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ikamigami · 3 days

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THE CYCLE OF TRAUMA

In this post I'll try to explain how Sun is trapped in a cycle of trauma and I'll try to answer the question whether he can escape it or not and how he can escape it if it's possible.

I think that I know the answer to why Sun is often pushed aside and doesn't even feel like MC in Sun and Moon Show sometimes.. it's because the show is telling two stories.

One story is the one that we see. The one which follows mostly what happens with Moon because Moon does more things than Sun. Sun is doing his own things in the background. Or he's a gag character in most of funny lore episodes. This story is the surface level of watching it and seeing the obvious parallels between events.

It's not a bad way to engage with the show but it's more like watching MCU - easy story to follow with foreshadowing, payoffs and parallels.

But there's also a second story.. a story hidden in details and subtle hints and lines which are echoes of the past events.. and the main character of this story is Sun who is a traumatised victim of abuse.

This is more deep reading of events in the show - we could say it's meta interpretation of it.

I'm not going to lie to you that I found it weird and a bit repulsive how awfully Sun is treated as a victim of abuse.. because his trauma was never addressed properly - Sun could never talk openly about what happened to him and no one even helped him with that.. sometimes they didn't even want to listen to him..

I didn't want to accept that Sun healed off-screen or just even got better off-screen because of how much he went through and things like that just don't magically disappear.. all this trauma couldn't just disappear.. especially if Sun never had a break. His life is traumatising event after traumatising event after traumatising event..

"Stop! How can you say that Sun didn't have a break when he literally did while Solar and Moon took care of everything?" you're probably asking this right now. And my answer is: yes, you're right, Sun literally had a break. Literally - a surface level of watching show.. a story that we see..? You probably don't know what I'm trying to say. But this is exactly why I'm making this post.

Today's episode helped me realize that what's happening right now is just another face of Sun's trauma.

Moon is not only acting similarly to Old Moon but he even tried to guilt-trip Sun and he minimized his trauma by mocking it which was the exact same thing Old Moon was doing during their fights.

Moon even said that only after two years Sun was able to grow a spine to stand up to Moon.. doesn't it sound familiar?

Old Moon said during one of their fights that Sun shouldn't apologize for yelling at him because he shouldn't apologize for having a spine.. hmm.. it's obvious parallel yet it's a reverse one.

Old Moon was trying to make Sun stand up for himself in abusive way.

Now Moon is trying to squash Sun's confidence by laughing at Sun's efforts of trying to stand up for himself which essentially mocks Sun's trauma.

And later when I was watching mgafs episode it dawned on me. Sun went to Monty for help when Moon is dangerous.. doesn't it sound familiar?

The last time Sun went to Monty for help was when kill code reactivated in Old Moon.. but before that Sun went to Monty for help when Lunar was pretending to be Old Moon and they couldn't switch places.

But who told Sun to go to Monty for help if situation with Moon would be too much to handle for Sun? Old Moon.

It seems that Old Moon's words still have an impact on Sun.

But there's more.. Sun locked Moon in a cell just like Old Moon did to him a year ago. Sun decided to use shocks to keep Moon from doing something stupid and harming himself.

It really seems that Sun was influenced by Old Moon's actions.

But also the only helpful thing that Sun knows is talking to Earth because Earth was the one who helped him back then.. so if Earth's words didn't help Moon what else can?

Old Moon never listened to Sun and now Moon also doesn't listen to him. So what left?

He went to Monty for help but it turned out that Monty can't help. Monty's words don't work anymore with Moon like they used to with Old Moon. Monty and Foxy's only solution is to forcefully snap Moon out of it by endangering Sun at expense of Bloodmoon's life cause who cares about Bloodmoon..

So the only answer is violence. But if you think about it Sun's life is filled with violence to the brim. Old Moon used to solve their every problem with violence. New Moon also tried to solve their every problem by killing whoever he deemed an enemy.

Sun tried to talk with Eclipse but it didn't work. The only thing that left was to expell him from his head which was a death of OG Eclipse.

He tried to warn Bloodmoon. It didn't work and he killed them in self-defence.

He tried to listen to V2 Eclipse (Eclipse with the star) but Eclipse could only threaten them and told them to kill Lunar. So the only thing that left was to push Eclipse through the portal and Moon killed him.

He tried to talk to New Bloodmoon but it didn't work either and the only thing that left once again was violence.

He convinced Moon to help Ruin which turned out to be Solar's and trillions of others' lives doom. So what left? They had to lock Ruin but it created more problems - Molten trying to kill him and now Ruin is once again working with Bloodmoon and we can only imagine that they're up to no good. So they'd most definitely have to use violence.

Sun tried to resolve things differently. He tried to help. But none of this worked. His help only made things worse. And everyone's answer seem to be only violence.. violence violence violence violence violence violence violence..

So it's not surprising at all that Sun is doing what Old Moon taught him. Even if it isn't what Sun wants. And the worse thing is that now others are trying to force him to make a decision that will have an impact on everything. It'll either work and things will get better or it won't and everything will get worse.

You may say that Sun has Earth and Lunar as a support. But while it is true that he still has them they already expressed that they don't want to help. And let's be honest, neither Earth nor Lunar did much to help Sun with his trauma. They aknowledged it but that's it. Lunar never talked about it with Sun. And the only thing Earth did was apologizing to Sun for making him sad by mentioning Old Moon's death because she knows how hard it is for him.

But it isn't what Sun needs. He needs help. You may say "why he doesn't talk to them about his trauma?" The thing is he tried. But when he needed help the most - after Old Moon's death - they told him to move on or Moon straight up yelled at him for just simply mentioning Old Moon.

So it's not surprising that Sun doesn't try to open up about it anymore. Because he learned that it's better not to do that. And that's why he thinks that his issues are less important than others' problems. Because no one cared to help him. But because Sun knows that they love him so there's only one reason why they didn't help him. And this reason is that his issues aren't that much of a big deal. Why should he bother others with his issues when others don't seem to care that much? They probably don't care that much because these issues aren't real problems.. I bet that this is what Sun thinks about that.

Let's get back to the main topic of this post. Sun is trapped in a cycle of trauma. From the beginning of his existence the only thing he knows is trauma. First with Old Moon who abused him physically, mentally and emotionally. Later Old Moon promised to change yet he left Eclipse in Sun's head which created another trauma for Sun and Old Moon didn't stop being abusive. Later when they thought that they defeated Eclipse another problem appeared - Bloodmoon. But it wasn't enough because it turned out that there's new Eclipse who activated Old Moon's kill code reopening Sun's trauma.

Eventually Sun's already poor mental state worsened even more and he experienced psychotic episode. And what others did at that time? They abandoned Sun and because he was too detached from reality he wasn't able to stop himself. And in such state he did things that he regrets. But even if he regrets them he can't do anything about it. He has to live with consequences of his actions even if he wasn't at fault for neither Old Moon's nor Lunar's death. But it only deepened his trauma.

At that point Sun thought that the only solution is to die hoping for fresh start like Moon had. Hence why he decided to be conduit for star's power and tried to sacrifice himself. Thankfully he survived and Eclipse was gone. Things seemed to get better. Unfortunately Sun's family didn't help him with his trauma at that time. Even if it was the best time to adress his issues considering that he was still suicidal back then.

Though Ruin already was a threat. After all he kidnapped Sun and the way Moon dealt with it wasn't the best - reminding Sun of his trauma once again. Yet back then Ruin's threat seemed so distant. Until he decided to bring Bloodmoon back. And also Solar's appearing disrupted dynamics in the family regardless of this being unintentional. Then Ruin blew up the Daycare and Sun and Moon were sent to Ruin's dimension.

And even if later things seemed to get better once again it wasn't long before Bloodmoon completely mauled Earth's body and they had to deal with them and also Stitchwraith threatened that if they'll try to interfere he will do worse things then simply kidnapping Earth.

At that time Sun seemed very distanced from everyone. He had serious memory issues and he wasn't answering any messages and calls. It didn't seem good.

And then Eclipse returned once again. And we all of a sudden found out that Sun was feeling great until Eclipse's return.. it doesn't add up.

And later Sun decided to leave everything to Moon and Solar to deal with while he was spending time alone in their house, drinking wine and relaxing with his cats.. and he seemingly got better. He just needed a break.

It doesn't make much sense when you consider everything Sun went through. Yes, on surface level Sun seems to be doing much better and break helped him.. but is it actually true?

If we look at it deeper through lense of a story of very traumatised victim of abuse.. it seems that this was Sun's another attempt at breaking the cycle of trauma. The first attempt was sacrificing himself. Second was to try and avoid getting engaged with anything. After all when he tried to help everything got worse. So he naturally tried to do the opposite.. which turned out even worse.

Solar died because of Ruin's plan and he wouldn't be able to do it if it wasn't for Sun convincing Moon to help him. Moon is now losing his mind because of Solar's death and like Sun said he wishes that he said more to Moon when he had mental breakdown. And now Moon is acting worse than Old Moon and Sun is basically reliving his trauma. Sun is trying his best to keep his family together but is he actually able to do that?

You may think that he is.. but when you consider Sun's mental state - depressive psychosis and delusions centered around guilt and unworthiness making Sun feel like he's the one who is bad.. it doesn't seem likely.

You can disagree with me but there's plenty of evidence that support my claim. Also Moon told Sun that he has a little bit of Eclipse in him still.. and not so long ago Eclipse told Sun that he would make a good Eclipse when this is exactly what Sun was afraid of a year ago. And Lunar back then told him that he's acting exactly like Eclipse.

I'm pretty sure that it's affecting Sun. As much as he tries to say otherwise. That Moon's words doesn't have any impact on him anymore. It's not true. After all, we can still see how much Old Moon's words affected him.

Having all of this in mind, I wouldn't be surprised if Sun ended up blaming himself for what happened. Also considering that things will get worse soon. After all, Taurus is after Lunar and he'll either execute them immediately or put them to test.. which probably won't be anything nice. And Earth is hiding that she's friends with Eclipse and she trusts him more than her family because she tells Eclipse things that she wouldn't say to them. And who knows what Ruin and BM will do. And lastly.. Sun will find out soon that Dazzle is victim of July 16th incident. It doesn't look too good for him.

Even if Sun keeps going for his family. Will he be able to take more of this?

I don't think so. Because why then showrunners didn't let things to get better even if a bit? Why everything seems to get worse?

But is there a way for Sun to escape the cycle of trauma? He tried to sacrifice himself which even if it'd ended with him being dead he still would do something good, right? He'd protect his family. He tried to distance himself from everything to not make things worse with his help. But it ended up making everything even worse. So is there any option left for Sun to break the cycle?

Yes, the help of others. Unfortunately it doesn't seem likely. Even now when Sun is clearly suffering he still chose not to talk about his own feelings but focused on Moon. Even when he's hurting so much that Monty and Foxy found Sun crouching outside Monty's house. Yet he didn't say anything. And what they did to help him? They told him that he needs to make a decision that he isn't capable to make in the state he is right now.

But what about Earth and Lunar? Like I said Lunar will have a much more concerning problem soon enough. And when Sun will find out about Earth's secret.. I doubt he'll trust her to talk about his own issues. You may say that he can change his mind about Eclipse. Maybe normally he could but not now. Not when he's reliving his trauma and his mental state is threatening to worsen. Sun isn't in any condition to deal with his own issues with Eclipse unless Eclipse will surprisingly not insult Sun and will be able to convince him that he wants to help. But Sun isn't in the right state of mind to deal with it, to rethink everything between the two of them and try to forget about trauma Eclipse caused him and his family.

And when Sun will learn the truth about Dazzle.. I wouldn't be surprised if it'll be a final straw for him.

So what else left? How can break the cycle? The answer is he can't. He could with a help of his family but it really seems not to be an option.

Though there's one thing that will stop the cycle of trauma once and for all. And it's death. You may say that Sun already tried to do that. Yes but also no. Back then Sun thought that he'll be lucky if he get reset and if not he'll at least sacrifice himself to protect his family.

But what about now? There's a plan to put Sun in dangerous situation that will cause Sun harm in order to snap Moon out of the state he's in. But if it won't work Moon will kill Bloodmoon and then I doubt that he'll stop at that. And then what?

This plan is messed up because no one can be sure if it'll work and there are very high chances that Moon's mental state will worsen either way. I bet that Sun will try to help no matter what.

Edit: I forgot to mention that Foxy wanted Sun to decide when he'll say enough is enough and he let them kill Moon which isn't an option for Sun - imagine keep going with this in mind that the life of your brother depends on your decision.

But when things will get worse will he be able to keep going? After all he wasn't able to help anyone, to stop anyone, to comfort anyone.. he tried everything yet things only got worse. And because of Sun's mental issues I'm pretty sure that he'll blame himself for everything. So even if Sun will still have Earth and Lunar (maybe).. can he be sure that his decisions won't end up harming the rest of his family?

I wouldn't be surprised if Sun will consider taking his own life as an answer to how stop this madness. If he thinks that all of this is his fault and he even expressed that himself that he was wondering if it'd be better if Moon and him never separated.. and even if Sun went to dimension where they separated but Eclipse never happened and they seem to have happy lives. That Moon didn't help Sun that much and even if he said that deep down Moon still cares.. now Sun learned that it isn't true. Sun can't handle this anymore.

Sun's mental state seems to be not good but considering what is about to happen it'll only get worse. I doubt that Sun will be able to think it through and stop himself from doing it while everything around him is collapsing and he thinks that it's all because of him..

I won't say that he'll succeed because there's high chance that someone will stop him or even if he'll attempt it he may end up heavily injured or in a coma and not dead dead.

But seeing how showrunners keep making things harder and worse for Sun and knowing that Davis wanted to include topic of suicide but previously received backlash for that though it seems that the issue either got resolved or they decided to implement it anyway it seems highly likely that Sun may try to kill himself.

I'm not saying that he'll do that but this is just my hypothesis based on the analysis of events in the show and meta analysis of Sun's character and that his character represents a story of traumatised victim of abuse. I'd rather have them addressing it even if it'd mean that Sun will attempt suicide then them completely ignoring it showing viewers that "screw victims of abuse".

We may argue about whether VAs are doing good job with portraying this things in the show but I don't want to immediately say that there's no hope and that they just don't care about the fact that they made Sun to be a victim of abuse.

I'm trying to be positive about this and I hope that Sun's trauma eventually will be addressed. I'm trying to trust the process. Maybe I'm a fool for doing so but whatever. I don't care about it.

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cuppajj · 2 days

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Don't mind me as I found out this AU a day ago and heard you're waiting for BY ep 4 to form stuff w Dark Choco and Frigid Cacao and BOY do I have ideas.

(This is going to be a long ask, it's been cooking for a while and I need to ramble abt it, hopefully Tumblr won't eat it. Also a little spoilers about ep 13 & 14 and odyssey ch 1 if you're not there yet)

So, we're not talking about Dark Choco's perspective just yet (I'm also waiting on BY ep 4 for that) but from Cacao, we can establish stuff about how he feels about Choco in canon and go from there and speculations on BY ep 4.

Canon Cacao very clearly loves his son and truly longs for him back in his life. But, as referenced from the Hollyberry interaction, he's very reluctant to seek him out, preferring Choco approach him first instead.

One of the ways Cacao shows his love is how he respects the boundaries of those close to him (and, in turn, expects the same for them to him. That's why he violently snaps at Clotted Cream and feels very betrayed by Vanilla for keeping Lily a secret in Odyssey) and I feel this applies to Choco the most. He understands Choco needs his time and space, especially after the whole ep 14, and won't feel comfortable around him or his kingdom for a while. There's also the chance that Choco may not want to have him in his life again (untrue) and he'd rather not risk finding out that's true by personally seeking him out and further upsetting his son. (That last one was just my interpretation but AUGH)

This is the building blocks I found for forming Frigid Cacao's side of the relationship. Should Dark Choco return to the kingdom, Frigid Cacao would feel Very Much Conflicted™️ about having him back, but for different reasons.

On one hand, he would be relieved and overjoyed to sense his son's return. There's so much lost time, so much regrets, he wanted to make up for it and rebuild his relationship anew. But on the other hand, this clashes with the Soltitude he built for himself. Accepting his son back in his life would mean breaking down his walls, thus tearing down everything he built and betraying his own light. Perhaps that part of him would also be angry that Dark Choco would impose this on him. But it saddens him to turn him away. And so on and so forth it cycles.

This duality is the internal conflict that, while it opens the gate for redemption (or at least loosen his terror and maybe actually get him outside), is also very hectic for Choco himself because it also manifests in his powers.

The licorice monsters are noticably more docile around him, but they can just as soon lash out randomly, coming in big waves and heading for only one target. The weather is constantly shifting from mild snow to freezing blizzards in minutes. The paths feel cleared out but it feels like there's always something out to get him.

That's assuming Choco didn't return to the kingdom after the Beast Yeast expedition (bc I'm assuming you're setting Cacao's fall after BY ep 4). But if he did, there's two possibilities. One is the more boring Frigid Cacao's reign didn't last really long bc Choco was there from the beginning. The other one, ooh the other one also works as a bad ending for the first scenario.

(I ended up writing a full oneshot for it. If you want, I can send it in another ask, hahaha)

As someone who hasn’t gotten to that chapter in odyssey yet (i really oughtta watch a video on it bc these quills brake for nobody), this is a really good reference for Cacao and Choco in beast ancients!! I won’t say much about Choco since yeah I’m waiting for apathy pt 2 but I’ve definitely been wanting him to be a huge source of conflict for frigid cacao in the au, and this helps describe it pretty well. Cacao’s fall is being worked on because the timeline of beast ancients is a WIP, it does come after BY 4 for all I know atm, and whatever happens to Choco in that episode will determine where he is and how he affects his dad when he becomes a beast. But the bottom line is that it is not gonna be easy for either of them either way :D

Would love to see your one shot btw!

#beast ancients au #frigid cacao cookie

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the-real-sasuke-uchiha · 2 days

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Not sure if you have done this before, but thoughts on Itachi?

Hi there! Uf, tough question with a lot of chances of bringing us hate, but, let's be brave! As a very obvious disclaimer, please bear in mind that you can love a character and still justify none of its actions. And that trying to understand what led someone to do something is by no means equal to trying to justify them.

Itachi committed a monstrous action exterminating his clan, there is no denying that. Still, I refuse to dump all the blame on him because he was used as a mere tool to fulfil the genocidal plans of Konoha's oligarchy. This issue was extensively discussed before in way more eloquent ways than I ever could so, I will just point out that Itachi was a traumatized child, educated in violence, trained for violence and encouraged to master his talent for violence by literally everyone in his life. Violence was his only tool, the only thing he was good at, and the only means to solve problems in the world he lived in.

He was given an impossible choice and he had to decide quickly and under duress. He was gifted, but still a child, and thus immature. He had obviously no capacity or possibility to solve such a conflict. He was given a choice of killing his clan quietly or risking a catastrophe that would lead to his brother's death (or, rather, he was straight out threatened with the assassination of his little brother by the village's leadership). Now, I of course believe such things were nonsense and that the uprising of the Uchiha didn't necessarily have to lead to a war. And, even if it did, there were plenty other means to avoid it. I also would have taken my brother with me and run, let hell unleash or whatever, before harming a single member of my family. But I am not a manipulated child soldier growing under a military regime that has traumatized me with war and brainwashed me since birth, so, what do I know.

I think I also take issue with Itachi being solely and mainly blamed for the massacre, because it personalizes in him an oppression that was systemic. The leadership of Konoha was determined to exterminate the Uchiha and had been establishing the bases for a genocide for at least two generations. The Uchiha had been racially profiled, discriminated, denied of civil rights, physically segregated, kept under surveillance, relegated to a specific job, and pseudoscientific theories had been formulated to justify their inadequacy for leadership as an excuse to exclude them from political decisions and important roles in the village they co-founded. Tobirama's political heirs in the council happily proposed a genocide with petty opposition form the highest political authority, with the sole excuse of keeping all power to themselves. Using Itachi, a member of the oppressed group, to do the dirty job for them, is just an additional level of atrocity. Having Itachi embody all the evilness is, I believe, a misinterpretation of the whole issue here and also kind of victim blaming.

In this line, I would like to point out something that I believe is important: Itachi won nothing from the massacre. He obtained no privilege, no reward at al. He remained excluded and powerless, he took all the blame and all the bad consequences, suffered an illness in silence and with no help from Konoha, and died as a villain getting nothing in return but hope that his brother would survive the vultures that would be forever after him. While the orchestrators of the genocide kept their power and privileges and took no damage, and even got to have the sole survivors of the Uchiha serving them like loyal pawns. I think it is easy to figure out who is really to blame and who is just an alienated useful tool.

Having said that, I don't think he was retconed, but, as a criticism for the creators, I believe they overdid his evil phase a bit. There is little justification for the torture he inflicted on Kakashi (I am not too sorry for him, I just think that 5 minutes of genjutsu torture would have been enough for Itachi to maintain his bad guy cover, he didn't need 72 hours unless he had a true personal reason for punishing him) or for torturing his little brother twice (I can see he wanted to make sure he was hated, but there were other ways, he certainly went too far). No wonder some fans believe he was retconed taking these things into account. I can only interpret that, after all the violence he went through, Itachi was sort of desensitized to it. Still, he left his brother, the person he loved most in the world, severely incapacitated (only Tsunade was able to heal him, and Itachi couldn't have foreseen that she would go back to Konoha. Had he not enough experience with Tsukuyomi and severely underestimated its consequences?). There is little explanation for this.

Now, what I find really curious and disappointing here, is that the narrative could never allow Itachi to acknowledge that the Uchiha were right or, at least, that the genocide was unjustifiable. But he is a good guy so, of course he has to show remorse. So, he is certainly suffering from what he did, he loved his family and feels extremely remorseful. But, for being so clever, he regrets absurd things. "I tried to do everything alone", well, Itachi, you were alone and that was not your fault. Is not like you could summon your anbu colleagues and propose a poll to decide what you should do with Danzo's orders. "I was arrogant", like, when did that happen? "I treated you like a child", well, because, he was a child? "I should have involved you, you could have changed the Uchiha" really? involve a 7 year old child? sure he would have been able to convince his family to just endure, why not. All so he wouldn't say the quiet part out loud. Konoha was a genocidal regime and the sole wrong thing here was annihilating the Uchiha, which he did because he was given no choice and, as a child, he was incapable of finding another way. That was probably asking too much of this story, where the military dictators are basically the good guys and their moral is sacrificing their family for the state.

Another funny thing I would like to mention is how Itachi talks about the Uchiha in the edo tensei arc. I talked about this before, but it is as if he was fed and believed all possible nonsensical Uchiha-hating stories:

I understand the message we are trying to convey here. The Uchiha were power-thirsty mean people, see, the genocide was justified. But it doesn't make sense. Assuming every person has two sharingans (Danzo and his sick experiments aside), there is zero possibility for that "endless reworkings" situation. Also, the Uchiha needed a jutsu to keep themselves humble and honorable, because the izanagi was so dishonorable (we only saw it used once in a repetitive, sick way in canon, and it was by Danzo, but whatever). As if the Uchiha are the ones that need to keep their humbleness in check because they have tendencies to do megalomaniac things like hoarding power, accumulating and trading with mass destruction weapons, carving their faces in stone, or commissioning crazy big statues to commemorate their victorious fights. Even when stating that the Uchiha created a jutsu themselves to solve a problem they had among themselves and that never threatened any outsider, they are presented as some irrational, greedy people.

So, in conclusion, Itachi could have been wrong and biased, but he very clearly did not want to be the execution hand of a genocide, he did not hate his clan and he deeply loved his family. But sadly, we have to admit, he was strongly manipulated by Konoha's nationalistic bullshit and died twice with intact and convinced loyalty for Konoha. There is no denying that. However, I take issue when he is framed as a soulless Konoha bootlicker, because he was ready to leak any information he had on Konoha should they do anything to Sasuke, ready to help enemy nations and unleash the war and bloodshed he was trying to avoid with the massacre. He was canonically doing everything to ensure Sasuke's safety, not for Konoha.

In summary, for me, Itachi is a complex character whose contradictions are left unresolved in the narrative because the deranged moral of the story is, sadly, that there are circumstances where a genocide can be justified. And still, I can't help but love this character, mostly because Sasuke loves him so greatly. And Itachi was ready to give up everything for Sasuke, even Konoha and the whole ninja world. I like to believe that this is evidence that the "will of fire" cult didn't win completely with him, and that, ever after betraying his clan, he still kept some of that unfathomable and unconditional love for his family that Konoha could not tolerate in the Uchiha.

#ask #spookyphilosophertaco #anti Konoha #pro Itachi #anti Itachi #yeah I am not sure what it is #so I want to avoid haters from both sides #long post #sorry

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thoughtsonlou · 2 days

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I just got back to my hotel after the Away From Home Festival and I needed to document my thoughts! This is the third festival in a row that I have attended and so far, this was my personal best experience. In Spain, I had planned poorly and ended up feeling dehydrated and sick, Italy was a travel nightmare (and the worst merch stand experience I have ever had), but Mexico was organized so well. Starting off, I actually got my bracelet this time (unlike Italy where most of them got thrown in the trash??). The merch line was short and efficient (I got a beautiful t-shirt—Louis’ merch never misses). The entire area was lively with colorful food stands, banners, lights, a giant AFHF sign in front of some stone. There was plenty of space, but it still felt like there were a lot of people there. The atmosphere was so chill, I loved it. Surprisingly, I never felt hot, the sun went down quickly and there was a gusty breeze most of the night.

Now for the music…

I completely missed Rodrigo Leal. I could hear Gibby while I went through the line outside (and I saw him later getting photos with fans). I thought he sounded great. I listen to some of his songs sometimes. Reverend and the Makers were better than I thought they would be. The lead singer fumbling with the Mexican flag was a bit comical, but they sounded tight as a group. Honestly, Dylan was kind of my favorite (of the openers). I didn’t really vibe with her music before the concert, but she was great on stage, and I respect that she cut all the Harry stuff. She added a rock edge to her more pop-y songs, and it changed them for the better. I don’t know she was just so charismatic on stage I dug it. Kevin Kaarl was clearly adored by the audience. Unfortunately, I don’t speak a word of Spanish, so I did not understand anything (and may have taken a bit of a snooze on the ground during his set). However, that is not to say I thought he was bad, quite the opposite. It was a nice change of pace, and his voice was moving. I love the DMA’s and were stoked that they were performing this year. They did not disappoint. I was a little distracted because Oli was like fifteen feet away from me singing along and dancing it was really cute 😊. It was so cool to have such a big band there at Louis’ festival. Ooooh the lineup was certainly my favorite of all the AFHFs I have been to so far. Spain is a close second, but I truly loved every act here, and in the case of Dylan, found her way more compelling in person.

Now for Louis…

He is pretty isn’t he. I can’t believe he essentially wore the poster as his outfit. His hair was perfect, and his skin glistening.

My top five songs from the night (in order of the setlist) were: MEGAMIX—All this time is the perfect song argue with the wall, and the live album made me appreciate the intro and transition between att and sibwawc even more than before, I though all of those sounds were prerecorded track, but I saw Steve messing with one of those sound board thingies in real time… neat! WALLS—this song just makes me emotional, especially when the crowd is so into it like they were tonight. BACK TO YOU—as much as I love a sappy moment, a festival set should be energetic and fun, and that’s what back to you is, she had me jumpin’. SATURDAYS—I admire that he has the confidence to sing alone at the microphone with hardly any backing instrumental for that long, it is so pretty, but when that build up pays off it is soooo good, the wall of sound was really taking the pain away on this Saturday. SILVER TONGUES—trust I meant it when I said, ‘I don’t feel like going home,’ what a jovial song I’m smiling just thinking about it, this song fills me with warmth!!

The instrumental outro is sick, and I can never remember what it sounds like, so that was fun to hear. I was trying not to be a grouch about the 1d songs, but why is night changes there for real? If he replaced it with We Made It, or HEADLINE?!?!?! this would be a darn good setlist. Drag me down is actually pretty good in my opinion. Where do Broken Hearts Go is fine live, but I dislike it in principle (if you’re going to sing a 1d cover, at least pick one you wrote on?).

The worst part of the night was when Chris walked right in front of me during night changes.

The best part of the night was going balls to the walls during Silver Tongues.

Truly the night (especially Louis’ set) flew by! I had a great time and cannot wait to see what is in store for next year :)

#faith in the future #afhf 2024

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oatmealaddiction · 2 months

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Okay but the weirdest thing about the whole "Brotherhood is better you should skip 03" discourse that's become commonplace now, it sort of forgets the world Brotherhood came out in and why you should watch the original Fullmetal Alchemist. When Brotherhood came out, the original Fullmetal Alchemist was one of the most beloved and most watched animes of all time. Brotherhood assumes you the audience have already seen it because of course you have, everyone has seen it, so it skips important information and speeds the story up because it doesn't want to bore you with things you already know. Have you ever wondered "hey why does the first episode of Brotherhood kind of suck, and why am I being introduced to like 50 new characters, and why are they acting like I know what the hell an alchemist is?" It's because Brotherhood thinks you've seen 03.

The first 7 or so episodes of Brotherhood constitute dozens of chapters in the manga, and the first 25 or so episodes of the original Fullmetal Alchemist. The Nina Tucker episode in Brotherhood, in FMA 03 takes up nearly three episodes. Yoki gets a backstory in 03 and it's genuinely one of the best episodes and taken directly from the manga and Brotherhood glosses over it because: duh, you've already seen it. And so if you skip the original you miss out on dozens of really great character building episodes like Ed and Al meeting Hughes for the first time and getting to spend a whole episode helping him free a train from terrorists, or Ed and Roy having a duel that expands on the relationship they have, or episodes where the brothers just help out random people in towns before the major story gets going.

The original also paces itself quite a bit better than Brotherhood and is more in line with the mangas storytelling. In the manga we don't find out about The Gate until nearly two dozen chapters in, and the same goes for the original anime. Like, that's a twist reveal in those stories, and it's weird that the most watched series is the one where they tell you all about The Gate in the first two episodes because they assume you've already seen the original show.

What's more, people don't know that Hiromu Arakawa helped write for the anime while she was still in the middle of writing the manga, and as a result was inspired to write scenes in Brotherhood that the anime did first. That scene of Edward getting impaled by a falling beam? Directly inspired by a similar scene in the original anime. There's a lot of little instances of that and they're great when you can recognize parallels and things in Brotherhood that are direct references to the original anime, but people don't notice any of that anymore. Because the original anime is just an automatic skip these days, and it's a bummer because people don't realize what a giant it was back before Brotherhood was released. They treat it as *bad,* not realizing it was one of the most beloved anime of its time and the problems people take issue with have a lot more to do with personal taste than any kind of actual flaw in the writing. Brotherhood was never meant to dethrone it, and the original anime was always supposed to be part of the viewing experience which is why those first few episodes of Brotherhood are so fast paced. So like, please stop telling people Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 is a skip, or it's bad, or you don't need it because Brotherhood is better. Regardless if you think Brotherhood is better or not, the original wrote Brotherhood's check. It was huge, it was beloved, and Brotherhood is *banking* on the knowledge you've seen all of it and loved it. And trust me when I say there is so much to love about the original series. It's still my favorite branch of the FMA franchise, and it's worth your time, I promise you.

#Fma 03 #FMA #fullmetal alchemist #Fma:b #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma brotherhood #Legitimately though the original is so fucking good #The music alone makes it worth the watch #Also the art direction is better fight me #mild spoilers

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inkskinned · 6 months

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i think a lot about exactly 1 thing from the roman empire: the concept of bread and circus. the idea was that if your population was fed and entertained, they wouldn't revolt. you are asking us to give up our one small life, is the thing - for under 15 dollars an hour.

what would that buy, even. i am trading weekends and late nights and my back health. i am trading slow mornings and long walks and cortisol levels. i am trading sleep and silence and peace. for ... this. for what barely-covers-rent.

life really is more expensive right now. you aren't making that up. i make almost 3 times what i did 5 years ago, and despite an incredibly equal series of bills - i am still struggling. the most expensive line item i added was to own a dog. the money is just evaporating.

we were okay with it because it's a cost-benefit analysis. i could handle the customer harassment and standing all day and the manager's constantly changing temperament - i was coming home to hope, and my life planned in a blue envelope. three hours would buy me my dog's food for a month. i can give up three hours for him, for his shiny coat and wide, happy mouth. three days could be a new mattress, if i was thrifty. if i really scrimped and saved, we could maybe afford a trip into the city.

recently i cried in the car about the price of groceries.

business majors will be mad at me, but my most inflammatory opinion is that people should never be valued at the same place as products. your staff should not be a series of numbers in an excel sheet that you can just "replace" whenever you need something at that moment. your staff should be people, end of sentence.

it feels like someone somewhere is playing a very bad video game. like my life is a toy. like someone opened an app on their phone and hired me in diner dash ultra. they don't need to pay me well or treat me alright - they can always just show me the door. there is always someone more desperate, always someone more willing.

but i go to work and know i could save for years and not afford housing. i am never going to own my own home, most likely. i have no idea how to afford her ring, much less the wedding. my dog doesn't have his own yard. everything i love is on subscription. if i lose my job, i have no "nest egg" to catch my falling.

this thin life - they want me to give up summer for it. to open my mouth and throat and swallow the horrible hours and counted keystrokes. they want me to give up mountains and any non-federal holiday. to give up snow days. to give up talking to my mom whenever i want. to give up visiting the ocean and hearing the waves.

bread and circus worked for a while, actually. it was the kind of plan that would probably now be denounced by republicans as socialist commie liberal pronoun bullshit.

but sometimes i wonder if we should point them to the part of the history book that says: it worked until it didn't.

#spilled ink #warm up #writeblr #i have a good job please shut the fuck up before telling me to get a better job #girl i have vision and dental.#if u blame the victim that's wild. do u know about economic systems

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 8 months

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Can you do headcanons for a young child reader who constantly follows jax around, loves physical affection, and thinks jax is their 'dad'?

(Obviously this request is plantonic, not romantic!)

I think I might've went a little overboard with this one! Way longer than most of my posts but I guess that isn't really a bad thing ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Jax unwillingly becomeing a parent

★ His first and only question was how the hell did a four year old get in this situation. The headset should have been way out of reach for you. Questions that will never be answered, I guess.

★ After making you cry the first time he spoke to you he tried to steer clear of you. That worked out horribly because you seemed to want to always be near him. Much to everyone's confusion.

★ "oh my! Looks like the little one has taken an interest in you!" Was Cain's response to seeing you huddled up near Jax. At some point he gets a child harness to keep you in his line of sight. It's just easier this way.

★ By the way he didn't mean to make you cry, he just didn't know how young you were and said something he would've said to an adult. Kids cry easily, what are you gonna do?

★ Jax stole a few pillows from Kinger for you to sleep with. Yes, you don't technically need to sleep but he's not going to tell you that. Nap time is one of the only times he can get a moment to himself.

★ He gets beyond pissed when you get woken up during nap time. To the point where he's barely keeping it together and wants to beat whoever woke you up with a chair leg.

★ If you want to be picked up, then he's picking you up. It doesn't matter if he's talking to somebody or doing something. You'll get picked up while he's doing something and without missing a beat he'll continue like nothing happened.

★ Instead of giving you the usual Jax treatment, he just tells you the most outlandish lies while trying to convince you that they are true. Sometimes he tells you something that sounds so true you don't question his bullshit.

There's a list of things he's told you!

If you push down on Ragatha's nose it will make a honking noise.

There's a secret room hidden in a closet filled with veggies for people who are allergic to meat.

Birds aren't real.

When he was your age, he was a year older. (It took you a moment to figure that one out)

Caine is the tooth fairy.

★ Jax isn't known for his empathy, but he does feel conflicted when you talk about small details from your life before meeting him. What color your house was, the lullabies your mother sang and the books you used to be read. It all makes him think.

★ You're family might be looking for you, not knowing where you are and that you're trapped. Do you even realize this? They probably think you're dead, that something terrible happened to you. Those thoughts make his stomach sink.

★ If he cares about you this much he can only imagine the grief your family feels. You will forever be a blissfully ignorant child not knowing the truth of what's really going on.

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus fandom #the amazing digital circus x reader #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc #tadc x reader #tadc jax #tadc headcanon #tadc fanfiction #jax #jax x reader #jax fanfiction #digital circus jax

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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month

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do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him.

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye.

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign.

You look at it.

And then you set your phone down.

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness.

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside.

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes.

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment.

He looks good. Almost too good.

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek.

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head.

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him.

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully.

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.”

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek.

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best.

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body.

You cover his hand with your own.

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion.

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies.

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks.

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense.

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this.

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy.

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel.

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm.

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him.

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you.

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly.

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds.

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no.

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful.

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly.

“Yes, please.”

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting.

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine.

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for.

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings.

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present.

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing.

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster.

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem.

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest.

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place.

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand.

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair.

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful.

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again.

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you.

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame.

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you.

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin.

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential.

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands.

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind.

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK.

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake.

He knows.

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity.

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like.

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before.

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it?

Maybe you have it all wrong.

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you.

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick.

24 hours go by.

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up.

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure.

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off.

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking.

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed.

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone.

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said.

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room.

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while.

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs.

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones.

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble.

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no.

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly.

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence.

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans.

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure. After a pause, he sighs in defeat.

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown.

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless.

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up.

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones. It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic.

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand.

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket.

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter.

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges.

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it.

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer.

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing.

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?”

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you.

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?”

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that.

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before.

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft.

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest.

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows.

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts.

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning.

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration.

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous.

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them.

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit.

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice.

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making.

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now.

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that.

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers.

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute.

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base.

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut.

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock.

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.”

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk.

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment.

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry.

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!”

He knows.

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist.

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding.

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease.

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more.

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone.

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide.

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else.

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you.

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here.

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength.

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?”

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous.

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue.

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared.

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out.

“You regret your first time?”

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does.

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash.

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins.

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same.

You want to scream bloody murder.

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse.

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence.

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back.

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me.

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later.

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help.

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does.

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound.

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more.

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right.

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here.

“Goodnight.”

part five

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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riseatlantisss · 9 months

Text

The end we start from

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3

Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.

TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood

A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.

Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.

Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.

You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.

“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”

You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”

“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”

You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.

“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.

“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.

“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”

Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.

“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”

His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.

“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.

“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.

Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.

He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.

But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.

Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.

He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.

You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.

“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.

He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.

You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.

Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.

Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.

Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.

“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”

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ifwebefriends · 2 months

Text

My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]

ID in ALT

More thoughts under the cut

So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.

This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.

Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:

The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.

When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.

So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.

I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.

The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.

I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.

I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.

So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.

I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.

On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.

So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!

#Bluey #bluey the sign #meme #Bluey heeler #rad heeler #bandit heeler #chilli heeler #baby race #my ramblings #my rambles #frisky heeler #brandy cattle #spoilers #bluey the sign spoilers #bluey spoilers

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griffonsgrove · 5 months

Note

Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD

General Dating Headcanons | Vox

a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

wordcount: 1299

cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.

(PLATONIC):

Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.

However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.

When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday.

You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??

You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.

You didn't care too much for the latter.

This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s.

You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.

You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.

One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??

He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.

He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.

He def goes through your search history.

He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.

You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.

OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.

You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.

But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.

(ROMANTIC):

Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.

Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.

That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.

Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.

He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.

Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.

CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.

Insecure much?

Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.

Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.

You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.

You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked.

Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.

Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.

Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?

He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.

He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.

He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.

He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.

And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.

If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)

The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.

#hazbinhotel #hazbinhotelxreader #xreader #gender neutral reader #vox x reader #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin x reader #headcanons #dating headcanons #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin

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ramonathinks · 2 months

Text

ALL HE WANTS — EREN x BLK!READER

tags: 18+ (no minors/no blank blogs — you will be blocked), shotgunning, sex, kinda friends to lovers, established relationship (towards the end), oral (f!), making out, sexual tension, eren has a tongue piercing and dimples, fingering, dirty talk, reader is black, mutual pining, dry humping, unprotected sex, dubcon (both a little buzzed on weed),

notes: this is a repost ofc but... i wasn't about to miss daddy's birthday lolll. (1)(2) “continue reading” divider by @/anitalenia 4.1k words ! + repost!

“When you gonna stop playing and let me be your man, baby?” Eren had his hands in his pockets and lent up against the wall, staring you down. The way he talked always made your body shiver, the way he looked deep into your eyes made you want to moan.

“Just gimme the weed, please.” You rolled your eyes at him. He was always like this — teasing you whenever he saw you all dolled up; tonight you wore a short peach colored dress that made your chest look even bigger, and his eyes kept glancing down constantly from your lips to your chest.

He probably kept looking at your lips because of how plump and bright they were decorated with the clear sticky fruity smelling lipgloss you always wore. Your hair was done in a wavy black hair done in a 32inch half up-half down that framed your face pretty well; and Eren tried to act like he didn’t realize it wasn’t the hairstyle he picked for you a while back.

Unintentionally he licked his lips before digging through his pockets for what he came over to deliver. Normally he didn’t hand deliver anything, he made people come to him, but this was you.

Sweet smelling you who always looked as good as you smelt and right now there was an aroma around you that smelled of nothing but strawberries and some other fruity smell that he couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t even just the fact that you smelled so good but rather the way you looked so good too, always with your hair done even your nails — long coffin shaped, pink and white acrylic with little designs on them — and your face, bare or not your skin was always glistening rich brown.

He was always losing his focus when you were in the room. He handed you your weed and turned to leave. “Wait, here—”

He scoffed, “On the house.” He waved you off, he did this all the time, no matter how many times you begged him to just take the money.

“Eren!” Using his long legs to stroll out of the hallway and towards the apartment complex’s door. He almost made it out before he felt you tug at his arm, a deep pout on your face.

“You’ll get wrinkles. Don’t…” He caressed the area between your eyebrows and trailed down to your jaw — taking it in his hands and squeezing it, making your pout deeper before he let it go.

“Just here, okay? I’m grateful you don’t make me pay since we’re friends,” That definitely wasn’t the reason, but he didn’t say anything. “But just take it. I can pay, you know I can.” Your eyelids fluttered innocently.

He sniffled, “Fine. Fine. Just this once.” He flicked your nose. Then Eren looked at you, truly looked at you and smiled a bit. You were really too cute. “Are you coming to Connie’s party in a few?”

“Yeah, I was actually just getting ready before you came.” You tell him, finally letting go of his arm.

“And that’s what you’re wearing?” He swallowed, biting his tongue. He sounded so judgmental that your eyes widened before you looked down at yourself.

It was cold yes but you always chose being cute over being cold, plus you were always being driven around so you weren’t even outside enough to feel the freezing cold air and it was only a small bit of occasional snow, nothing too bad.

“What’s wrong with it?” You craned your neck a bit to see your backside. Everything was in tact and in place.

Jealousy was already deep in his chest and tugging at his heart, making everything feel so tight around him. He just shook his head, “Nothing, just thinkin’ bout how cold it is, that’s all. But I know you already have a ride lined up, right?”

Playfully rolling your eyes you smirk, “Actually…” Twiddling with your fingers, he watches you already knowing where this was going. “I was hoping, you’d take me if you had a chance? Maybe?”

“Do I ever say no to you?” He asked, walking back down the hall with you towards your apartment again.

This wasn’t his first time inside of your apartment. But for some reason he couldn’t help but to be in awe. You lived in luxury — marble countertops, a wide double door silver fridge, a patio… he knew he couldn’t compare to the lifestyle your father already had you in.

He wish he could... but he couldn’t. He made enough on selling whatever he could but it was only enough for him, not a lifestyle like yours. He wouldn’t be able to provide for you like you needed. Even if he got a real good job, nothing could truly live up to your norm and he would hate for you to settle.

It was the reason that he never truly could actively pursue you like he wanted with a good conscience. How could he pursue you when you had everything you wanted and then some?

Even the fuzzy pink rug on your floor looked like it was worth a couple thousand. A glossy painting of you hung in the center of your living room and it caught his eye, the last time he was inside it wasn’t there.

“Isn’t it nice? Looks almost as cute as the real thing, Hm?” You teasing, putting a finger to your cheek.

He gave you a side eye with a smile so deep enough that you could see his dimple and it made your heart flutter.

You always thought he was cute just not boyfriend material. You weren’t even being judgmental but you heard about Eren long before you had met him. Just a boy who always wanted to get his dick wet and especially when he had pretty clients, you couldn’t take him serious. Even if you wanted to.

When he wasn’t being a flirt, he was a good friend, always came when you needed him, even if it was just for a ride. He was always so sweet and treated you better than any of your boyfriends.

“You think I should just settle for some pants instead of this then, huh?” You did a slight twirl. You could tell he really liked what you had on but just not today. Not where y’all was headed.

He clicked his teeth with his tongue, “Uhh…” He looked you over, his gaze lingering on all assets.

His knee was bouncing and he was getting up before he realized. He never been inside of your room, let alone your closet. So this was all new territory to him, yet he felt like he knew where everything was.

He don’t know why he loved seeing you in your pink moon boots but he knew he wanted to see them on you tonight. He peaked over his shoulder, looking at you briefly before looking over your closet again. “Hm,” He held out two different shirts, you chuckled.

“Maybe this one with the hearts to match the boots and then a nice mini skirt… not too short.” He knew how you liked to dress and you gave him a coy smile.

“Ya know what, Yeager? You’re cute.” You kissed his cheek before pushing him out the room to get dressed. You hate to admit you were feeling hot all over, most guys didn’t come into your room for anything but sex and even though you weren’t expecting him to come in and help you decide on something else he did. It was little. But more than you were used to.

Eren on the other hand, was trying not to palm his dick. Touching the soft fabric of your clothes and imagining them on your skin, had him gulping. He paced the living room before he heard small paws running up to him and yelping. A small bundle of golden tan fur ran up to him, scratching and sniffing the area around him.

“Princess!” You yelled, running out to get your little dog. “Sorry Eren, she loves new people. I thought she would stay sleep, but...” You coo and tap the floor so that she comes running. “I’ll put her up and then we can go.” You scoop her up.

He stops you, “Let me meet my baby’s baby.” He ushers her out of your hand and into his own, a deep smile on his face as she licks his fingers.

You ignore what he says and how it makes your stomach flutter, you just cross your arms and watch. “She’s the cutest.” He tells you, staring you down with a hooded gaze. “Let’s get going, ‘kay?”

You nod, heading to put her into a crate so she can sleep until you get back.

He waits for you, even when you lock up your apartment, he opens the car door for you. You don’t know why but you feel like everything’s going to change tonight.

And Eren can feel it too.

------

It isn’t until you’re already there that you realize his hand was on your thigh the entire car ride. His touch leaving a trail of hotness and when he finally parked, your eyes wouldn’t leave your thigh. Was it weird that you were already missing his touch against your skin?

You heard a few people greeting him as he caught up towards the house behind you, he nodded to a few and did a half wave to some others.

“Birthday boy Yeager, finally! Being late to your own party, really man?” Connie greeted him and your body froze.

Eren didn’t mention it was his birthday. Connie didn’t even mention it when he invited you. You frowned and moved closer before squeezing Eren’s side.

A slight yelp, “The fuck was that for?” He asked, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“It’s your birthday and you didn’t tell me? You were selling me weed on your birthday, driving me to your birthday party and didn’t bother to mention it?”

“It…skipped my mind.” He muttered, scratching the back of his head.

“You didn’t tell your girl your birthday?” Connie snickered. “You didn’t want any birthday sex? Mannn—“

Eren lightly jabbed Connie’s arm, “You know we’re just friends.”

But really, who could tell? Whenever you both were together, you both always stood so close together, sometimes even with his hand on your waist. Deep long stares and only focusing on each other.

“Rightttttt.” Connie laughs and waves you and Eren down to the basement. “So while the party’s upstairs… our real party will be right here, just the gang you know…” He explained while you looked over the place.

A comfy basement with a long couch and two loveseats, a few white garden chairs. A bong on the table that sat in the middle and a few bottles of alcohol. “Sooo, where is everyone?” You raised your eyebrows, arms folded against your chest.

Connie thinks for a moment before raising a finger, pulling out his phone and calling someone. “Yeahhh, hello?” You and Eren shared a glance before looking back at Connie. “Fuck, you gotta be kidding me… no, no, it’s fine,” Connie does an awkward smile to you both. “Alright. Yeah. See you soon.” He sighs.

“Fuck, I gotta go. Sasha said she needs me to get her. Then Jean too and… yeah… basically I think all those fuckers need a ride.” He explains. “Please make yourselves comfortable down here or upstairs, whatever. I’ll just be right back.” He jogs up the stairs and closes the door.

You feel awkward just standing so you smooth out a place on the loveseat and sit down.

But of course you weren’t planning on Eren sitting next to you. Cramped up and all in your space, his legs spread wide with almost little room for your legs. You stare at him, “Seriously?”

He does a sly smile, “I can’t sit next to you? You gonna deny me all tonight huh?”

Remembering it was his birthday, you just let him. His arm over your shoulder and pulling you in. “Fine… fine.” You mutter, pulling out some of the weed you brought from him earlier.

“Hey…lemme roll that for you.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, he just does it. The shiny piercing on his tongue showing itself as he licked up the paper.

You squeezed your thighs, just watching him. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket and with a few clicks, he lit your blunt and took one long drag from it, finally handing it to you.

“Thanks…” You brought it to your lips and his eyes burned into yours. You inhaled, smiling as you felt it come over you. You hummed to yourself, your hooded eyes watching him as he watched you.

“How you feelin’?” You heard him ask, your body humming and you leaned closer into his touch. Your head laying on his shoulder.

“Good.” You responded shortly. “Just really good.”

“I’m glad to hear that baby.” His voice sounded closer but you ignored it. You smoked the blunt again and when you went to exhale, he pressed his lips to yours, just a small peck.

Briefly, you would’ve missed it if your eyes weren’t open.

“Been wanting to do that all day.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay…” You swallowed. “You can do it again.”

It was all he needed. His hands grabbed your face gently and he pressed a small peck on your lips. Then again. His hands touch the skin of your thigh when he goes in a bit deeper. No more little kisses, he’s fully kissing you on the lips. “Must be the weed, hm? You’d never let me kiss you…fuck,” He sounds pissed but mainly at himself.

“I took like two puffs, I’m barely…buzzed. I just… I mean why not?” You ask aloud, looking at him. Maybe you were just tired of pretending that you didn’t want him. That you didn’t want this. You were horny and maybe a quick fuck to get him out of your system would be good for the both of you.

“You like playing with my heart huh? You know how I feel and…” He trails off. “You know I like you—“

“You don’t like me, you just wanna fuck me like everyone else.” You had a hard time believing that he had feelings for you, that he wasn’t like any of the others before him. You wave him off but he grabs your wrist.

He clicks his teeth before laughing, “No, no, no…Baby. You’re special to me. Just want you all to myself, always.”

You snort, “Yeah right…” But your body felt so hot and like you’re wearing too many clothes.

“Come sit on my lap pretty girl. Let me show you something.” He pats his lap and grabs your waist, tightly.

“Show me what?” You were curious but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to come back to being just friends if you did what he asked.

“How much I like you.” He lifted you with ease and in an instant, you were on him. You could feel just how big and hard he was under you. You swallowed, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“Well? Show me.” You smile, hotness rolling off the both of you in waves. He smiles before he brings you in and kisses you.

Moaning when he pulls you closer, jerking his hips up to yours. His hands exploring your body and his tongue enters your mouth, swirling around. Slipping his tongue in and out your mouth, sucking on yours. His hands traveling down your back until he gripped your butt, spreading and massaging them in his large palms before sliding them up and down your back.

He kisses the sides of your neck and you take another drag of the blunt, feeling your lungs expand and the sensation of his mouth and hands making you shiver. He grabs your hips and rolls his more into yours, the fabric of his denim jeans hitting your clit.

Breathing heavily you inhale and with shaky hands you pull him forward. Kissing him with the smoke still in your lungs, his cock throbbing in his pants, he’s trying not to be greedy but he wants you. Tracing up and down your shirt, slipping his fingers underneath.

He feels a bit giggly afterwards. With a dopey big grin on his face, “You’re so pretty. Like an angel.” You’re smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt but your pussy is pulsing and you need him.

“Eren… thank you. But I just… need… I need you to…Please just touch me. Please.” His hands roam again. His cock half hard in his pants and his hands on your hips, he makes you roll them against his again. You gape and gasp a bit, feeling how hard he is against your damp dainty panties.

His hands are under your skirt and he massages the bit of your butt and thighs, spreading and patting you. He kisses you full on the lip and sucks more on your tongue before pulling back, “You’re just so pretty.” His forehead is on yours and his eyes are eating you up.

Your clit pulses and throbs the more he rolls your hips against his and the way he’s digging his fingers into the skin of your butt and thighs, you’re groaning and sighing, “This feels so…” you wrap an arm around his neck. “Good.” You whisper in his ear and feel him shiver, you press small kisses up and down his neck. “You’re so hard…” You lick him, small and to the point. “Eren…I—“

“Shhh,” He stops your hips, that were now moving on their own. “Just keep doing what feels natural… what feels right. We can talk about all of this later. But now? Let me make you feel good, yeah? Wouldn’t you like that?”

And it’s the way that he says it, honestly, that makes your heart speed up and your panties even more wet before he slips them to the side.

“Holy shit, already? This wet, baby? Damn…” His fingers sticky just from a quick slip inside, your mouth open and your legs shaking. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” You hear the sweet sounds of him fingering you, the wet noises echoing in the dark room.

“Fuck,” He mutters, flexing his fingers and twisting them inside. You clamp down on him and he bits his lip before kissing you, trying to keep you both quiet.

You lifted his shirt a little, looking at his stomach as he breathes in and out, his stomach muscles flexing. You smile to yourself, helping him out of his shirt before you trail your hand up and down his muscular chest and stomach. A semi thick patch of hair from his stomach and disappears down into his pants catches your attention and with a deep gulp your fingers dance lightly on his stomach until they disappear into his pants.

His breath hitches, “Your hands are so…whew,” His eyes are closed when you touch him, stroking him. “So damn soft. Too damn soft.” His hips jerk up at the contact of your hand against him.

“Has anyone ever—?” He doesn’t say it but licks his lips and sucks at his teeth.

“No, never…” Boys were too interested in sex never foreplay or oral. Some never even looked at your pussy.

He huffed, “Idiots. Want you to sit on my face, okay?” He could feel you twitching and your body freeze up.

“You’re so weird you know that?” You squeeze at his tip and he whined a bit, taking your wrist and taking it out of his pants.

“Hey, been thinking about it forever.” He have, he liked being your friend but he always thought about what’s between your legs. He always felt so guilty for it, this ulterior motive of his.

With your skirt still on, you move to hover over him. He breathes you in and groans out a deep “Fuck.” His tongue soaked in spit but he grabs at your thighs and slurps at your swollen clit. The heavy scent of your aroma wafting around his face.

Your thighs shaking as you rock your hips against him, but he wants to take things slow. Your juices all over his mouth and even a bit on his nose. You hated how greedy you were being. His tongue flicking at your stick clit and sucking on your lips.

“Eren! Faster…faster, please.” The cold metal piercing brushed against your clit and had you seeing stars so clearly that you tugged at his dark hair.

He liked the way his name sounded rolling off your tongue, even the way your mouth looked when you said it. Your lips: a work of art and your voice a song. So to be the one who’s listening and the one giving you this pleasure? He couldn’t help but smile to himself. To revel in it.

He chuckles listening to the soft moans of your pleads and begging, “No need to beg, don’t you know you own me? I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you say.”

His voice made you clench and he pressed small kisses up your slit before stretching you apart, “Think I can see you getting all wet for me…” His tongue dives in and your toes curl as he licks around the insides of you. Sucking at your folds and diving inside of your wetness, he moved one of his hands from your thighs and rubbed with two fingers on your achy clit. You shuddered, biting your lips.

He smiles looking at your pussy, so wet and pretty before he dives back in. Really just wanting to be covered in your scent. He gives a few more sucks, your hips raising and thrashing against his face.

“Baby,” The breath of his deep chuckle hitting your pussy and you shiver. “I’m leaking in my pants. I need you. Badly.”

He took his time but he laid you out on the couch, looking at the amount of your arousal that ran down your legs. He watched your pussy twitch, using his fingers he spread you open, clenching around the cool empty air. “Fuck,” you already looked fucked out and he haven’t even been inside of you yet.

Sliding his thick cock between your wet folds he felt you tremble. Tapping the head against your clit, he felt you jolt and he slowly slid inside of you. Your walls sucking him in and squeezing him tightly.

He groans, almost collapsing on top of you and you dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Wanted you for so long.” He kisses you quick and laced your fingers together, squeezing your hand. “It’s so wet inside of you, feels so fucking good.” Stretching and carving your insides to only fit his shape. Everything sounded underwater as he continued to pound inside of you. “You’re so perfect. So pretty. Fuck.” He angled his hips before thrusting faster inside of you. “So tight, so pretty, so mine.” He purred, licking up your throat and sucking; leaving a trail of hickies in his wake.

“Eren, oh god.” You breathe, worked up. He brings your legs from his waist and bring them closer to your head, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you.

“Think I’m in love withchu…” His thrusts are strong and now your feet dangling over your head, you couldn’t think straight. “But I think you already know that, hm? Think you love having me wrapped about your fingers.” Meeting every thrust he made, you felt a small bit of squirt splash and soak up his cock as he pulled it out before plunging back inside of you.

Your stomach is twisting and your toes curl heavenly as his dick continues, you push at his chest. “Wait! Eren…I…” You feel even more pressure in your gut and clench around him. “Please… no more.”

Your eyes are watery but Eren doesn’t care, instead he uses the pads of all his fingers and do deep aching rubs on your clit. Writing his name in your clit with your fingers, your thighs shake and then you’re finally cumming all over him and with a few more hard thrusts, he follows with a deep groan of your name.

He lays on top of you for a second to catch his breath before kissing you again. “I like you. Always have.” He huffed.

You bite back a smile. “I like you too…” You tell him shyly.

He gets up and hands you your pretty panties with a smug look. “So will you be my girlfriend?”

You chuckle, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend Eren.”

All Eren could think of was that this was his best birthday in a long while. He peppering kisses over your face.

“Alright… birthday boy, put some pants on.” You snicker, looking at his lower half, he was already getting back hard.

“Oh right.” He kissed you again.

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