise now in the room is the shared panting between all three of you. you lick your lips, trying to clean yourself up just a little, before it was your turn to break the silence.

“let’s keep going.”

[miedei]

nonexistent rizz

the team is shocked to see that… early seasons!spencer pulls?? and he has pulled???? (aka, the team discovers that early seasons!spence has a girlfriend)

a/n: first cm fic!!! super indulgent, deffo way longer than it had to be but I don’t care, I love love love the dynamic of the s1/s2 team and I NEEDED to write it (look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)

cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), completely inaccurate early 2000s technology i think, cuties being cute, not edited in any way

wc: 2k

part two | part three | mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

“‘O Keefe’s! My wonderful, wonderful sweethearts, we are going out!” The moment the team steps out of the elevator, Penelope is bombarding them, hands moving wildly as words seem to tumble out of her mouth. “And yes, Hotch, I am sure we have no cases lined up yet, and yes, I’m sure JJ can corroborate that the moment she gets to her office and no, you may not stay behind, tonight is compulsory. That stands for you too, Gideon!”

Hotch hasn’t even opened his mouth, shaking his head in defeat as he takes in Garcia’s determined face. Under the watchful eyes of the team, his shoulders slump, a tired hand scrubbing down his face. “Fine. We all have to finish our reports, but if we’re all done in half an hour, we can go. Gideon?” He turns his face, hoping for Gideon to find a way to bunk off, but there’s a glint of amusement in the older man’s eye. “Sounds like there’s no getting out of it.” With that, he walks off, to his office. 

Penelope whoops excitedly, “Okay! That means we’re all going! That’s the first time since Gideon came back,” but her face sets slightly when she meets Spencer’s eye. “No. No, Baby Genius, you will not do this to me,”

“Garcia, I have pl-” “No! You are coming out with us, and we’re going to have a great time, and whatever Russian indie film you were going to watch will still be there for you tomorrow. Okay? No more complaining, baby, you know I won’t listen.” With a pat on his shoulder, she flounces off. Defeated, he doesn’t move from the elevator area, shrugging helplessly when Elle, JJ and Morgan brush past him to the bullpen. 

With a sigh, he takes out his phone, pressing his newly-programmed speed dial and bringing the phone to his ear. From Derek’s vantage point in the bullpen, he can see Spencer, pacing back and forth in front of the elevator doors, and he can see the moment whoever is on the other side picks up. The younger man’s face lights up, like when he’s on the receiving end of a rare Hotch smile out in the field, but more spirited, buoyant. Only snippets of the conversation float in through the slightly-ajar glass doors, but they’re enough to give him pause, and still his fingers above his keyboard.

“...Garcia’s got this plan for us all, and…”

“Yes, I know, I do like going out with them, but that’s not what I wanted to do…”

“...I took the metro tonight, so I think I’ll just… Really? You want to?”

At that point, Spencer turns, his voice muffling, and keeping Derek from his vested interest in his conversation. But what little he heard is more than enough to pique his interest. He flicks a pencil onto Elle’s desk. “Greenaway. You know if pretty boy’s mom is in town or something?” Elle looks up from her monitor, head tilting, “Not that I know of. Besides, doesn’t she not like flying? I don’t think he’d have her come here. Why do you ask?”

Derek doesn’t reply, simply gesturing to the glass doors, where Spencer is walking inside, his mouth twitching to conceal his smile. His steps are measured, like he’s trying to feign calm. He settles at his desk, hunching his back in a way that can’t be comfortable, typing rapidly as his knee jiggles up and down. Elle turns back to Derek, eyes wide with wonder. 

“That is not how you look getting off the phone with your mother.”

The incident is quickly forgotten, however, when the BAU team are crammed into a booth in the back of the low-lit bar. Penelope has roped Hotch into helping her bring drinks back from the bar, and the rest are speaking a little too loudly, arms flinging and bumping into the empty glasses littering the table. 

All except for Gideon, who, despite having had three glasses of whiskey, is still just as calm and observant as he is fully sober. It is this that causes him to zero in on Spencer, sitting across from him, sandwiched between Morgan and the newly-returned Garcia. 

There’s a pink flush across his high cheekbones, and he’s incredibly giggly, all things that are completely expected for him, a few drinks in. However, what the experienced profiler picks up on, are his darting eyes. Spencer can often be found staring into the middle distance, or, since Gideon taught him the importance of building rapport with victims and officers alike, trained steadily on the space between someone’s eyebrows, but this time it’s different.

His eyes flick to whoever’s talking, feigning interest, but every few seconds, it turns back down to his lap, where something is clutched in the hand he keeps under the table. If it were Hotch, Gideon would know with absolute certainty that he was watching his phone, waiting for a text from Haley.

But this is Spencer. The youngest person he knows. The youngest person he knows whose technological knowledge is somehow worse than Gideon’s own. What on earth would have Spencer acting- 

Oh. Gideon nearly gasps at Spencer’s movements. On his fifteenth peek down at his lap, Spencer stiffens, then draws his hand up from his lap to get closer to his face. It is his phone, and Spencer Reid has somehow learned to text as quickly as Morgan does. His thumbs fly over the buttons on his phone, and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads on his face.

Gideon’s eyes furrow, and he can’t hold back from nudging Hotch’s shoulder, pointing in Spencer’s direction. Hotch pulls himself away from his conversation with JJ, and Gideon can see his expression morph from mild interest, to confusion, to complete bewilderment. After a beat, his face turns to meet Gideon’s and his normally stoic demeanor is shaken, eyes wide. 

Spencer, however, doesn’t even notice his mentors’ faces, still tapping away at his phone and craning his neck to look around the bar. 

It’s a while later, when JJ has pulled the team (minus Hotch and Gideon) onto the dance floor, a few drinks past tipsy at this point. She’s laughing out loud, holding Elle’s hand and twirling her under her arm. Penelope and Derek are mock-waltzing, bursting into laughter every few steps, and Spencer… 

JJ pauses for a moment, before Elle pulls her into moving again. Her head whips around, trying to find Spencer, before giving up. He must be back at the table with Hotch and Gideon, he was never very comfortable dancing anyway. 

The four on the dance floor quickly devolve into a mess, swapping partners until they’re all dizzy and laughing. JJ and Penelope are shimmying back and forth together, when Penelope gasps a little, tapping JJ’s arm without ceasing her movements. “Jayj! Look, see that girl at the bar?” She gestures subtly at a younger woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a purple wrap top that has JJ sighing wistfully. 

“Pen, I think I’ve seen my soulmate. Would it be weird for me to crawl over there and beg her for her shirt?” Penelope giggles, gripping JJ’s forearms so they can sway to the music dramatically. “Just a little, my sweet. How about we go ask her where it’s from, though? I think that would be a little more…” She goes uncharacteristically silent, and it has JJ twisting to see what shut her up. However, Penelope tightens her grip on her arms, keeping her from moving. 

“JJ. My love, my heart. You’ll always be honest with me, won’t you?” Now she’s worried. JJ nods quickly, deciding to just focus on Penelope. “Yeah, Garcia, of course. What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m seeing things, and you are one of the most qualified people in the world to tell me if I’m going crazy. I’m going to turn us around, and you’re going to look at the woman in that gorgeous top, and you are going to either scream, or send me off to Hotch for a psychological evaluation.” Her tone is serious, hushed, and JJ nods solemnly. 

The intricate plan is conducted, and JJ is now facing the bar, her eyes searching for the girl, when she stiffens, sucking in a breath. “Yes! I’m not crazy, you see it right? What is going on!” Penelope smacks her arm repeatedly, but JJ can’t tear her eyes away from it. It being something she couldn’t possibly have prepared herself for, not in her wildest imaginations.

The girl is sitting on a barstool, sipping at a cocktail, and chatting to… Spencer. Spencer, the BAU’s Spencer, child-prodigy-lovable-dork-awkward-mess Spencer Reid, is stood in between her legs, smiling down at Mystery Girl without a hint of fear. It’s devastatingly sweet, his eyes soft in a way she’s never seen before, as he nods along with whatever she’s saying. Penelope jolts her out of her trance with a tap to the arm, JJ whispering, “He’s so… carefree.” 

That’s the only way to describe it. He’s looking down at her, eyes locked onto hers, and he’s still. His hands aren’t tapping, his leg isn’t shaking. He’s just looking at her. 

JJ can feel Morgan and Elle huddle near her, questioning Penelope about what they’re looking at, before shutting up as they see it. She hears them take twin gasps, and huddle even closer. They stand in silence, surely a hindrance to the people dancing, but they can’t tear themselves away. 

It’s only when Spencer shatters their worlds once more that they finally find themselves able to move. Four pairs of eyes follow him, as he leans even further towards Mystery Girl, and they all bulge at once when he raises a hand, carding his fingers through her hair. Penelope whispers, “oh my god”, Elle grips JJ’s arm in a vice grip, and Derek makes an unseemly noise, before gripping their arms, tugging them back to the booth. 

They collapse in the seats, faces pale as they look at each other, next to a very confused Gideon and Hotch. 

“What? What is it?” Hotch questions them, brow furrowed deeply. None of them speak, however. Only Elle lifts a weak hand to point. She directs their attention to the sight at the bar, and they all turn back to it, gasping once again. They’re… “kissing,” Derek breathes, shocked. Hotch and Gideon stiffen, but still crane their heads until their eyes fall on what has rendered their highly trained team speechless. And their reactions are just as silent.

Mystery Girl has stood up, her arms around Spencer’s neck, and he’s leaned down to meet her lips, hands braced on her hips. It’s honestly not that scandalous, a lazy, casual kiss that they part from with twin smiles, but the FBI agents can’t handle it. They don’t say a word, straining their ears to hear whatever she is saying as he holds her hand (Penelope lets out a squeak at that), and walks with her towards the door, not even noticing that his coworkers have returned to the booth. Her voice is low, but Hotch manages to pick up a few of the words. 

“...go home and watch that movie I was telling you about? Metropolis, I think you’ll really…” And they’re off. Spencer Reid has left a bar, holding hands with a girl (that he’s apparently spoken to multiple times? Who refers to a place as home for both of them?), acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

The group sits in silence, unable to muster a comment, when Penelope’s phone buzzes. She checks it, and silently turns the screen over so they can all read it. 

BOY GENIUS: Hey Garcia. I wasn’t feeling well so I decided to go home. See you Monday :-)

“What?”

[iridescentoracle]

#fair!!#i should really try to adjust my height headcanons #i decline to adjust my attractiveness headcanons bc fundamentally i don't think it's the straight-up beauty of his face that gets you #but rather the passion of his spirit and the /effort/ he'll put into looking beautiful #this guy looked at his mothername and was like 'alright i'll lean in' and then led noldorin fashion while the trees shone #he gave that up pretty much utterly after angband #but then he was so very hot in kinslayer badboy/competent military commander way #that like...damn (via tanoraqui)

Height:

Thingol in the Silmarillion: "for fair and noble as he had been, now he appeared as it were a lord of the Maiar, his hair as grey silver, tallest of all the Children of Ilúvatar."

Turgon in Of Tuor and His Coming to Gondolin: "Now Turgon himself would appear, 'tallest of all the Children of the World, save Thingol.'"

Argon in the Shibboleth of Feanor: "Arakáno was the tallest of the brothers and the most impetuous."

Maedhros. Just given the epithet 'The Tall' like many other characters. Not 'The Tallest'. and yet I see people constantly making him taller than Turgon; even if he's not a listed character in a fic, I must endure mentions about how he's taller than everyone else. Truly, a burden for me personally.

Beauty:

Lúthien in the Silmarillion: "And of the love of Thingol and Melian there came into the world the fairest of all the Children of Ilúvatar that was or shall ever be."

Feanor in the Silmarillion: "Feanor was made the mightiest in all parts of body and mind, in valour, in endurance, in beauty..."

Finarfin in the Silmarillion: "Finarfin was the fairest, and the most wise of heart."

Finrod in the Silmarillion: "Finrod Finarfin's son, fairest of all the princes of the Elves.

Galadriel in the Silmarillion: "Galadriel, most beautiful of all the house of Finwe."

Finwe in Morgoth's Ring: "fairest and noblest of the Eldar"

Maedhros. His mom thought he was pretty. HIS MOM. Yet whomst do I see (again, in places where he's really not relevant) being referenced all over the place as the most beautiful elf who ever elfed in all of history? Maedhros.

😑😑😑

[k-hotchoisan]

save a horse, ride a cowboy

<san x fem!reader>

Choi San. Half naked. Cowboy hat. Useless ass crop vest.

Your dreams are wetter than the sweat on his chest.

a/n: no words just horny thoughts the moment choi san appeared like that in the mv and I needed to get it off my chest. 🤗

wc: 1.8K

warnings: smut. pwp, party!au, deepthroating, blowjobs, slight hair pulling, one time spanking (LMAO), orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, it's just choi san brain rot, kinda dacryphilia?, yo it's just straight up filth that's all you need to know

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan  @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf  @jeon-ify @itza-meee @Miss-Fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @owlbeforesunset @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @Haleyjoye @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @ewok7attack @yunhogrippers @kibs-and-bits @Liyahbug  @mikrausch @sophiemueller05 @lissiesykes  @yeo-arriba @luvt0kki @vic0921 @httpseungmxn

You stare down at the man a couple of feet away, his figure too prominent to miss. He’s in a useless black cropped vest, bronze studs lined up the hems of the clothing accompanied with long fringe details that hung lower than the fucking vest itself. You barely take notice of the leather pants he wore, mostly because his arms were just there—thick and so perfectly muscled. But the star of the fucking show? His bare fucking tits. The vest barely covered jack shit, his tits just basking under the dim lights, thick and perky. Your eyes shift to his face before you start flooding the vicinity with your drool. Hell no. 

San still hasn’t noticed you. Maybe it’s because of the obnoxious black cowboy hat he has on looking like it’s blocking his view or something. And he tops the look off with a simple black bandana decorated with fringes that he wraps around his neck. 

You want to wrap yourself around his neck too. 

Your hunky little crush still doesn’t seem to notice you blatantly ogling him since it looks like he’s engrossed in a conversation with Mingi. 

The sound of a desert-themed party sounded interesting to you when your friend brought it up to you but it didn’t hook you in enough to actually garner your interest to go, that was, until your friend had offhandedly mentioned that San would be there.

You didn’t put your hopes up of course, because in your peripherals, it seemed like you weren’t the only pair of eyes just eye fucking San, and so you were satisfied letting your fantasies just stay within the confines of your brain, now just full Choi San brain rot. 

And when your brain starts ringing alarms on San looking like he was looking your direction, your eyes immediately shifting to your drink. But it seems like you caught his attention. 

From your peripherals, you watch him push past people, approaching you much quicker than you had liked. 

“Hey, y/n, caught you staring”, he smiles cheekily. 

“You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you Choi San?” 

He shrugs. 

Then he mouths something, but you can’t seem to catch what, and that sentiment seems to have been written all over your face, because the smell of spicy citrus hits you, accompanied by the low rumble of San’s voice right at your ear, freezing you at your spot.

“I was saying that you’re a pretty cowgirl today.”

Shit. Fuck. 

You stare up at San, tears gradually pooling at the corner of your eyes at how fucking thick this man’s cock is. But gods did it feel so fucking good to have San’s fat fucking cock shoved down your throat like that. You watch the way his abs contract when his groans are pulled out from him, the way his nipples are so fucking hard from how horny he is making you suck him off like that. Your panties are pretty much useless at this point trying to keep your slick from trickling down your thighs. 

“Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl for me aren’t you?” San groans, his fingers tugging harder against your scalp, forcing you to take his cock deeper. You manage to hum in agreement almost too quickly, and San only scoffs at your desperation, well not that he’s holding up any better. His eyes shut again, and he throws his head back, rutting his hips against your face, his moans going up in pitch, and when he happens to steal a glance at your face fucking his cock, you feel the space in your mouth fill up even more. 

Only curses and moans leave San’s mouth, and there’s only so much force you can use to squeeze your thighs from holding your cunt off from leaking all over the fucking floor. 

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, dollface. I can’t fucking—fuck!—can’t fucking wait to fuck your other tight little hole next”, San huffs breathlessly, his sanity dangerously dropping in levels. 

With a broken, deep moan, he suddenly pulls out of your mouth, fucking his cock with his hand instead, letting his cum spill over your mouth and chest, slightly shaking from the pleasure especially when he can’t keep his eyes off you licking his cum off his cock and the corner of your lips. 

You watch him catch his breath, and he’s so fucking attractive when he furrows his brows like that, but you decide to pull away to get some towels to clean yourself up. 

The moment you stand and turn around, San’s arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest, and you realise his fingers are loosening the knot on your top, and San doesn’t waste time to yank it off your shoulders. You barely have the time to process but you realise it doesn’t fucking matter the moment his deep voice bleeds right into the crevices of your brain. 

“Now where do you think you’re going babe? I said I was gonna fuck your other hole next, wasn’t I?” 

No more butterflies in your stomach anymore, it’s probably a whole ecosystem at this point. 

San’s fingers intertwine with yours, unfortunately, he doesn’t let it stay a second more fluffy when he has you on the bed, his thick fingers tugging off every single useless piece of clothing off you. San licks his lips when he’s greeted with the sight of your pussy just so fucking wet and leaking for him. His eyes meet yours, and he looks like he’s about to eat you up any second.

“How much do you like walking straight?” He asks, his fingers trailing a fucking blaze down your thighs, and you watch the way his cock hardens—the way precum from his silt is mixing with the thick cum from before when his thumb tugs against your wet folds. 

He looms over you, fingers keeping your legs spread wide open for him, his pants pulled lower, his half-hard cock resting on your inner thigh. 

“Not much of a fan”, you reply, realising that trying to snap your legs shut with Choi San’s fingers in between them was a stupid idea. 

“Good”, is all San replies before he pushes his thick cock right into your pussy, and you swear he’s knocked out all the wind from you at the way his thick cock slid in, filling your whole fucking pussy up. You gasp, fingernails digging into his arms, but he doesn’t even seem to take notice. But what he does take notice of is the way you’re fluttering around him, so fucking dazed at the way his cock feels in you. 

“So fucking good, San”, it leaves your lips as a whine. 

He exchanges a smile, “Your tight pretty pussy, and it’s all for me.”

Your eyes roll back when he pulls out slightly and thrusts into you again, and again, until the sounds grow wetter, louder, and San fucks you harder, making you wonder if you were gonna lose your legs or mind first. The sensations are completely melting off the neurons of your brain, and your hands are pressing against his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly. You feel your face flush slightly, wondering if he feels the same way as you do. 

Your thoughts are completely cut short when you feel his fingers curl around your neck, forcing you to look up at him when he lets his lips melt against yours. Your tongues meet, and you taste very light hints of alcohol underneath the sweetness. Soft moans pour out of San, and he’s only getting thicker inside of you as he lets your hands rake through his short locks.

“You’re like fucking heaven, you know that?” San whispers as he pulls back. The sweetness lasts for a second until he adds on, “And I wanna drag you down with me, baby.”

His arms are around you and he lifts you, in one swift motion, he has you straddling his hips, and you do him a favour by getting his pants off him. San pretty much kicks the remainder of his pants off, his arms pull you by your thighs to his once more, and you’re hoping you don’t drool because something about San being fully naked beneath you, only his vest barely covering his fat tits, just ready for you to fucking ride him was sending you into a fucking orbit. 

And even when you’re dripping and stretched open for San, the feeling of his cock splitting you open from below only threatened your remaining sanity. You watch San bite his lip, holding himself back from just bursting into you, also evident from the way his fingers are pressing hard against your thighs. 

But when you start grinding against him, he realises he probably isn’t gonna last much longer. 

And when his cock hits your spots for the nth time from below, your cunt flutters without warning, and the knot snaps before you could even say anything, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking tidal wave.

And San isn’t slowing down. 

His face is in complete bliss—muttering curses and releasing moans,

“Ah, fuck. That’s a good fucking girl, cumming all over my cock like that”, he hisses, feeling you pulsate around him helplessly as he continues to fuck into you, forcing you to continue bouncing off his cock. 

Tears bubble at the corner of your eyes once more from the sheer pleasure the moment you feel San hold your ass down, your arms wrapped tightly around him, feeling his cock twitch and spurt warm cum right into your poor hole. Wait. Something feels funny. You swallow hard, hoping, praying he doesn’t do anything because you swear something might just break in you if he does.

“S-San, wait it’s too much-“

You’re barely holding it together, and it all falls apart when his palm lands an impact right on your ass, forcing another wave of orgasm to hit you even harder this time, a strained cry leaving your throat, your pussy completely pushing San’s cock out, your hips lifting off him as you squirt all over his thighs, San’s cum spurting out alongside the clear liquid. San watches the way your eyes are screwed shut, your tears trickling down your cheeks, the way your body violently shakes while he soothes you with his palm up and down your back, and he thinks he’s in love. 

As you descend from your high, San captures your lips with his, humming soft praises of taking him so well once he pulls away, letting you lie on his chest. 

“I guess you're my pretty cowgirl tonight ”, he teases, letting you hit his chest playfully. 

San’s arm snakes around your waist as the both of you slowly make your way to the front door, catching the gaze of the partygoers, and he leans in as the both of you walk, low enough to reach your ears,

“I’ll make good use of the bandana next time too, so tell me doll face, how close do you like your wrists to be?”

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[cuzxai]

say it like you mean it - nsfw

spencer reid x afab!reader

a/n: fighting with spence ugh then you get breeded

The sound of the front door clicking shut sent a bolt of tension through your spine. You didn’t turn around right away—just stood by the kitchen sink, eyes fixed on the glass in your hand, watching the condensation trail down like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Anything to keep from looking at him.

Spencer’s keys hit the bowl by the door with a familiar clink. His bag landed on the counter a second later. And then silence. Heavy, expectant silence.

“You’re late,” you finally said, voice neutral. He exhaled. “I called.” You nodded once. “Yeah.” Still, you didn’t face him.

“I didn’t pick up because I was in the shower,” you added after a beat. “Figured if something happened to you, someone would’ve left a voicemail.”That made him pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was cautious but not soft. Tired, maybe. Defensive.

You turned then. Leaned back against the sink and looked at him for the first time that night. His hair was a mess, his tie halfway undone. His knuckles were raw. Your stomach turned. “It means,” you said slowly, “that I’m tired of playing this game where I pretend I’m not scared out of my fucking mind every time you walk out that door.”Spencer blinked. That he wasn’t expecting. “It was a raid,” he said like that explained everything. “There were risks, yes. But it was controlled. I had a vest on—”

“Oh, great,” you snapped. “A vest. That makes all the difference when some guy with a shotgun doesn’t give a shit where he aims.” He stepped closer, just one careful step. “You knew what I did when we got together.”

“Yeah. And I knew what war was when I read about it, but it’s a little different when you’re watching someone you love walk into it every goddamn day.” The words came out too fast, too raw. Spencer’s expression shifted like the ground beneath his feet tilted and he was struggling to stay upright. He swallowed. “I don’t want you to worry,” he said quietly. “Well, I do,” you said. “I can’t not.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now like the movement could help him make sense of it. “I don’t understand what you want from me. You think I want to be in danger? That I enjoy it?”

“No! I think you forget what it does to the people who have to sit at home and wait.” You moved toward him then, voice rising. “You come home late, bruised and bleeding and you downplay it. You act like it’s nothing. But you don’t see the way I flinch when you limp through the door. You don’t hear me crying in the shower after you fall asleep.” He stopped walking. “I didn’t know that,” he said. “Well, now you do.”

There was silence. The kind that burns in your throat and behind your eyes. And then softer, you whispered, “I don’t want to lose you.” Spencer’s head dropped. His hands clenched at his sides. You watched him breathe, slow and uneven.

“I’m sorry,” he said and for once, it didn’t sound automatic. It wasn’t a bandaid. It was an apology that cracked him open. “I didn’t realize you felt like this.” You wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “I try not to. Most of the time, I try really hard not to feel anything at all, because it’s easier than feeling like this.”

When you looked back up at him, his eyes were already on you. Soft, guilty, wrecked. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t care,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re the one thing I think about when things get bad. The only thing that keeps me from falling apart out there.”

The air shifted. Warmer. Closer. You didn’t move away when he touched your face, just leaned into it, heart pounding so loud it drowned everything else out. “I don’t want to lose you either,” he whispered.

Your breath caught when his thumb brushed your cheek, eyes locked with yours like he wasn’t sure whether to kiss you or keep confessing. You didn’t give him the choice. You leaned forward, grabbed his face and kissed him like it would keep him here. Keep him alive. Keep him yours. And he kissed you back just as hard, just as fast, like he needed to feel everything you were saying without saying it. It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t sweet. It was a collision.

He groaned into your mouth, both hands sliding down your sides like he had to touch you to believe this was real. His fingers gripped your hips tight enough to bruise, grounding himself in the weight of you. You reached for his belt with shaking hands, fumbling with the buckle while he bit down softly on your bottom lip, kissed you again and again and again like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

When you finally got his belt undone, he exhaled sharply, like even that was too much. Like the relief of being wanted was overwhelming. “Fuck,” he breathed against your mouth, “you’re still wearing the hoodie.” You laughed against him, breathless. “You bought it for me.”

“I know,” he said dragging his hands under the hem, bunching it up around your ribs so he could touch bare skin. “That’s the problem. You wearing my clothes when you feel like you’re losing me? That’s mean.” You didn’t answer. You just kissed him again, tugged at the waistband of his pants. You were desperate to feel more. To feel all of him.

He lifted you onto the kitchen counter without warning, the edge digging into your thighs but you didn’t care. All you could feel was the heat of his body, the growing hardness pressing into your hip and the sound of his breathing getting heavier with every second. His mouth moved from your lips to your jaw, your neck, biting the underside just hard enough to make your stomach tighten. You were so wet you could feel it and when his fingers slid under the band of your underwear and dipped between your legs, he groaned. His forehead falling against your shoulder. “God, baby,” he said. “You’re soaked.”

“Then do something about it.” He didn’t tease. Didn’t build up to it. Two fingers slid into you slowly, curling with that same pinpoint precision you always forgot about until he was inside you again. You gasped and grabbed at his shirt, nearly coming apart right there.“You’re always like this for me,” he murmured, lips dragging over your throat. “Even when we’re fighting. Even when you’re mad. Like your body knows.” You whimpered and he chuckled—low, rough, still hurt under all the lust.

“Yeah. That’s right.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, dragging him closer and he let out a breathless laugh, pulling his fingers out so he could shove his pants low enough to free himself. You tried to pull your underwear off completely but he grabbed your wrists, stopping you. “Leave them on,” he muttered. “Wanna fuck you with them still on. Pushed to the side. Want you messy for me.”

You moaned softly as he lined himself up, sliding inside with one smooth but unrelenting thrust. Your breath hitched, hands scrambling for anything to hold on to. He felt so deep, so full, you couldn’t think. “God, Spencer—”

“You feel that?” he rasped. “That stretch? That fullness? That’s mine.” He didn’t move for a moment. Just stayed buried inside you, gripping your waist like he was grounding himself in the feel of your body. “I almost lost this,” he whispered. “I thought I was losing you. You know what that did to me?”

Your throat tightened. “I love you,” you said, quiet and raw. He groaned and pulled out just enough to slam back in, making you cry out. “I know,” he hissed. “I know, baby.” Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging until he gasped. His laugh was wild, right against your skin. Then he started to move. Hard and fast, a rhythm fueled by every fear and every feeling he didn’t know how to say out loud. The slap of skin, the wet sounds between you and the harsh breaths—you couldn’t hear anything else. Couldn’t think of anything else. He reached down and grabbed the backs of your thighs, lifting your hips slightly to hit even deeper and you nearly sobbed. “Shit—Spence—”

“That’s it,” he panted. “That’s my girl. So good for me.”

“Yours,” you whimpered. “Say it again.” And you did. You did until you couldn’t anymore, until you couldn’t think about anything but him. He kissed you, open-mouthed and messy. His thrusts getting faster, rougher, his voice breaking around the words, “I love you.” he pants, “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to make you feel like this. Yeah?” you could barely respond, “Yes—yes—Spence, please—”

“You’re making such a mess on my cock, baby. You like it when I fuck you like this huh?” You were barely breathing. Your moans were punched out of you with every snap of his hips.“Gonna come,” you choked. “Yeah?” he said, grinning now. “Do it. Come for me. Come on my cock like you were made for it.” Your whole body clenched, legs locking around his waist as your orgasm hit, crashing through you like a wave. He didn’t stop. Rode it out, held you tight, eyes locked on yours as he fucked you through it.

The way your body locked up, thighs trembling around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders like you were trying to stay tethered to the earth. Your mouth opened in a silent moan at first, head falling back and Spencer watched, completely entranced as it bloomed across your face.

“Fuck,” he groaned, arms tightening around you, “fuck, baby. You look so pretty when you come.” Your walls clenched down around him, fluttering and tight. You were soaking him all over again as he kept fucking into you without pause. He wasn’t letting up. Not when you were this wet, this open for him. Not when your body was already responding again, too sensitive to handle the pace but still twitching like it wanted more. “Spence—” you whimpered, voice broken and caught in your throat. “I—I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” he whispered, hips rolling a bit slower now. “You will. You’re gonna take all of it. Just like that.” His hands splayed against your lower back, anchoring you in place as he thrust slow, firm strokes that made your eyes roll back. “Still so tight,” he muttered, breath hitching as he felt your muscles fluttering again. “Even after you came all over my cock, you’re still gripping me like you need it. Is that it? Huh sweetheart? You need this?” You nodded, helpless. “Yeah,” he coo’d, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “My smart girl. My good fucking girl.”

You were barely coherent. Every thrust sent sparks down your spine, each one threatening to knock you over the edge again. Your legs had gone numb, your hands scrabbling for anything to hold but Spencer was there, keeping you steady, whispering the filthiest things into your ear while he fucked you slow and deep. “Gonna make you come again,” he murmured, lips dragging along your jaw. “Just like this. Gonna stay inside you until you’re soaked and shaking. Until you can’t think of anything but how good I make you feel.”

You whimpered, legs twitching again. The overstimulation was dizzying but your body wasn’t stopping. Not even close. “Please,” you whispered. “Spencer, I need you.”

“You have me,” he said, voice sharp and certain. “You have me, baby. Always.”Your head dropped to his shoulder as another wave built up in your stomach, slow and molten. Your breath stuttered. Your body started to tremble again, and Spencer felt it. “Yeah,” he whispered. “There she is. Look at you.” He pulled back just enough to watch your face, to see the way your brows scrunched, lips parted in a cry that never fully formed. He didn’t blink. “Come for me,” he said, low and rough. “I want to feel it. Right now.” And you did.

A second orgasm tore through you, twice as intense as the first. Your whole body jerking in his arms, cunt clenching so hard around him that he nearly lost it right there. You moaned his name, a soft broken sob against his neck and he held you through it, still moving, still whispering praise against your skin. “So good f’me,” he groaned. “That’s it. You’re so good. So perfect like this—messy and mine.” He didn’t stop.

Even as you trembled, even as you gasped for breath, he kept going. Fucking you through the aftershocks, keeping you full and stuffed and close. You could feel him starting to unravel, his rhythm faltering, breath catching, jaw clenched like he was holding back everything until you were ready to fall apart with him.

You felt it in the way he gripped your hips tighter. The way his voice dropped into something ragged, something helpless. “You want me to come inside you?” he asked breathlessly, brow pressed to yours. “You want me to fill you up?” You whimpered, barely a nod, barely a sound and his eyes darkened like it was the only answer he’d ever needed.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. Not after everything—your second orgasm still rippling through your body, slick dripping down his cock, your eyes glazed and dazed and stuck on him like he was the only thing tethering you to reality. You were wrecked and trembling and still letting him fuck you deep, whispering his name with every breath like it meant something holy. And to him, it did.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice shattering as he fucked up into you harder now, sloppier, chasing the edge that had been threatening to snap since you started pulsing around him. “I’m—shit, baby, I’m gonna come—” You whined into his shoulder, nails dragging down his back and that was it. Spencer’s hips stuttered, the rhythm falling apart entirely as he buried himself as deep as he could go, forehead pressed to yours. His whole body tensed—his breath caught—and then he came, hard and hot inside you. A broken groan tearing from his throat like he’d been holding it back for weeks. “Jesus,” he choked, his hands gripping your hips to keep you right where he needed you. “Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good—made to take it, I swear…”

You felt him pulse inside you, ropes of it filling you up. The warmth flooding through you in slow, overwhelming waves. Spencer kept moving through it—slow thrusts that pushed it deeper, that kept him grounded while the orgasm tore through him like a lightning strike.

“Shit,” he whispered again, like he couldn’t say anything else. His voice cracked on it. You reached up and held his face, brushing the sweaty hair off his forehead and he leaned into your touch like it was oxygen. He didn’t pull out, not yet. Just stayed there, still hard inside you and breathing like he’d just run for miles and finally found his way home.

“I love you,” he murmured against your mouth like a confession. “Even when we’re like this. Especially when we’re like this.” You nodded, still catching your breath. You felt ruined. You felt whole. And even though nothing was fixed yet, even though the fight still lingered somewhere in the background—you knew you’d be okay. Not just because he came back to you. But because he never really left.

[steviewashere]

Oh, oh, oh

Eddie thinking Steve is kind of a good dude, but still holding his biases after Vecna. Oh, the way he looks at Steve is with his nostrils flared and his eyes skeptical. He stomps on Steve's interests because it's just "sportsball talk" and it's "not that important"; and he holds his own interests higher on a pedestal because they're all about "giving voices to the unheard" and "making others feel at home". Having this incredible, unmissable, unavoidable hypocrisy when it comes to Steve Harrington.

He greets him with a mocking, "Harrington," but never a "Steve" or a "Stevie." It's strictly last name basis. Eddie refuses to reach out to him, unless it's truly dire. He refuses to meet-up with Steve for hangouts—even if it's a movie night with everybody or it's an arcade trip with the whole party or a late night diner call. He wants nothing to do with Steve. But he can admire the way Steve calibrates himself with others, saves them time and time again, sticks up for them.

And the real kicker?

Steve is trying to be the best for Eddie. Not for himself. Not for the party. But for Eddie. He's not sure why it matters at all that he has Eddie's seal of approval, but if he doesn't...for some reason, it brings a hard-hitting ache to his chest, a stomach dropping sort of nausea, a burn behind his eyes. It shouldn't matter to him that Eddie won't hug him, won't indulge his interests, won't call him by his name. It really shouldn't.

But he keeps pushing, keeps trying. Calls Eddie, well, Eddie. He asks Dustin for advice, how he could approach, how to appease him. Erica puts on campaigns, just so that Steve can learn how to play; maybe Eddie wouldn't mind Steve teaming along for campaigns, as long as he can play. He's offering rides. He's giving Eddie his monthly free pass at Family Video. He's trying to laugh the hardest at Eddie's jokes, keep silent when he doesn't get something. He bites back on his retorts, on his usual catty playfulness, his jokey assholery��all because Eddie got on the defense and practically snarled at him the last time he tried to joke around with Robin about her failing dates. He pulls back and he keeps himself polite and he smiles when appropriate and he tries to expand his style, his music taste, his movie likes, his nerd vernacular. And he thinks he's doing a good job, pleasing Eddie. Because Eddie doesn't roll his eyes, doesn't snap at him, doesn't sigh at him, doesn't flare his nostrils—none of that.

Until...

Steve does something, he's not sure what. Maybe made a joke at the wrong moment? Argued a little too loudly? Didn't give Eddie what he wants? It had to be something he did. Something wrong.

Because Eddie's all mad at him, beyond pissy, beyond offended. Angry in a way that scares Steve, almost. Red-faced and stomping and big. And then, as the walls begin to close in, just as the floor begins to sink at Steve's feet, just as he's ready for Eddie to just slap him or punch him or knock some screws loose—

"I hate you."

And it's not the same as a punch, but it lands like one anyway. Knocking the wind right out of Steve's sails. He's standing straight one moment, off-kilter and ready to collapse the next.

"You hate me?"

He doesn't even hear the next thing Eddie says, blood rushing to his ears, drowning out the sounds. Because with his back against a wall, in the Wheeler's empty basement (as the kids all went up for some lunch, their D&D stuff strewn about), a sick curl of dread in Steve's stomach, he makes a haunting realization:

Nothing he does will ever be enough for Eddie. No matter the battle they fought. No matter the space they shared, chuckling into each other's ears, telling each other they were better than expectations. No matter the stuff Steve learned, or the way he cleaned Eddie's vest, or the media training he's essentially done to himself. None of it will be enough for Eddie.

Because in Eddie's head?

Steve Harrington is kind of a good guy.

But one act of bravery doesn't immediately erase an image. It doesn't get rid of drilled in biases. Or a well-crafted, initially well-meaning rule set in one's head.

At the end of the day, Steve Harrington was still King Steve. He was still this jockish asshole with a bit of boyish charm.

And Eddie's not a fool, no he isn't (except yes he eventually is), flattery won't work on him this time. All it takes is one moment, one vulnerability, and Steve will be showing his true colors. Any moment now, is what Eddie is constantly telling himself, any moment, the other shoe is going to drop.

He doesn't want to admit it. That Steve is good. That he's funny and charming and smart and wonderful. That, even in his attempt to put distance, Eddie is sort of falling for this version of Steve—supposedly this real version of him.

Again, though, he isn't a fool.

Even if he has a chance.

Because Steve didn't know why it mattered, not initially. But up close, Eddie's angry flaming eyes in front of him, his soft freckles dashing across his face, the thick furrow of his eyebrows—even angry, Steve can see that Eddie is handsome. Even angry, Eddie is everything Steve's wanted. Even angry, Eddie is light. And Steve?

God, Steve's in love.

He wanted the validation because he's in love. But Eddie won't ever know that. Because he apparently hates Steve. And Steve also isn't a fool. There's no point in sticking around if he's only going to make things worse, there's no point in befriending Eddie when he's already made up his mind. There's no point trying to earn a love that's worth half a dime to even his own parents. There's no point.

Maybe the distance is good.

Maybe the distance is just what they needed.

Maybe, just maybe, the friendship was dead in the water before it had the chance to swim.

Steve dashes away from it all, from the Wheeler's, from the party, from their game, from Eddie. What's he gonna do now? He's not sure. Maybe a bouquet of flowers and a well meaning apology would mean something. Maybe some dice and an apology?

But what did he even do? What's he apologizing for?

Maybe it wouldn't mean anything, especially since Eddie seems damn set on refusing to listen.

(Do they make up? I don't know...maybe...you decide.)

(Also...parallels? Me writing parallels? More likely than you think.)

[cherrygirlfriend]

Hiii darling, I was thinking about how reader loves to give nerd!rafe a boner in the most inappropriate times just to see how red and nervous he gets

three times when perv!reader got nerd!rafe hard at inappropriate moments. 18+

thank you for the request!! i hope you enjoy love <3 btw, i’m starting a taglist for rafe! feel free to lmk by comment or dm if you want to be added!!

⭑.ᐟ rafe and you were sitting in the school cafeteria, your lips pursed as you watched your crush eat, talking in between swallows about a new game he’d stayed up to play for the entire night. you nodded along, even though you really had no clue what he was talking about. it didn’t really matter; rafe always looked so cute when he started rambling about his interests.

“it’s such a scary and immersive experience, and the ghosts are different types! some of them are actually based on japanese folklore like oni, onryo, obake… you can also play it with your friends, and i think we should really do that. i have a ps5 in my dorm and you could play it on that while i play on my pc.” rafe mumbled excitedly before he turned to look at you, his brows furrowing when he realized that you’d been staring at him, “is… is there something on my face?”

“no. i just think you’re cute.” you said nonchalantly, placing your hand on his upper thigh, the boy’s eyes widening and a pink tint slowly starting to appear on his cheeks. rafe looked away to hide his flushing face, but as you squeezed your thigh, you couldn’t help but look down and notice him hardening. “we should totally play it together.

⭑.ᐟ after five months of being together, you decided to introduce rafe to your parents, the boy now sitting at your dinner table. he looked adorable, wearing a dark blue sweater vest over a button-down, dressed like he was going to church instead of your home.

“i’ve gotta say, rafe, you’re not like most guys my daughter brings home.” your father crossed his hands, his shoulders resting against the dining table. “dad!” you chided in embarrassment, feeling your face turn hot. “what, sweetheart? it’s true. most of the boys you’ve brought home to meet us have been the type of boys no man wants within five feet of their baby girl.”

“well, i’m not a baby anymore.” you mumble, your lips turned down into a pout while rafe lets out a small chuckle next to you. his hand moves to take yours under the table, intertwining your fingers, your pout turning into a small smile, “don’t worry, sir. i intend to take good care of your daughter.”

after dinner, rafe had insisted on doing the dishes, earning a delighted, clearly approving look from your mother. as your boyfriend stood at the sink, you couldn’t help but approach him from behind, your arms wrapping around his torso, turning your head so your cheek was against his back. “you know, my parents really like you.”

“mmhm, you think so?” he hummed, his muscular back warm against your cheek as he continued doing the dishes. “that’s good.”

“no it’s not.” you pouted, “it means we’ll have to break up.”

at your words, your boyfriend turned around in your arms and you looked up at him, “we have to break up because your parents like me?” rafe asked, his hands wet and soapy and a dumbfounded look on his face, “yeah. i can’t have a boyfriend that my parents like.” you grinned mischievously, pressing a small peck on his lips. “you’re impossible.”

“mmhm. how impossible am i?” you asked, pressing yourself into him, rafe letting out a low whine, “angel, we’re at your parents’ place.”

“i’m well aware.” you bit down on your lower lip and pressed yourself into him again, another whine leaving rafe’s lips as he closed his eyes, and you could feel him starting to get hard, his growing erection pressing against your leg. but when you did it for the third time, rafe let out a whimper and you knew you had him hooked, “wanna make my parents like you a little less and sneak into my old room?”

⭑.ᐟ if there was something that could bore you to death, it would be history class. you sat with your friends, simply admiring your boyfriend’s side profile, rafe choosing to sit a few rows ahead of you because he knew if he sat next to you, you’d never let him get anything done; you were never too good at paying attention in class, but it definitely helped to be dating the smartest guy who was meticulous about his notes and more than willing to share them with his girlfriend.

you leaned your head on your hand, a small smile on your face as you watched him, scribbling notes into his notebook, his glasses close to falling off his nose; you’d asked him once why he just didn’t use a laptop, and he’d told you writing via hand helped him remember better. it was so adorable.

you took out your phone, hiding it out of view from the professor, but as you glanced at rafe, you couldn’t help but want to tease him.

going into the hidden folder of your photo gallery, you scrolled through it a bit until you found a picture of yourself taken in the shower; or more like, a picture of your tits, your bare chest soaped up, the picture cropped so you could only see your pouty lips, your arm covering your nipples.

you shared it to the contact ‘my love ♡’ along with the message ‘bored :((’, and when the screen said that it was delivered, you watched the screen of rafe’s phone lit up. discreetly, he put down his pen and grabbed the phone.

delivered turned into read, and within seconds, his phone was face down on the desk, and rafe whipped his head to look at you, his cheeks red and eyes wide; you simply blew him a kiss.

when rafe turned back around to face the professor, though, you couldn’t help the grin that took over your face when you noticed him adjusting his pants at the crotch before going back to taking notes.

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[frvnkcastles]

BREATHE ME IN SWEET SUFFERING ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: He needs to get back home to you.

Warnings: Violence, female reader (feminine nicknames used), SPOILERS FOR BORN AGAIN

Word count: 1.3k

Author’s note: We are so back. I enjoyed the finale tremendously and my best guy always delivers. That last scene really did something to me and I knew I had to do something with it. I’m also near the end of my semester so I’m hoping to post more frequently soon!! <3

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

You were going to be pissed. Or at the very least, upset in a way that ate at him from the inside. That was the only thing on his mind as he sat in that cage, chained and beaten. Well, the only thing of two — the other being how he would escape, but he supposed those two were interlocked. After all, his main motivation for escape was to get back home to you. He could still feel your lips on his cheek, your grip on his arm as you bid him goodbye, even after all the punches he had taken today; none of it was enough to wipe away the memory of your sweet touches, always so gentle and tender with him.

”What’s going on?” you asked him when he emerged from the bedroom, his vest strapped to his chest and his gun over his shoulder. He looked like a man on a mission, and that was nothing new to you, except just a moment ago he had been all wrapped up in your little bubble of domesticity, counting down the minutes until the homemade dinner you had prepared for him just because. Jesus, you were heaven-sent.

”Karen called”, he rasped, his voice heavy with the guilt of letting you down, ”needs me to save Red’s ass.”

”Oh.” He heard the disappointment in your voice, no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. ”Okay. Be safe”, you added with a smile, putting great effort into not letting your dismay show, but he saw right through you.

With a sigh, he dropped his bag and stepped over to you, his tall frame looming over you. He cradled the back of your head and pulled you in to kiss your forehead. ”Hey”, he said sternly, tilting his head down to look at you in the eye, a solemn look on his rough features. ”I ain’t bailin’, aight? Y’know you’re the most important thing I got, sweetheart. I’ll be back for dinner.”

You gave him a smile, nodding in understanding. ”Okay, Frankie. I’ll keep it warm for you”, you promised, and taking in a deep breath, appreciative of your eternal patience with his antics, he kissed your forehead again.

And then, he walked out of your shared home.

God, you’d have a field day with this, him in chains. You’d probably say something witty to call him out on his impulsive bullshit. But deep down, you’d be worried and do your damnedest to help, he knew that. The thought made him crack a weak smile to himself, the split on his lip stinging but it was a good kind of pain.

He knew he had to act, had to get out of there. The thought of you sitting at the dinner table all alone, anticipating when his key would turn in the lock, carved at his soul.

”How’s it goin’?” he spoke up in the silent room, calling out to the guard pacing outside his cage. The man, young and foolish enough to turn his attention did exactly that, stopping in front of Frank. ”What do, uh, what do they call you?” he continued, feigning interest in his keeper. He didn’t turn on the charm often — in fact, he reserved it for you and for very desperate situations, and undoubtedly, this was one. With no guns to his aid, he stooped to sweet-talking his way out. He had gotten pretty good at that with you.

”Anthony”, the guard responded cautiously.

”Anthony”, Frank parroted him, ”you got a last name?”

The guard didn’t hesitate, and Frank knew he was getting his hooks in. ”Anthony Petruccio”, he elaborated, and nodding in approval, Frank adjusted himself in the cage.

”There ya go. It’s a good name. It’s strong”, he licked his lips, a crooked smile on his lips. He grabbed the chains, pulling himself up, forced to crouch down in the cage that was by no means suitable for a man of his sheer size. ”Where you from, Anthony Petruccio?” he asked, prepared to go along with whatever the guard would tell him.

”Jersey.”

Watching him closely, Frank staggered to the front of the edge, a grin on his face. ”Ah, Jersey”, he chuckled, ”you know, I-I thought so. I had a feeling, y’know?”

The guard was eating it up, and he could tell. He made small-talk like it was second nature to him, saying exactly what Anthony wanted to hear. He could practically taste your lips, so close to breaking free and running back home to you.

”You, uh, you got a lady, Anthony?” Frank queried, tilting his head at the man as he knelt down at the front of the cage. When the guard nodded, he chuckled again. ”Yeah? Yeah, I, uh, me too. My girl’s waitin’ for me, y’know? Told her I’d be back for dinner. Missed it a few times too many, and I ain’t really a fan of lettin’ my gal down. I’m, uh, a man of my word, yeah?” he went on, emphasizing the soft side of him, hoping to appeal to Anthony — and it was working.

”You know a lil’ about me, Anthony?” he asked then, and when the guard confirmed, he chuckled, ducking his head like he was bashful. ”A little bit, yeah? Then you, uh, you gotta know that my girl, she’s a real one, y’know? Ain’t too many people in this world who’d deal with my bullshit, stick with me through everythin’”, he explained, and the soft nod he received in response told him enough. He had painted a pretty picture for Anthony, earned his pity.

”I ’preciate you givin’ me a minute like this”, Frank smiled at him, standing up but still crouching before sliding one chained hand out of the small opening in the front of the cage. ”It’s an honor to meet you”, he added, and that sealed the deal — Anthony walked over to him, taking Frank’s hand to shake it.

Frank thanked him. ”I really can’t let my girl down, Anthony”, he spoke finally, before twisting his arm. A sickening crack echoed through the room, and as Anthony collapsed against the cage, Frank yanked on his arm as hard as he could, slamming him against the metal over and over again. And then, he bent his arm down completely, breaking it for good.

Satisfied with himself, Frank grabbed the keys from him, and in a blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving only an empty cage and poor Anthony’s body behind. He made his way home, careful not to get caught again, his only objective to have you in his arms.

As soon as he was through the door, you were all over him. Panicked gasps enveloped him, your hands running across his face and body, assessing the situation. ”Oh my God, Frank, I—I was so worried. Are you okay? Well obviously you’re not, Christ! Baby, I was so scared, I saw the news and—and I just—”, you stammered, but he just shushed you, taking your shaky hands in his own and stopping you from fretting over him.

”Hey, hey, shh, shh. Sweetheart, I’m here. It’s alright, hey, don’tcha worry, darlin’”, he tried to reassure you, looking down at your horrified face. He knew his words probably didn’t mean much, the swelling on his barely gone down and the rest of him just as tortured.

”You can’t be serious”, you sighed softly, looking over his face, ”you look like someone put you in a blender, baby.”

Mustering a chuckle, Frank dropped his forehead against yours. ”I’m fine, sweetheart. Real fine now that I’m home”, he insisted, cradling your face to pull you into a tender kiss. You could taste blood on his mouth and your tongue swept across the cut on his bottom lip, but he didn’t falter, kissing you slow and deep.

When he finally pulled away, he kissed your forehead, smiling against your skin. ”Sorry I missed dinner.”

[beifong-brainrot]

Actually I WILL talk about Mai's seeming 'radicalisation'. With the upcoming comic, I can see why a lot of people are confused/caught offguard by Mai suddenly having a vested interest in reforming the Fire Nation's school curriculum.

However, I don't think it's as much of a heelturn as one would believe at first glance.

Mai is a difficult character to pinpoint on some levels, particularly due to her upbringing which stripped her of a lot of her self expression. I think most of the fandom underestimates the trauma and effect of Mai's upbringing. I elaborate on it here.

However, the long and short of it is that Mai was not encouraged to question, criticise or, god forbid, rebel against her enviornment. To the point where her parents scared her with stories of spirits that would kidnap her if she misbehaved.

Ukano's involvement in politics and relatively high status should also be taken into account. Mai would have grown up being strongly encouraged to conform to her father's beliefs and go along with his politics.

Mai : My mother said I had to keep out of trouble. We had my dad's political career to think about.

We've seen the propaganda and indoctrination of the Fire Nation school system, how it uses misinformation in its curriculum and how it punishes deviance.

Most fire nation children won't have the tools to find the cruelty and danger in the philosophy of the Fire Nation. Zuko had to get banished from the country to even start his deconstruction. And he had Iroh at his side to guide him.

It's not shocking that Mai would not be able to see the flaws of the Fire Nation. Despite this, she still shows no attachment to the Nation's cause, either. In fact, she actively refused to take part in the war effort when she thought she could get away with it.

I don't think Mai had much sympathy to the other nations, nor will I claim she secretly harboured anti imperialistic sentiment. I simply want to state the fact that Mai was, from a young age, forced to do things she didn't want to do and conditioned by multiple parties, to accept this. Mai has been trained to be passive, with only the method of passive aggressiveness and gloominess to defend herself.

I think after the fall of Ozai's rule and the slow restructuring of the Nation, Mai got more freedom in her life. Ukano's political role diminished, so Mai was allowed to think for herself. She gets to discover the world more and develop her own thoughts and ideals, rather than the ones she'd been forced to conform to.

This line in the upcoming comic seems to confirm my thoughts:

Mai's upbringing is the underground and darkness. She was never given an alternative or agency in her life. And thanks to Zuko, she was able to see and experience a different world than the one she was brought up with. She is able to help to try and achieve it.

Initially, Mai is angry at Zuko's joining of team Avatar. She feels betrayed and upset that he did not talk to her in person, even if it was to protect her. And yet, she saves him. While I believe that most of her motivation was genuinely out of love for Zuko. But she also, ekther inadvertently or deliberately made the choice between Azula and Zuko. Between the two potential duture leaders of the Nation.

And she chose Zuko. Who is not only the boy she loves, but also the boy who can heal her nation.

There is an argument to be made about how Mai represents the Fire Nation itself and its relationship to Zuko, but that is a topic for another day.

The theme of Mai caring for the future of the Fire Nation can be seen expanding in the comics. As 99% of the fandom will tell you, the comics have their flaws, but I do enjoy their handling of Mai for the most part.

I think it's interesting that we are shown that Mai not only wants Zuko to be Fire Lord, but for him to be a good Fire Lord.

We see her dissapointed in Zuko secretly meeting with Ozai. At first glance, what she says to Zuko is that she is dissapointed in him keeping secrets from her, which is understandable, since the last time he kept a secret from her led to him joining the opposite side of a war.

However, with her next appearance, we see that Mai may have had another concern relating to Zuko's communing with Ozai. When Ty Lee informs her of Zuko also enlisting Azula's help, Mai exclaims 'so he really is turning into his father', which seems to denote that Mai has a distaste for Ozai and his rule, whether that be from the begining, or recently acquired.

Mai also criticises Zuko's callous and controlling restrictions over the frightened townspeople. This serves to further cement the idea of Mai becoming disillusioned with the similarly inclined authority figures of her past. Authority figures who were a symptom of the Fire Nation's utilitarian and imperialistic system. We see this disdain manifesting in its full force in the teasers for the upcoming comic.

I think people tend to not realise how restricted in her self expression and thoughts Mai was, despite all the puzzle pieces being laid out for us in the show.

Mai has gone through a very quick and yet realistic episode of character growth in my opinion. Not unlike a lot of people raised in heavily Conservative and restrictive households who peel off later in life, she's settling into her own mindset and motivations.

Ans I don't think it's an unrealistic idea for Mai to want to help change the education system. The Fire Academy for girls is where she met Azula, and as an all girl school alumni, I can tell you first hand how toxic and confining these enviornments can be.

While Mai may not be seen as a particularly empathetic or kind person (though I think this interpretation is flawed), she can sympathise with the young girls who will be placed in the shoes of her younger self.

She can want to not see these kids go through what she, Ty Lee AND Azula did.

[The panels of Mai glancing between the stifling interior of the school and the open window and choosing to go outside and lead the Nation's youth outside... ugh]

Not only is this a rather logical progression for Mai's character, in my opinion, but it also feels like a very big 'healing your inner child' moment for Mai. Since she was not really seemingly allowed to be a child, as most children in the Fire Nation appeared to have such restrictions placed on them.

I don't think it's much of a stretch of the imagination that Mai would want to have at least a small part in dismantling the system that harmed her and so many other children of the nation.

She is a young woman now, she has grown from the oversheltered, apathetic teen she was in the show. She has been able to make her own informed opinions about the state of the nation, has been able to hone her trauma into determination. And it seems we're going to see the fruits of this development in "Ashes of the Academy".

I have very high hopes for the upcoming comic, since what we've seen of it appears to make a compelling story, one I relate to deeply, as well as a good study of Mai, a character I find often misinterpreted by the fandom.