#actually I think I would lock myself in my room forever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

allmannerofmalady · 12 days ago

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In continuation of my clownery, I started a new DATV playthrough because my beloved Inquisitor looked so jarring I had to remake her and replay like 20 hours of the game. But hey, I made peace with the fact that I am playing DATV to wrap up Inquisition and get an ending scene at this point, I'm not currently foreseeing a second playthrough, so I gotta do it right, y'know?

Spoilers, and me complaining at extreme length, yet again, about my own personal expectations vs reality into the void. Please ignore if DATV negativity is something you prefer to stay away from, protect your peace & what you enjoy.

So I replay HOURS. I'm having fun killing everything as fast as I can - I don't know what it is about playing as a rogue in this game that has tickled my ADHD brain so much, but I'm surprisingly really good at the arrow bonanza and relentless enemy aggro?! This turn based bitch? I digress.

I see my bb Inquisitor Lavellan - she still doesn't look like herself, but I can live with it. She got some ill-advised fillers in Tevinter, she's been through a lot, let her LIVE.

This time around my strategy is pure lore hunting. I'm getting every codex, I'm SQUEEZING this playthrough for whatever lore/easter eggs I can get because idk if I'm going to play again. I got all of Solas' murals early on, got Mythal's essence before Weisshaupt even, I think. BUT WAIT! I have one more treat! The locked room in the Lighthouse! Solas' study! There must be something juicy for all the effort, right? RIGHT? :'D

I know it's been beaten to death, but PERSONALLY, the game still feels incredibly flat to me, jarringly so. If I'm in the Dreadwolf's home, I want to snoop. I want Rook to look through his library, his books, his garbage bin. I even remember the devs saying they wanted being in the Lighthouse to feel an old friends house, or something? I could be wrong, my brain is fried. It's not just a Solas thing - I'm playing this game because I'm desperate for info about the characters I love, but as Rook, we are IN Solas' HQ and I want to rip open the floorboards. I'm trying to RP as much as I can RP in this G.

Anyway, I was so thirsty for something more, something deeper than just these lovely environments I cant do much with, and notes on how Solas hoards raisins - so I collected the wisps and did all the things to unlock the second door in the Lighthouse, forever booboo the fool, thinking I would get some juicy content or something. Trying to stay positive.

No. NO. I got some gear, another empty room Rook has no comments on, and fine, some of Solas' observations on the anchor. It does seem to confirm he kept the Inquisitor’s arm aaaand I love him your honour.

Back to backflipping and shooting arrows in the air, and wanting to grab Emmrich by the beautiful lapels to shake him and ask about the Pentaghast family. Where's my WIFE --

On to the Weisshaupt mission, which was actually ridiculously fun to play - until I was told Weisshaupt is gone haha wow great love that at least the Inquisitor & gang are keeping Southern Thedas safe *subtle foreshadowing* 😃🤞 weeee

I was SO MAD at myself for expecting more like the clown that I am, it was something dumb but just annoyed me all over again and got me all… opinionated 🫠

So, I'm mad again. I cannot begin to articulate my feelings about the incredible amount of storylines and lore we've lost with the decisions made in DATV's writing - they've already been written so eloquently by much greater minds than myself. SO I'm just laughing my way through the pain 🤡

People pleaser that I am, I see other creators I've followed and loved for ages defend the game's choices, tell others they lack media literacy, that your criticisms mean you have rose tinted glasses about the previous games - whatever, your opinion can be valid without tearing others down. So, I genuinely thought something was wrong with me for being so hung up on details. But I can't even engage in fan theories anymore because I'm so jaded at this point. When I see new deep dives into lore-based theories on the game, 99% of the time my mind goes "There is no deeper meaning. They just wanted to wrap it up." Why do you think this thing happened? What do you think that thing is hinting? Nothing. And this is coming from someone who played all the games, owns all the novels, art books, World of Thedas I and II, the bloody Inquisitor lamp from the BioWare store LOL, I was primed and ready to engage in these conversations, but I can't. I have nothing to say that won't end in a cynical answer, and maybe that's because I'm also jaded by working in the game-adjacent VFX industry.

The factions are, yet again, fun but shallow, the logic confusing, and lack much of a backstory for Rook (I think Grey Wardens and Mourn Watchers seem to be the best developed from other reviews and playthroughs, I've only played extensively as a Shadow Dragon, to be fair). Why are you a mage in this one faction? Why are you a rogue in another when it doesn't make sense without a story to support it? It's all this beautiful candy floss that melts away the minute I stop and think about it. And then the cynic in me thinks - these are probably vestiges of the live service part of the game that EA was pushing for. I have to slap myself and stop looking for deeper meaning within corporate decisionsssss there is no swimming pool behind that closed door you needed 7 wisps for 😃

I desperately did not want this to be the case. I was hyped. I preordered the game and organized vacation around it, I'm too old and dealing with way too many crappy personal things to just be a hater for the sake of being a hater. Gaming and Dragon Age are my comfort spaces. But for the LIFE of me, I can't imagine playing DATV again once I finish, let alone more times than I can count like the previous games. Or imagine listening to 4 hours of Youtube videos of party banter to analyze, or even imagine how companions would react to certain things because they feel so stiff. Everything is beautiful, but sterile.

I do love Emmrich - I'm enjoying his storyline and romance, it's like the loveliest most whimsical Vincent Price Pixar romance, but still, something is always missing with the characters even as some do grow on me. I can't imagine anything close to just the party banter ALONE between Solas and Iron Bull. Cole. Fenris and Anders. And to be clear - the whole DA was GRITTY and DARK, DAO supremacy - NOT ME. I love all the games but they have always been whimsical and silly, cringey at times, and did not take themselves seriously. I remember doing the quest where Hawke is running around trying to keep Aveline's date with Donnic from going south, cracking up at how ridiculous it was, and just thinking - gods I LOVE this game.

Speaking of romance, while I'm enjoying how sweet the romance with Emmrich is, when I see others complaining about lack of spice... ahem. I still cannot get over the art style when it comes to characters. This is subjective, and a me problem - I still find it jarring. I don't like the proportions, the bloom, how smooth everyone looks. They still mostly look like cartoons to me, with no body hair and the big heads, and I find everyone's hands so distracting because they look like plasticine. I'm ok with no spice between these characters with their current designs lol let me leave it at that. Ok, except for Felassan and Solas, chef's kiss, no notes.

Solas and story elements directly around him still mostly hold the familiar weight, for the most part. I think credit goes to his amazing VA and the strength of what was likely written for his arc from the very start, before the rewrites and dev hell the game went through. I still have opinions, obviously, but even as a ride or die Solavellan I don't like having the Solavellan angle hijack conversations, so I'm not going to go there. If I'm going to criticize stuff I'll do it as a gamer/DA fan first, egg lover and apologist second.

As I reach the end of Act 2, the game continues to makes me feel like I'm stripped of all agency after a lifetime of playing choice-based games. I talk to companions when it allows me to, then they are relegated to set dressing. My conversation choices all feel the same, or don't match what I'm choosing sometimes. The Lighthouse does not feel like the vibrant hub it was sold as. I am on quests I mostly cannot accept or reject. I cannot interact with my surroundings unless it is gameified (light a candle, move a crystal). The companions abilities are all just - platforming? I know I sound hyperbolic, but it's all I can see currently.

I played Persona 5 from end to end, twice. I played FFXVI. I loved both, had no issues with their linear storytelling, and how the game led you to their end points. Those games are not DA, they did not have the expectations you would have from a BioWare title 10 years in the making. You were not lured in by tales of an incredible character creator, teased about what might be coming from previous games, told this was a sequel to an immersive fantasy RPG series in a beloved fantasy world where the defining studio mechanic was CHOICES MATTER, even when they changed a lot of other things from title to title. In P5/FFXVI you were Clive, you were Joker, you were playing out their story. They were not direct sequels to anything. I'm loathe to be seen as a mindless critic who just wants to shit on things, but a part of me does feel emotionally manipulated for $$$. I still resent how much hype was built for the game by maligning the previous ones (we're fixing Inquisition's mistakes!!).

I'm back to my mission of finishing the game I paid for, enjoy what I can, and get my Solavellan ending scene cause I'm down BAD for literally the only ship I have ever shipped🧍🏻‍♀️I appreciate that it was included. But also - wow does it exacerbate what wasn't included for everyone else's choices.

Something I hate is how everyone immediately jumped on the Baldur's Gate 3 comparisons - BG3 was a life changing game for me, but it's not perfect, and the comparisons are not fair. The one thing I will say is that when I first played BG3, despite its issues and the later criticisms of how Larian reacted to pressure from fans, I remember my earliest impression was - it feels good to be respected as a player. I didn't feel the game was talking down to me, and I got SO much for what I paid for (700 hours baybeee). Jaheira and Minsc were included as companions in homage to the previous games. Yes, they did Viconia dirty, nothing is perfect - but for example, Jaheira would tell you about her husband Khalid from the original games, which came out in 1998 and 2000. There was a lot of world building/easter eggs that not everyone was familiar with or even noticed, because not every player played BG1 and 2, or were familiar with DND 5e - but it was included. Drizzt Do’urden was mentioned ffs, they didn’t overthink about who read those books or not. I’m aware of my biases and I may very well be looking through rose tinted glasses, but I did not feel like the information was presented like I was dumb, or "ah they'll never understand this - SCRAP IT". It just feels like it’s there to honour the past and out of love for the world Larian were playing in.

—> edit to say that I do notice and enjoy the codex entries, callbacks to Tevinter Nights, Masked Empire, the older games. I wish that care and detail was woven into the main story and overall end product and not just background fluff. I know others are satisfied with those additions, wish that were me. I saw a tweet saying that every callback to a previous game or storyline actually pissed them off even more lol, I relate.

I don't feel that respect for the player in DATV, I'm sorry. There is love there, but as hard as I try, it feels like it's there despite of the overall design of the game, not part of it. I keep remembering interviews before the game was released and things that were promised, and I don't see it. At all. No more meaningless fetch quests!! Most companion-focused game! The quests are largely boring or formulaic, but addictive and fun because they are so packed with mindless combat that my brain enjoys. Sometimes it feels like filler - we didn't know what to add here, FIGHT! You unlocked a poignantly named gate in the Crossroads? NO STORY MORE FIGHT! And I'm eating it up, let me not be a hypocrite, I have 80 hours in the game. But personally, it feels designed to pad out this beautiful, sometimes fun, but bitterly shallow game. I can't even go into companion specifics because I have nothing to say, no story I want to analyze. Some have grown on me, but there is no bite or nuance to the writing that compels me and I have no urge to know more. In the previous DA games I would take the long route wherever I went just to get more banter from my companions, and I was instantly interested in them, even if I disliked them. I've seen the comments, I tried, I don't think it's because "I haven't spent enough time" with the DATV companions.

The level design of long narrow corridors, which do remind me of DA2 and FFXVI, has become so predictable to me that I almost always know exactly where I'm going to find loot. So it becomes this admittedly satisfying run of grabbing and fighting to the end point, getting the dopamine hits of collecting pointless stuff, but not really taking in the environments and enjoying the adventure. The level design is not immersive. These do not feel like real cities or real people, and that was intentional. It feels like “levels”, not a World. No one reacts to a single thing you do. Even in the ultra minimalist style of Zelda BOTW, townspeople would react to things you did. Sometimes I walk up to yet another obvious fight arena where the enemies are just chilling, waiting for me while standing still - almost like they're on shift at a haunted house LOL. I can imagine the Venatori stubbing out a cigarette, "C'mon guys, she's here, showtime". The funny part is this has all been seen before in older games, and it never bothered me. My own expectations and overhype might be to blame, but it feels like a big step back when so many games are stepping forward. Me = clown

I keep going back to my first reaction when the disappointment hit me. It feels like being given Persona 5 Strikers or Hyrule Warriors, and told that it's the sequel to the actual RPG. It's fun, it wears the skin of the thing you like that makes you happy, but stops there.

Other things I shake my fist at

Cheap ass The 6th Sense ass Varric death. Yes, yes, Solas villain arc whatever - it was cheap. Way to honour a multi-game beloved character and the player, even if the time had come for him to die in the story.

No, I cannot find a single redeeming reaction from a companion that makes Varric dying make sense in hindsight, except that they are all made of cardboard. I saw comments saying on a second playthrough it's clear Harding is in mourning - sorry, I don't see it.

So. Dorian, the Inquisitor, Charter, Harding, your party, Maevaris, Isabella, list goes on - not a single one of them asks about Varric or mentions his death? Expresses condolences? Nothing? Cheap. Even if Solas was playing with your mind, doesn't it make the overall characters in the game seem even more wooden and unrealistic to the player? It was not the gotcha they seem to think it is.

When the novelty of the cameos and the emotion associated wore off, they were just flat and felt random. Cassandra should have been there, doing Seeker shit (my WIFE). Ok no cameo? Casual dialogue with Emmrich about having a Nevarran in the Inquisition (or as the Divine?!) Lucanis info dumping about Josephine as an Antivan, Zevran as a Crow, nvm, time for a coffee joke. Merrill, eluvian queen, how is she a nonentity? Habibi Fenris should have been in the Shadow Dragons, spitting on the ground after being approached by Solas to join his uprising (lol what uprising amirite). Ok I'm cooking hire me Bioware 🍳 but at least they can remain untainted by the Isabella Treatment (tm)

This leads into the yeeting of the Keep, world states, choices, and hypocrisy around claiming to want to level the playing field for new players. No, all I can see is - it was treated as a buffet that they picked from as it suited. This is the one disappointment I will never let go of. Facsimile's of beloved character cameos were tossed in, you could not really talk to them outside of what limited dialogue you were allowed. Certain world states are now canon apparently - Dorian being recruited in the Inquisition, Morrigan drinking from the Well etc. You want a reboot and you've committed to tossing the choices and burning down Thedas (literally)? Go down with GLORY! Have all the previous main characters/companions alive. Have them all mentioned, even in passing. A portrait on a wall. Say goodbye to them, get your reboot. Honour what you built your business on. But yeah, Emmrich and Harding get to have their picnic in Fereldan fml bye

The argument of: well, the games are old now, it shouldn't matter. Ah - not too old to capitalize on the IP and DA name? Not too old to use some cameos to lure old players? The argument of - it was too many choices to track. Ok cut them down, but don't go scorched earth? 3 choices, mostly irrelevant to those who don't care about Solas (could never be me), and then literally telling you everything else in the South and Weisshaupt is now razed to the ground. But also the illuminati did everything.

FINALLY - the Inquisition should have been in charge of the hunt for Solas, hill I will die on. Fine, have Rook, but Inquisitor should have been the other protagonist. The people... who knew Solas best and betrayed by him... who were in an organization to save the world... Why did we have that cunty dagger stabbed into the map of Tevinter cliffhanger to have the Inquisitor reduced to a pyjama wearing husk BIOWAAAAAAAARE

It's this stuff that builds up, and makes me think - does this game hate its fanbase and source material that much? I very obviously need to go touch some grass 🤠

I keep engaging with Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter - all to my detriment because it makes me feel like there's something wrong with me for not loving it, all over again. I also desperately have a fic in me I would love to write, an ode to the story in my head from years of loving the world of Thedas, a love letter to my Lavellan and others - but idk what to do with the post-DATV world atp. I just want to get through Act 2/3, get my Solavellan smooch, ignore the ~secret Illuminati ending, and be grateful I'm not a Mass Effect fan so I don't have to go through this again 🐣

#bioware critical #dragon age critical #i scream here to function out there #trust me i want to get over it #came to fix solas now he needs to fix me #veilguard critical

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forestdeath1 · 9 months ago

Text

Poet

@prongsfoot-microfic

January 23, 1977

James lies with his eyes closed on the dusty bed in the Shrieking Shack, his nose buried in Sirius's waist. His left hand casually rests on his friend's thigh. Sirius, leaning against the headboard, is flipping through the pages of some yellowed book, faintly illuminated by the dying light of sunset seeping through the cracks of the old windows.

"What's that you're reading?" James mumbles sleepily into his friend's shirt.

"Some muggle poetry. Lily gave it to me," Sirius responds.

"Why does Lily give you books?" James lifts his head slightly.

"Because, unlike you, I'm not a toerag. I can actually talk to her without making a fool of myself, you know?"

"Oh, shut it," James exhales, lightly hitting Sirius's book with his hand before rolling onto his back. "She likes me."

"Of course, she does," Sirius agrees, without looking up from his book. "Everyone does."

"Right," James pretends not to hear the irony in Sirius's voice. Or maybe he genuinely doesn't.

"Muggles can write beautifully, did you know?" Sirius asks a few minutes later.

"Nah," James answers lazily, yawning and stretching. Today he had to get up even earlier than usual – Stone had set a penalty training for their team for "improper conduct on the field."

"Listen to this," Sirius starts reading, sliding his left hand into James's hair.

Sirius twirls a lock of James's hair around his finger while his voice fills the room with the dramas of human lives, clothed in rhymed lines. James looks at the log ceiling, studying the patterns of darkened grooves and scratches, listening.

Sirius has a beautiful voice. He even makes poetry sound interesting. Poetry? Since when did James care about poetry? But with Sirius, even poetry seems fascinating.

Well, it's not like he's genuinely into poetry, but he likes how Sirius reads them – like he's the hero of these stories, not just a bystander. If any of them has a refined soul, it's definitely Sirius, though he'd never admit it.

This boy has a knack for finding the hidden poetry in the prose of life – something James has always lacked. Sirius – a lyrical child of the night. Daunting, dark, and dangerous, but only to those who haven't yet learned to understand it, who haven't seen that he is a reflection of the most dazzling white light.

"Do you like it?" Sirius asks after a while.

"Yeah," James whispers, turning back towards Sirius and pressing his face against his side, slipping his hand under the shirt to rest it on Sirius's chest. "Write me a poem," James looks up, smiling slightly.

Sirius laughs softly and clears his throat dramatically.

"Oh, James the Magnificent, greatest of the great, brightest of the bright..." he begins theatrically, extending his hand in a caricature of a gesture.

"And who's making a fool of themselves now?" James sighs, suppressing a chuckle, and lowers his head back to Sirius's waist. Sirius flicks him on the head in response.

They lie like that for a while. James hears the rustle of turning pages and the howling of the winter wind. He feels the warmth of Sirius's body under his palm. They're always warm, both of them. Moony often jokes that they can use them instead of warming charms for their dorm.

"Actually, I found a poem here," Sirius suddenly says, "just needs a little tweaking..."

"Tell me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, then flips through the pages and stops at the right one. James raises his gaze to him, looking up – Sirius has always dubbed this particular expression as 'the deer look'.

Sirius thoughtfully shifts his gaze from the book to James, smiles with one corner of his mouth, ruffles James's hair, and, returning his grey eyes to the book, quietly says:

"He is my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I think this love will last forever: am I not wrong?"

"What did you change?"

"Just the last line. It's originally about loss. 'I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.' But I like my version better. You?"

"Me too," James lifts himself on his elbows, presses against Sirius's ear, and whispers, "I think this love will last forever," then kisses him, moving lower down his neck and deeper, sliding his hand under the shirt. "You are not wrong."

___

October 31, 1981

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden

#sirius black #james potter #prongsfoot #james and sirius #prongsfoot microfic #the marauders #prongs #padfoot

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agent-leighreid · 11 months ago

Text

BAU TEAM MEMBERS...

...BEING JEALOUS OVER YOU

-Part one of two

-f!reader

-!!TW!! Mentions of rape and murder. Sexual innudenos.

-Y/n (Your name)

-Y/l/n (Your last name)

-Written in Y/n's POV (unless mentioned otherwise)

-Part one of two includes Emily, Hotch and Spencer.

-Part two of two includes, Derek, JJ and Garcia.

EMILY PRENTISS

"Okay Morgan, she's going to a Nightclub tonight, scouting for another victim no doubt..I need you to-"

"Charm? No problem Hotch, it's in my blood." Derek said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

I rolled my eyes, playfully hitting his shoulder. He chuckled, swatting me away, I raised my hand to attempt to 'hit' him again, but before I could continue, Garcia was calling in.

"Go ahead Garcia" Hotch said, putting it on speaker.

"A little birdy told me, that my Morgan is going undercover at a nightclub to flirt with an unsub?" she questioned.

"Don't worry baby, you're still my number one girl.." Derek spoke, smiling.

I glanced up at Emily and saw her smile, radiant as ever. She met my eyes and if I didn't look away, those pools of perfection would've had mine locked in place forever.

"Oh I had no doubt about that!" Garcia's response brought me back into orbit. "But that's not my issue, sugar" she said.

"What is it Garcia?" Hotch asked, growing slightly impatient.

"Our unsub is a lesbian." she stated.

Everyone's eyebrow raised, and through the corner of my eye I saw Emily look up at me.

"That explains her victimology, could be surrogates for an ex, or a girl who never liked her back.." JJ said.

"Or she could be acting out on her internalised homophobia" Reid suggested. "She grew up Catholic right? Recently Catholic churches have reached out to LGBT members to offer support..but that wouldn't have been the case for her growing up, most likely her parents tried to take her to therapy or they might've even tried to exorcise the homosexuality out of her..she's been manipulated into thinking who she is is evil, and wrong when in actuality she was just never accepted." he said. "Murdering these women is a way of killing that part of herself that no one, not even God, had been able to rid her of. She's trying to compensate for her so called “sins”. "

A small wave of silence washed over the room in the police precinct.

"Well, Y/l/n? Prentiss? Which of you is happy to do it?" Hotch asked, as Derek sadly sat back down.

Again, another small wave of silence until I grew confident and spoke up. "I'll do it." I said.

Yes, I was voluntarily putting myself in harms way but..

Number 1, it's my job

And Number 2, I can show Em I'm not just for the gentlemen.

"Are you sure?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah, we gotta catch this bitch right? And plus, I match the victimology better.." I responded, glancing up at the crime scene photos, my stomach sinking slightly.

"Okay, let's get ready" He said, walking off.

I was given a black satin dress, running from my shoulders to just above my knees. It had lace sleeves and was pretty thin. I shivered as I stepped out of the toilet that I changed in, my given high heels clicking along the floor of the precinct as I walked. While I never wore high heels, they weren't that hard to get used to.

(A/n: that's a fucking lie they're the worst shoes to ever be invented. Torture. And for what?)

I entered back into the room that we were set up in, whiteboards with speculations filling up the space and paperwork littering the desks.

I placed the handbag I was also given on one of the desks, putting my gun and badge inside.

A wolf whistle pulled me from my thoughts as the rest of the team walked in. The whistle came from Derek as he walked in smiling, Emily not far behind him, glaring in his direction. The rest of the team followed close behind, and we went over the plan.

Hotch and Morgan would also be in the nightclub watching over me and the unsub, while Emily, JJ, Spencer and Rossi, along with a number of officers from the police station, waited in SUV's outside. Watching through CCTV and listening through shared ear pieces.

The team got ready and walked out to the SUV's, the cold air hitting me like a brick; the dress wasn't exactly the thickest material in the world. I stopped in my tracks and folded my arms, feeling goosebumps.

"Want my jacket, Y/l/n?" Emily asked, coming up behind me, her warm hand placed gently on the small of my back.

My eyes met hers and I had to thank the city lights for hiding the blush that flushed onto my face.

"Oh, are you sure?" I asked, proud of my voice for staying steady.

"Of course! And hey, it goes with the dress.." she said, draping it over my shoulders as she looked me up and down, before entering one of the SUV's.

I had no idea if I fantasised that last part, but by the way Derek smirked at me while he walked past, wiggling his eyebrows as he followed Emily into the SUV, told me that I didn't.

I got into the other SUV, and we drove to the Nightclub.

I walked inside, music blaring in my ears, making them ache slightly. I glanced over the room and walked to the bar after JJ telling me she was there. I spotted her, and slowly approached the bar.

She sat fiddling with the little umberella in her drink.

"Can I just grab a lemonade please?" I asked the bartender.

The unsub watched me from her seat as I turned to face the dance floor, my arms resting on the bar.

"You not a drinker?" She said, initiating conversation.

Play it cool, Y/n.

"Me? Oh..nah." I said, turning in her direction.

The bartender slid me the lemonade.

"Thank you" I said, digging through my handbag for the money.

The unsub layed her hands on mine, stopping me from looking.

"Let me get this for you." she smiled.

I smiled "...oh, thank you" I said, my tone steady.

"It's no problem, why don't you drink?" The unsub asked, leaning toward me a little.

"Oh...my dad was an alcoholic.." I admitted to her, sheepishly looking down at my lemonade.

"Ugh, Dad's. Don't you hate them" she said, moving one of her legs on top of the other. "Or just...men in general.."

I saw Hotch a few feet down the bar, eyeing us up. "Yup.." I said, popping the 'p'.

"So many treat thier daughters terribly.." she said, taking another sip of her drink.

I didn't respond, but held my gaze.

"I bet I could treat you better.." she said, rubbing her high heel along my calf. "So much better than any man.."

My eyebrow arched as I copied her earlier move of leaning toward her.

"Oh yeah? How would you do that?" I asked, lightly biting the straw of my drink.

She smiled, her eyes growing hungry.

"Firstly.." she started, getting up off the stool.

EMILY'S POV

"Firstly.." she got up off her stool and took another step closer to Y/n.

"I'd show you how much of a princess you are.." she said, running her tongue along her teeth.

"Ew." I said, audibly. JJ, Spencer and Rossi drew their faces away from the computer and looked at me.

"What?" I asked. They said nothing and returned back to watching the unsub, while my eyes darted back to Y/n again.

"What then?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Oh then?" the unsub replied. "You'll just have to wait and see..." she said, paying with the lace of Y/n's sleeves.

I felt my heart leap into my throat.

"Can we go in already?" I asked, impatiently.

"Morgan and I are slowly etching toward them, be ready." Hotch replied.

I let out a breath and made sure my gun was loaded.

"Oh alright Y/l/n.." I heard JJ say, her eyebrows were raised, she sounded impressed.

I looked up from my gun "What?" I asked.

She pointed to Y/n just in time for me to see her tucking in some of the unsub's hair behind her ear.

The grimace on my face was painfully obvious, but I didn't care. I felt my chest roaring with flames of....I don't know what. Watching Y/n like that with someone else just didn't sit right with me. Maybe it was the fact that she was an unsub.

I watched the screen and saw the unsub pouring something in Y/n's drink, Y/n's vision blocked by the unsub's hand that she placed on her face.

"Hotch!?" I questioned, already making my way out of the SUV.

"I saw it, go." he responded.

"Already at the door."

Y/N'S POV

I heard her crush something in my drink, and my smile grew as I masked the slight fear creeping in.

"You're so beautiful" she said, stroking my cheek.

I giggled and reached inside my bag, pulling out my gun. "You're not, F.B.I" I said.

She turned to lose me in the crowd, but was met with Hotch right behind her. Morgan, JJ, Reid, Rossi, the police and Emily all filtered through the party goers, with thier guns pointed at our unsub.

The crowd of clubbers dispersed, some running out of the club, others huddling and watching from the sides.

She huffed putting her hands up. Emily holstered her gun and forcefully pushed down the unsub's arms, tightening the handcuffs around her wrists. "You're under arrest for the murder of 4 women, you have the right to remain silent-"

"I know my rights!" the unsub spat.

"Let's hope you do." Emily replied, shoving her toward a police officer to escort her to a cruiser.

I watched her leave, standing at the bar.

Emily turned to me, placing her hand gently on my elbow. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

I looked to her and smiled. "Yeah, I'm good" I smiled.

She looked down at my drink, the powder still visible. "I was scared you were gonna take another sip.." she admitted.

My heart fluttered. "I heard her crush it.." I said sheepishly.

"Crush it?" She asked.

"Yeah, it must've been like a pill or something..I don't know" I said.

Emily met my eyes again, her pupils dilating as she took in my features.

"Actually pills are pretty hard to crush, unless it was specifically made, she would have struggled to crush it without atleast looking like she was trying to. She may have snapped the pill if it had a casing on it but I don't think that's what we're dealing with. Due to how packed the powder is within a pill, a human's finger strength isn't enough to crush it how you thought she would have. Have you ever tried to crush an egg with just one hand? It's basically the same thing-"

"Reid.." Morgan smiled.

"Yeah?" he asked. Morgan just shook his head.

Reid looked back at Emily and I and noticed how neither of us were processing the information he was giving, we were just looking in each other's eyes. We were staring at one another a little too long to just be friends.

"Oh.."

AARON HOTCHNER

Was flirting with my boss unprofessional? Yes.

Was I certain I was one lip bite away from getting fired? Also yes.

Did I care? That's another story.

I sat next to Morgan on the jet as we ran through what we had and attempted to get as much information about the unsub as possible before landing in Detroit.

"Well this guy surely isn't organized, his work is sloppy. It's like he doesn't care about getting caught" Hotch said.

"But evidences suggest that he is organised. He's taken forensic countermeasures to ensure we can't ID him..." Rossi spoke from his seat.

"Well...I wouldn't care if it was you taking me into custody either, Hotchner." I said, looking up at him and smiling.

He licked his lips, staying slient. "Morgan, Reid, go the crime scene. Rossi, Prentiss and JJ, talk to the victim's families..see what you can gather. Y/l/n, you're with me at the station." he said.

"Alright Hotch! Friendly remarks aren't a crime now are they?" I asked, holding up my hand sin defence.

"If you're not careful they will be, and plus..they were hardly friendly.." he said, walking off to sit in his seat.

"He loves it really." I say to the rest of the team, as they either hid thier smiles or unshamefully giggled at my antics.

We landed in Detroit and separated, each of us leaving for where Hotch wanted us to go, of course, he kept me by his side. Can't help it can he?

"So are we just gonna set up and wait for the others?" I asked, walking to our given room at the precinct.

"No, not exactly. The Detriot Police already have a suspect in custody.." He said, nodding toward the interrogation room.

"And you were gonna tell the team when exactly?" I asked, looking through the glass.

"They know, I had Garcia notify them as they made their way to where they needed to be. You and I, are gonna crack this guy. Even if he didn't kill and rape those 3 women...he's got something on him.." He said.

I raised my eyebrow. "Let me guess, I should be the one to talk to him?" I said, tilting my head slightly.

Hotch stepped closer to me. "Steven Oaks. He's a typical Alpha Male, one who doesn't lack dominance, he's unlikely to talk with someone a bit too...similar." he said.

I matched his movements and turned to face him too. "So what are you saying, Hotch? You afraid your “Alpha” persona's gonna rub him off the wrong way?" I mocked.

"Not at all, I'm just saying he might take pleasure in talking to someone a little more...submissive" he said, glancing from my eyes to my lips again and again.

I let out a breath and bit my tongue. "Is this an order?" I asked.

He didn't respond, he just held his gaze, and so I stared right back. His eyes, though often darting south, were never drawn away by nearby policemen.

I shook my head. "Pfft, fine. What's my tactic, Hotch?" I asked, approaching the glass and getting a good read of the guy before going in.

"Just see what you can find out.." He said, his arms folded.

I approached the door and entered, not before undoing just one more button of my shirt.

"Listen man i-"

I smiled warmly. "Last time I checked, I wasn't a man.." I said, sitting across from him.

He smirked and leant back in his seat. Relaxed already.

"No..no you are not" he said, his smile not fading.

"Ma'am, I can assure you, I had nothing to do with those 3 women, okay?" he said, sitting up.

"Oh we know, well- I know.." I sheepishly smiled, playing into whatever persona I threw on as I walked in.

"I know what kinda man you are...you wouldn't kill.." I said, my smile not faulting as I began to brush his leg with the tip of my shoe.

He took a breath in. "Oh yeah?" he asked, biting his lip.

As much as this was killing me, I had to play along. It's all fun and games flirting with your boss whom you know (and cherish on that note) but it's another thing doing it with a creep that you're certain should be in a cage.

"So...tell me Steven. How many people are in your gang?" I asked. If I'm totally honest, it was a shot in the dark, the only thing I had to go off was the badly covered up tattoo on his forearm. It was the symbol of a pretty wanted gang in the area after they moved from Canada down to Detriot.

"Oh I have a gang do I?" he asked.

"I assume so, you seem like the type of guy who.. likes to be in charge.." I said, running my foot just that tiny bit higher.

"I am." he said.

I kept my gaze fixed.

He smirked again. "Mulier vivit ut serviat viro suo et viri qui in circuitu eius sunt."

(A/n: I used Google translate, do not quote me that that was a correct translation)

This time, I leaned back and drew away my foot. "A woman lives to serve her husband and the men who surround her." I said, translating what he said. The way this gang was first noticed, was through an investigation of rapes. Each woman was left with a word printed out on an A4 peice of paper, until the rapes stopped and the police were able to form a sentence.

“A woman lives to serve her husband and the men who surround her.”

By the look on his face, he wasn't expecting me to know Latin.

He smirked again though, drawing his eyes away from my face, to my chest.

"Oh the things I would've done to you..." he whispered, his voice low and his breath repulsive.

He leaned forward more, reaching out his hand, probably to stroke my cheek, but before I could move Hotch stormed in, slamming his hands on the table.

"Touch my Agent, or even think about it, and I swear to you, I have a registered Glock 17 in my holster with a new box bullets that I will personally fire into every single one of your limbs, until any low life friends you do have, won't be able to identify your body. The only thing left of you will be those already rotting teeth." He said, his voice stern.

Steven sat back in his chair, unimpressed. Hotch took me by the hand, and placed his other on my waist guiding me to the door.

"Was that a threat, Agent?" Steven asked as Aaron was about to shut the door.

"No." he said. "That was a promise." he said, slamming it instead.

"Are you okay?" he asked as soon as we were back in the BAU's room at the precinct.

"Yes." I smiled. "Didn't you want more dirt on that guy anyway? I mean...was the quote even enough to nail him?" I asked.

"The words left with each of the rape victims were never released to the public, the only people who would know that phrase are the Detectives who worked the case, or the gang members themselves..are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, taking a step forward. It was hesitant, compared to his pervious one.

I closed the gap between us, laying my hands on his chest. "Aaron Hotchner, I am fine. I was doing my job." I said, looking up at him.

He almost leaned in to my touch as he took a deep breath. "If you need to tap out of the case I will happily-"

"Aaron." I interrupted him.

"We've put away a freak, let's work on the unsub we were called in for, okay?" I asked.

His hand found itself at the small of my back, his thumb rubbing soft circles.

"Just let me know.." He said, before turning around away from me, just in time as Reid and Morgan walked in.

SPENCER REID

"-It's all maths really.." Spencer had climbed out of his pool of facts and statistics. He was trying to convince Hotch to let him come into the casino with me.

"And plus if..if anything happens then she won't be left on her own.." he said, glancing at me.

"Not that you wouldn't be able to handle yourself..I was simply-"

"Spence." I cut him off smiling.

"Hotch said you come in with me 5 minutes ago." I said.

"He did?" he turned his head to where Hotch was standing.

"Get ready" Hotch said, before turning on his heels and leaving the room.

Spencer turned to me and sheepishly smiled. That same smile in which I'd fallen for.

I exited the room also, to change into something more...gold digger appropriate. Wasn't exactly my style. I wasn't the type to dress so provocatively but if it's to catch a killer, I'll wear anything. I changed out of my shirt and got into the dress I was given, squeezing into the high heels and attempting to but on the mascara.

I huffed in the mirror after slipping for the third time.

"You..need some help with that?" Emily asked, walking into the changing room.

I smiled. "Please" I said, holding it out for her.

She took it and began applying it. "You're telling me you don't ever wear mascara?" she asked, concentrating.

"No? Have seen me with mascara? Or any makeup for that matter?" I asked.

"Well lucky for some...natural beauty and all that.." she said, turning to my other eye.

"Oh please" I said, waving her off.

"What?" she asked, almost offended. "You're gonna tell me you're not beautiful? Because I know I certain man with an IQ of 187 and interestingly enough, his intelligence gets slashed to 60 when he sees you for the first time in the mornings.." she said, smirking.

I tried to hide my blush, but that was hard considering she was right in my face. She turned my head with her fingers and examined her work. "There all done." she said, turning me to the full length mirror, taking in my appearance as a whole.

"Jeez that's a look" I said, slightly grimacing. "I mean...it'd look great on someone else I just don't know how I feel about it.."

"Well you're gonna have to embrace it!" She said, walking out. I followed close behind. "And besides you actually look really hot" she said, winking at me.

I laughed. "Don't let JJ hear you say that.."

Her mouth gaped and she hit me on the shoulder.

"Okay, we're ready" Emily said, as we walked back in to the room.

The others gawked at my outfit, never expecting to see me in something like it, even Hotch raised his eyebrows momentarily.

"Damn, pretty girl" Garcia said from the computer.

"Thanks Penny" I smiled. "Where's..Spencer...or Reid, sorry.." I asked.

"Oh he's just coming we gave him something to wear aswell" Hotch said, pointing to the door.

Spencer walked in, he wore a black jacket with matching trousers and a white shirt, with a number of the buttons undone. His hair a little less styled than before, and a bit messier.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks in a frenzy, and the fabric around my chest got a little tighter.

"Sorry, I know what time the unsub gets to the casino and I didn't have time to do my hair..." he said, fiddling with a number of strands.

Too flustered to speak, I just did the first thing I thought of. I walked over and ruffled his hair up more. "You look beautiful." I said, and walked out immediately.

My eyes were popped out of my head as I walked away, the team following close behind me.

Morgan began walking next to me. "What was that?" He giggled.

"Derek." I warned, my blush still hadn't faded from when Spencer walked in.

SPENCER'S POV

"Sorry, I know what time the unsub gets to the casino and I didn't have time to do my hair..." I said, trying my best to fix it.

That's when my heart stopped. Y/n walked over, in a dress I'd never imagine her in. I'm sure she wouldn't have put herself in the dress either, but that's not to deny how beautiful she looked.

Sure, her persona for tonight was: 'flirt with and rub up the guy with the most money' (our unsub) but she looked like an angel to me.

"Reid!" Garcia snapped me out of my thoughts from her spot on the computer.

"Go! Everyone left with Y/n when she walked past you" she said, smirking. She disappeared off the screen and I scurried out of the room, catching up with everyone.

Y/N'S POV

"Here are your ear peices, they're small enough so no one will notice." Hotch said.

I put mine in, as did Spencer.

"Okay, Y/n you go inside first, all you need to do is steal his phone, it should be in the inside pocket of his blazer.." Hotch said.

"So my pick-pocketing childhood has payed off.." I said, jokingly.

I made my way inside the casino and let myself settle in. I'm here to find a man with a big prize pot. A specific man anyway.

I wandered from one end of the casino to the other latching onto winners of games until I finally noticed the unsub sat at a poker table.

I looked behind me, noticing Spencer just entering the casino. He saw me, we locked eyes. I reluctantly teared mine away and went and stood behind the unsub.

"Well isn't that a bad hand? Surely you should fold.." I said, looking down at the straight in his hand.

"Call." said the others at the table.

The unsub looked up at me and smirked as he showed the dealer his straight, winning the pot. He handed me a bill. "Why don't you go get us some drinks for the next game sweetheart? A scotch for me if you don't mind.." he said.

I made sure to be overly touchy. "Sure thing" I said, strutting away.

I made my way over to the bar, where Spencer was. "Can I have a lemonade and a Scotch please?" I said, making sure to not drop the act I'd put on.

"Is that Poker over there?" Spencer spoke up.

I faced him. "It sure is, takes a lot of luck.." I said, walking off with the drinks.

Spencer followed. "Or intelligence." he said, beating me to the table and sitting down.

I passed the unsub his drink and we clinked glasses.

The dealer dealt everyone their cards, including Spencer this time around.

Everyone took a brief look at thier cards, and each man tapped the table. They all called.

The dealer flipped over the three cards, resulting in two of the men to fold, the only ones in the game now were the unsub and Spencer.

"C'mon baby, you got this.." I whispered, not so quitely in the unsub's ear, running my hands in and out of his blazer, passing off as just really horny. The game continued as I felt up this little freak until I eventually felt the phone and managed to slip it out, unnoticed.

"I'll raise.." the unsub said, throwing in an abundance of chips.

I looked up at Spencer, trying to tell him that he could fold already as I had the phone.

Instead, he watched me fiddle with the collar of the unsub's blazer.

He said nothing, and just placed the chips in, seeing the unsub's raise.

"Okay, cards?" the dealer asked.

The unsub layed his cards down. "Full House.." the unsub said, smiling.

Spencer didn't even look at the dealer as he placed his cards down, his eyes were glued to mine. "Royal Flush.." he said, his head tilted slightly.

I of course had to keep up my act, so while running my hands down his arms, I slowly walked away from the unsub and over to Spencer, wrapping my hands around him this time.

"Well aren't you lucky?" I said.

He faced me. "It's all maths really" he said, placing his hand over mine as it layed on his chest.

"What do you say I cash in these chips and we...get ourselves outta here" he said, standing up, and turning to face me, his hands snaking around my waist.

I bit my tongue and further closed the gap between us. "Okay" I said. At this point I didn't even need to act turned on. I was.

SPENCER'S POV

We walked, arms linked over to the cashier and exchanged the chips I had for the money.

"You won big tonight didn't you, son?" The cashier said, gathering the bands. I looked at Y/n, examining every inch of her perfect skin.

"I did.."

We made our way out of the casino, and walked down the road a little, before hustling into the SUV.

"Y/n you got the phone didn't you?" Hotch said, his angry eyes not leaving mine until she pulled it out.

"Oh but of course Agent Hotchner" she said, passing it to him.

I faced her again, the dim light in the SUV glowing down on her like she was the center of the universe..well...she was the center of mine anyway.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #emily prentiss x you #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader #female reader

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skayafair · 7 months ago

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Hell Circles

Alright time for a soul-crashing post!

When I saw Edwin curling down on the floor in that room in Hell, trying to be as quiet as possible and not even trying to run when Charles found him, my mind faltered.

We know Edwin escaped Hell. So why did he look like he gave up? He hasn't been there for as long as the first time, I think even with hell's no-time he should have been able to feel this.

I explained it to myself in 2 ways, they aren't mutually exclusive and are both pretty painful to think about.

It was just this devastating to end up in Hell for the second time, and Edwin clearly didn't expect for anyone to come for his rescue. So his resilience and resolve weren't as strong as the first time or, rather, he felt broken by this sudden developement and didn't manage to bounce back from it yet (again, it wasn't very long this time). The boiling point of "I WILL get out of here again, everything be damned" wasn't reached yet. (As you can clearly see, I have no doubts whatsoever that he WOULD HAVE done this eventually, just after much more trauma and suffering. I'm so glad Charles came before all that.)

This is a psychological cycle. I often go through a similar one so I couldn't help remembering it. When you run as fast as you can and try your best to no avail until you're out of all the resources to go on, and so you give up. Curl up in the corner and hope the outside world won't notice you, give you some respite. The future seems bleak or non-existent. You give. up. It won. And then over time the inner battery charges, or the desperation reaches its breaking point, so you grit your teeth and get up. And run and try again and again and again. "Impossible just means try again". I thought Edwin must have went through similar cycles time after time. The first time he was dragged into hell, then the second. After every couple of "deaths". The worst thing about it is that while real life has at least one escape (not recommended but as a last resort it's at least always there if everything becomes too unbearable), Edwin has none. His only choice is either to tremble in the corner forever (and who said the doll-spider won't notice him even so?) or to run and be torn to pieces. Forever is a very long time. Only with running there's still this very thin, very subtle hope to escape, so in a way this choice is unavoidable. Oh, right, Edwin actually has another possible escape - into madness can you tell I'm fond of loveraftian horror. Locking himself up in his own mind might help, although I'm not sure it would have been effective enough. And honestly I'm glad he wasn't this broken after all.

So yeah that was fun to realize :')

Also Edwin doesn't handle change well, as we know from Charles' words. How jarring (beside the obvious) was it to be tossed from one demon to another? I bet the "punishment" changed, too. It must have felt devastating to figure out the way of handling one and get more used to it, more mentally stable, however horrible it might be, - just to be thrown into a completely new situation.

Let's add insult to the injury, shall we? Look at the corridors Edwin was kept in. The greenish hue, the dim light that makes even the most spacious halls feel claustraphobic. It feels heavy, weights on your mind. There are no windows, no outside, forever. It's suffocating. This place is a pure torture on its own, even without demon doll head spiders.

All in all, I didn't like Edwin much when I first started watching, but after completing the series and rewatching on top of that, I admire him. To go through all these horrors and get out of them is worth that on its own. But Edwin retained his kindness, compassion, moral compass and a will to help others in need. He didn't grow callous, didn't lock himself away emotionally from the world fearing to be hurt again - at least not completely, not even close. I really didn't expect to come to respect and admire a teenage series character like that.

This show has a heart in it, it's living and beating and big and kind, and its characters reflect that in full.

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne

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royalarchivist · 1 year ago

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Pac: [Reading Richarlyson's sign] "I've never been to the prison dad 0_0" [Gasps] That's true, that's true- actually, we made a vault– a vault, Mike? A promise. If we gon– Richarlyson's gonna be locked up with us next time we're gonna be locked up, 'cuz I have a feeling we gonna be.

Fit: Oh yeah?

Mike: Probably, probably.

Pac: And if the time came, we– Richarlyson is gonna be with us. [Laughs]

Fit: Well, I mean–

Mike: I think everyone should escape prison once.

Pac: Yeah, at least once you know. It's good!

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]

Fit: I mean–

Mike: That builds character, that builds character.

Fit: [Laughs] "Builds character" yeah, I suppose it would, yeah, I guess it would.

Pac: Yeah and it's like- it's sad to be locked up by yourself, you know? I was locked up by myself, and was sad, but being locked up with my family? Oh my god, that's so nice, I– [sighs dreamily] That's gonna be so great, yeah.

Mike: It's like a vacation, you know, when you go to your family, with your family it's always better.

Pac: Yeah! Yeah it's kinda like a family trip, but without the trip, and you're gonna be locked up in a cage, you know? Feeling pain.

Fit: It's like being stuck in a hotel room, except once in a while someone gets taken away and... um. Tortured, and– yeah, yeah, yeah.

Pac: Yep, tortured, that's the perfect analogy.

Richarlyson: Tio I swear they are sane.

Fit: "They are sane"?

Pac: It's a tradition, you know, in my– our family, right? Like... Yeah, the person that wasn't locked up is Forever, and I think he definitely needs to be locked up. Like, right? I'm waiting for this moment. Right, Richas? He deserves it.

Mike: Yeah, me too, me too, he deserve it, now that he's president and he's [unclear] off and against the Federation, he should be locked up.

Pac: He should be the first president to be locked up! [Laughs]

Fit: You all have a very interesting family dynamic, I will put it like that. [Laughs]

#Tazercraft #FitMC #Richarlyson #QSMP #Pactw #Mikethelink #Mike #Pac #Gosh I've had this sitting in my drafts for weeks it got buried I completely forgot about it #Fit #Q #I MISS TAZERCRAFT #I MISS RICHARLYSON #AGHHHHHHH #Also if it isn't clear: when Pac said ''a vault'' what he meant was ''a vow''

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seiya234 · 5 months ago

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the haunting of ian beale, 2/?

uh this one got long lol. part one here.

---

Ian looked around him.

He looked at who was next to him, and what he was wearing and sighed deeply.

"Well, it's not the Symbolism Room at least."

Henry nodded. "It's the Symbolism Beach, which will obviously be better."

"Was that a joke?"

"Rest assured, I do not engage in any type of jokes, frivolity, japes or shenanigans."

"Well as long as that's settled."

The beach was... endless, sand in all directions on either side of him, water in front of him. Ian didn't look behind him; something inside told him that he wouldn't like it. Normally that would have had him immediately looking from sheer spite but his gut was telling him

he would see Nothing

truly, Nothing.

could he handle seeing Nothing? no, okay, let's move on then because

this chair was very comfortable.

Henry and Ian were in Adirondack chairs, and Ian knew it wasn't his mind supplying he beach because he had never heard that term in his life. Thankfully, something knew him well enough to pair his swim trunks with a shirt and sun hat.... though considering his trunks were covered in yellow triangles, and his shirt had a Radical Dude Doing Sik Sk8 Trix on it, he was still clearly being fucked with.

Henry, Ian was bemused to see, was still in his weird pre-Transcendence 'preacher' outfit, though tonight at least he had short sleeves on.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Ian looked out at crashing waves, water so dark as appear to black, a blue cloudless sky. It felt... calming. Meditative. The waves were just enough to provide sound, but not so violent as to actually disturb the sense of calm tranquility.

His brain, Ian realized, was quiet.

Quiet in that every time he felt the panic rise, it felt like a big fist came to kindly push on his chest until he settled down.

He should probably be worried about that but

oh. hey. A fruity tropical drink in his hand. Convenient, that.

"What brings you here this time?" Ian asked. "I"m not sure how many after school specials I can handle."

Henry frowned a bit. "I'm not entirely sure myself. Quite frankly I'm amazed I'm here spea-"

Henry disappeared. Ian took the opportunity to will his drink from a virgin pina colada to a margarita.

He looked out at the ocean.

He didn't look behind him.

"My apologies." Henry was still the same, though his glass had now turned into a mug that read 'World's Best Grandpa.'

"Not exactly fun being constantly in the midst of an existential crisis, I get it."

Henry looked around him. "This... this is my daughter's beach."

The mindscape of someone dead a thousand years. But

"You seem... relatively calm, about that," Ian finally ventured.

"You mean, as compared to Alcor?" Ian must have pulled a face, because Henry let out a bittersweet little laugh.

"No. I am sad my daughter is gone. But I am happy knowing since then she has had a hundred different life times to experience joy-"

"-and pain-"

"-and that too but one is not outweighed by the other. It just is. We see each other in-"

Henry kept talking but for a minute all that came out was radio static. Ian had a feeling that even if Bill or Alcor were here, they too would only hear that static as well.

"-also, with all due respect for my brother, it has been a millennium. Everyone and everything involved has moved on."

"But not him," said Ian with full disrespect.

"No." Henry took a drink and adjusted his visor. "in a way, I pity him, deeply. I think he will forever be locked in the trauma of losing everyone and everything he knows. There is a part of him that cannot change, cannot move on, and he knows it."

"Okay, but that's bullshit though?" and oh, was he mad? Okay, he was not only mad, but pretty mad, even with the chest pushing blanket on him.

"I'm sorry, but a thousand years, and nothing has changed? Seriously? Also have we forgotten that vampires also can live a very long time, or dragons, and I don't see them doing... doing-"

Ian waved a hand to indicate everything Alcor had done, ever.

"Vampires don't have infinitely expanding and growing power at their beck and call."

"And that makes a difference how?" Man the combination dreamarita, dream beta blocker, and the constant rage that bubbled under his skin was actually a really good combo, the words were flowing but the heart rate was not accelerating, 12/10 feeling.

"My life, Mira's life... they're different because Alcor is in them- and not always for the better."

"Bill might have happened anyway."

"Point. But would I be missing an eye, would-"

Ian stopped, because he didn't want to tell Henry about the pain, the sadness, the absolutely tremendous amount of stress on all of them, because the preteen with the power of a god decided to come into their lives and play with them like dolls.

He didn't deserve that truth, yet.

Everything was silent for a minute, save for the breaking of the waves and the cry of the gulls.

Finally, Henry managed to say, "I think, I am a little upset to hear you say that. But if I put my emotions aside for a second, I do not think you are entirely wrong, either."

Ian was still. He had seen Henry crush the plastic armrests under his hands, caught the hot iron tang of blood in his nose and a flash of meat in the antlers.

"Has he told you, about my children? His nieces and nephew?"

"No. He hasn't? I'm... sorry?"

For a minute, Henry disappeared. But this time it felt like it was because he chose to do so himself.

Henry blipped back in, now also holding a dreamarita. "My apologies. I did not realize how that would affect me. And I did not hold space for your extremely valid criticisms."

Looking at him, Ian felt a wash of pity come on him. What was it like- no, what had to have happened that even a thousand years later you felt the need to exert that level of control over oneself?

"Anyway," Henry went on. "We had triplets- Acacia, Hank, Willow. They were our everything. Alcor was their fourth parent." The math must clearly have not been mathing on Ian's face because Henry added "We also had my father-in-law with us. No but... I don't regret having Alcor with us, having Alcor raise the kids. He loved them, more than anyone or anything else-"

"-except Mizar."

Henry looked like he bit a lemon.

"Yes. Well. My point is, I don't regret it but thinking about it... we were all affected in some way, letting a demon into our homes, into our bed. And... it wasn't always all good." Henry paused. "But it wasn't all bad, either."

Ian thought about it, really, truly thought about it for a minute.

"It's not all bad," he finally agreed. "But he seriously needs to fix his shit."

"I'll have a talk with him-" Henry's hands and feet blipped, appeared quickly hanging from his antlers, then appeared back where they should be. "Or I'll try to anyway."

They drank their drinks. At some point, a goat wandered onto the beach.

Ian still didn't feel tempted to look back behind him. It felt like being fourteen. It wasn't a good feeling and oh, the calm down hand was pushing him down again-neat!

"I am a little embarrassed that I am just now having this realization," Henry said as he began his second dreamarita. "It feels like something I should have recognized a long time ago."

Ian was now three dreamaritas in and beginning to see 5-D colors. "I wouldn't sweat it, it's probably because your consciousness was violently ripped apart and the resulting energy used to power a demon and now the million fragments of your soul are slowly beginning to piece themselves together and wait, how do I know this?"

"You know the answer."

"Ugh. Him."

"But you are probably correct."

"Orrrrrr, and just throwing this out there- none of this could be real and it's simply my brain trying to process the absolute shitshow of the last few years."

"Perhaps. I know that I, personally, do not feel very 'real' right now, which is also very disconcerting."

They sat. They drank their drinks. The goat was eating a seagull, an image that Ian was almost going to immediately throw on a storyboard for the next episode when he woke up.

"Why are you here? Doing this?" Ian finally asked.

"I don't have anything else better to do. Dipper won't listen to me."

Ian was not going to touch that with a ten foot pole but he went on. "That's not your vibe, that's what assholes like me say."

"I am trying to be witty, but that has never been my strong suit."

Which was why Ian wasn't going to point out that that had been nowhere near wit but-

"-I thought you could use someone to talk to, about all of this."

"Okay, but we already had this conversation and I am pretty sure you are not a licensed therapist."

"Very much not; I was a librarian."

"That tracks."

"So no, I am not a therapist. I certainly can't 'fix' you, nor do I have any intent on doing so."

That flare of anger again. "Okay, but my life would be considerably easier if my brain wasn't constantly trying to crash into the ocean and explode, so I'd rather like some fixing, thank you very much."

Henry held his hands up in supplication. "My apologies, I was trying to go for more 'we are defined by our life experiences.'" He looked down. I'm not always the best with.. talking to people. Understanding them. That was all-"

"Mira." Unbidden, her name out of his mouth.

"Her."

On Henry's arms, Ian could see dozens of little round scars, up and down. His hands clasped his mug, and Ian could see that two or three of his fingers were crooked.

Ian had a feeling why Henry had a hard time with people. It wasn't a good feeling.

"But look. One good talk won't fix everything forever. I think you could use someone to talk to about this a little more regularly. I don't know all of what you've been through, our experiences aren't a one to one comparison but, I get it. Really. And I know in retrospect, I should have talked to someone myself."

"Wait. I'm sorry, you didn't have a therapist? Or anything?"

It was disconcerting to see a middle aged man who could instantly obtain and wear the mantle of Death blush beet red.

Ian could see where this was going. "Henry did you ever talk to your wife about any of this?"

"A... a tiny bit, I think. I hope. But, I think I didn't want to burden her... which in and of itself created a burden on her. I trusted her, more than anything else in the world, but I... I couldn't talk to her."

Henry looked down at the drink in his hands. "It was always so much easier to talk here, than it was in the real world."

Control.

Ian thought about the control it took to keep the anger at bay, keep the temper cool, keep everything inside, at all times.

Control, that was more akin to a prison.

Aloud though, all Ian said was "Oof," because honestly he wasn't sure how to handle this level of honesty from a guy he was only talking to for the second time ever, also who was super dead.

"My apologies, I know that was a lot of- as my kids used to say- 'oversharing.' But I just dont want you to make the same mistakes I did."

A chill trickled down Ian's spine. "Um, I'm actually emotionally available and talk to my fiance like a real person, thank you very much. To say nothing of the multiple therapists I am currently seeing."

Henry ignored Ian's barbs and went on. "I know you talk to Mira-"

"How-"

"I can see inside you," Henry said, nonchalantly.

Not even magic airborne anxiety medicine would keep Ian's heart from immediately jackhammering in his chest, stop his temper from instantly snapping like a twig."

Ian's voice was low. "I am sick and TIRED of people, especially people I don't know, RUMMAGING inside of my head."

Henry was flushing but this time there were stormclouds in his face, which tough shit.

"It all comes down to BILL, always and forever, and apparently that's a legitimate reason to invade my privacy? In the most violating way possible?"

"That was certainly not my intention, could I please explain?"

Ian was standing up now, albeit wobbly because those dreamaritas were hitting hard, and looked out to the ocean beyond. He resisted the urge to dump a devastating one liner and began to wade out into the ocean. He'd just swim until he woke up, and then put "learn how to lucid dream" on his calendar so he could peace out right away next time this happened.

"Wait, Ian you should not go out in that water-"

Ian flipped him the bird and kept going.

"No, seriously, I think that's a rip tide-"

Suddenly, it felt like two hands grabbed Ian's ankles and pulled and now he was flying through the water, further and further from shore. He tried swimming sideways, but the not-hands on his ankles held on tighter and pulled him under."

It was a dream so obviously, Ian didn't need to breathe.

But

Everything around him was wine dark and suffocating. Underneath his feet was tens of thousand of feet of water and more than that was a deep crushing M A W, a great big stingray's mouth that sought out pray and sucked it in to crush it between it's two great grinding plates and he was drawing closer and closer and

Something else wrapped around his waist. Something... wood? It wrapped and it Pulled

And the maw and the wine dark sea and the bird eating goat and the beach were gone, all gone, and it was just him, and Henry, in a blank white space.

"I'm sorry, I tried to take you to my space but-"

For a second, everything flickered around Ian and he was in a forest but flicker again and it was the blank white room.

"-but I think that part of me is gone, right now."

"So. Thank you for saving me, but counterpoint, what the fuck was that murder beach?"

"I did not realize that her beach had.. not quite gotten a mind of its own. Say was akin to a machine left on way too long, running the same processes until it burns out-"

"And those processes are?"

"Eradicate intruders by destroying them, and dispersing their energy."

"And," Ian said after a long minute, "that was your daughter's mind."

"She was going through some things." Henry paused. "In retrospect, quite a lot of things."

Ian sat down, and Henry next to him.

"I don't- it's not on purpose, I promise."

Ian sighed. "I had a feeling. Honestly, you don't give off that kind of vibe. It's just-"

"You've been violated. Several times." There was an edge to Henry's voice and for a second the air around him smelt of blood and pine and wait, was he getting mad on Ian's behalf? Oh, that was... unexpected. But cool, thanks!

Henry closed his eyes, took a breath, and the air cleared. "I want to let you know I am not reading your mind-"

"Oh my stars, is that one theory that souls just watch the living like TV true? Because I got to tell you, I am deeply not sure how I feel about that existentially."

"No. I mean, kind of but-" radio static, again.

"I didn't catch any of that but I'm guessing no one is watching grandma go to the bathroom from the afterlife."

Henry shuddered. "Absolutely not. I can just..." He paused, clearly trying to think of a way to phrase it so that mortals could understand. Finally, he just reached out and gently tapped Ian's chest.

"I see that."

"Are you telling me you can see my heart? Because that is unimaginably corny."

"I can see that you are a good man, who loves and is loved in return."

For once, Ian had nothing to say.

The room began to dim, and Henry looked around. "I think you're starting to wake up."

"Oh, uh... okay."

There was an awkward pause, but finally, Ian extended an olive branch. "It feels like you still have more to say."

"I do."

"Then, I guess I'll see you around."

----

A pillow smacked into his face.

"Dude, why are you groaning so much?"

"Love you too, starshine."

"Seriously though, you practically woke yourself up. Weird dreams?"

Ian's brow crinkled. He couldn't remember anything but-

"Did I drink last night?"

"Um, unless you managed to do it in the 2 minutes we were apart before bed, no?"

"Huh. It's weird but I feel... hungover?"

#seiya writes!#transcendence au

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yeahspider · 2 years ago

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sharing toys 🕸️

VE’s note - hyunsung yes plz . hyune is a lil perv and possessive and jisung is just here for a good time . dom!jisung x sun f.reader x switch!hyunjin reader is stuck in the middle (a good place to be tbh) of them . nsfw . well actually it’s just suggestive but yk . not proofread . if you want a part 2 with smut lmk ! my requests are open stop by ! oh and this was inspired by play date - melanie martinez bye .

hyunjin was annoyed . you were supposed to be at the party with him , not his friend . watching you giggle with him as you drunkenly lay in jisung’s lap is making his blood boil . you were his , he had already marked a claim on you and jisung knew this . so why is he flirting with something that doesn’t belong to him . watching jisung tap your thigh as a sign for you to get up and follow him had him fuming . following behind you he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were. no matter how long your string him along a part of him would always belong to him . stepping up to the door he saw you enter hyunjin could hear you guys giggling . he wanted to know what was funny , he wanted to make you laugh .

“you know have you tried talking to him about it ? you never know he might be down” he heard jisung say to you . hyunjin knows he should feel ashamed about listening to your conversation with his ear pressed to the door but a bigger part of him didn’t care . he was just looking out for you .

but what if he thinks i’m weird jisung ? you question . if he ever rejected me i don’t know what i would do with myself . who was this he you were talking about . and why were you seeking comfort from his best friend and not him .

“have you seen the way he looks at you ? he would never reject you pretty.” hyunjin was getting more irritated by the second . only he could be enamored with you no one else .

you don’t know that jisung . he could just be friendly. he can hear the frown in your voice and it makes him frown with you . whoever was making you feel sad would face him he vowed in that moment .

“my best friend kitten . he tells me everything . he speaks so highly of you trust me he’s in love”. hyunjin was absolutely floored . jisung didn’t have many friends which means he was talking about him .

but hyunjin is so him and i’m just me . that frown was still apparent in your voice and he knew he couldn’t stand behind the door forever . not when you were speaking down on yourself he couldn’t allow it . opening he door to your shocked face and jisung smiling he walked up to where you were standing and kissed you . he could feel your body flinch before you melted into him . pulling apart when he felt you needed to brave he cupped your face in his hands and locked eyes with you .

“don’t ever think you’re not good enough for me . you’re everything . you’re betautul and smart and so so kind and i’ve you’re more than enough for me . i don’t want to hear you talk down on yourself ever again okay ? . hyunjin waited for your nod before releasing you . in that moment he had completely jisung was still present in the room and til he heard a clap coming from the bed .

okay well since were confessing things pretty girl here has something to spill . jisung says with the slyest smile hyunjin had ever seen . he could feel your shoulders rise and you let out a sigh . locking eyes with you again he never expected the words that spilled from your lips next .

“hyunjin i like you but i also like jisung and i know you probably think that’s disgusting and i really can’t help it i swear i tried okay but it’s just you’re both so great and so nice to me and i don’t know what to do -“ hyunjin cut off your ramble with another kiss . pulling the prettiest sound he’s ever heard from your lips . he was a little suprised with himself that jealous and anger were nowhere to be found within his heart . he’s known jisung his whole life . he trusts him . and knowing you did too was making blood rush to his pants .

“it’s okay . i mean i’m surprised honestly but i’m just glad you like me and i guess i’d your were to also like someone else jisung isn’t the worse person to have feelings for .” he says with a bit of laughter falling out his lips .

i feel like i should be offended somehow . jisung said as he came up behind you and grabbed your hips , softly pushing you closer to hyunjin . and who knew hyune bee could learn how to share . he teased to older boy , who just sent him a light hearted glare .

“so what now .” you asked with anticipation lacing your voice . “i can think of a few things to do”, hyunjin said as he peppered light kisses on your neck . jisung’s hands tightened on your hips as you tilted your head back so he could continue exploring . jisung tugged on your hip and pulled you away from hyunjin with a playful smirk on his face earning a whimper from the entranced boy in front of you .

i think it’s time to teach hyunjin how to properly share don’t you princess ?

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #yeahspider #stray kids headcanons #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids series #han jisung smut #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids angst #hyunsung smut

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celestialh4ven · 1 year ago

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A Secret

: Set in 1933. You are born into a wealthy family who is very protective and rich. You have very little freedom to roam around alone ever since childhood, now you’re a fed up adult craving for freedom. One day you decided to escape and to your luck, you succeeded! But now you had no where to go (well that’s what you thought) but to your luck (again) you met a man named Peter Parker, a famous tailor in the city. He offered to let you work for him for some until you were stable enough, even generous enough let you stay in the little apartment on the second floor of his shop. Little by little you start to fall for him, but unbeknownst to you, he has a little secret he’s been hiding…

cw : tailor!spider noir, wealthy(a lil spoiled)!reader, runaway!reader, peter is a big tease, sorta innocent!reader, lots of sexual tension, fluff, almost arranged marriage.

This is set in 1933 so some of the topics and values I made to be exactly how it was back then

———————— ————————— ———————— ——

It is the year 1933. You, are born into a rich and protective family, being an only child. You grew to be rebellious, constantly defying your parents wishes. Even now as you’re an adult in your 20s, your parents refuse to let you go, “You’re not even wed yet and you’re asking to leave? And do what?” Your father would always tell you. Trying to escape wasn’t easy either, or seemed that your mother built some sort of sixth sense that knew every time you’d try to escape. The first time you tried was simply embarrassing. Your family was hosting a party, in hopes to try to arranged you in a marriage with some other guy born into wealth. You thought it’d be simple, “All I have to do is hop over the wall in the back, how hard can that be?” It was very hard. You still had on a big poofy dress your mother forced you to wear that morning, “Ugh, it’s like her mind is stuck in the 1600s!” You grunted as you tried to climb over the wall. “I can’t wait to wear whatever I want when I leave—AH!”

THUD.

Whoops, y’a fall. But hey, you made it to the other side(ehh…) your parents were right in front of you, as if they knew you’d be there. They scolded you right in front of everybody. You’d never felt so embarrassed. “Yeah I told myself I’d never try to escape after that haha,” you let out an awkward laugh, “really? You sure don’t keep your promises, considering that you’re now here” “hmph!” Anyways! Yeah you told yourself you’d never try to escape ever again. Well…until your father lost it and tried to sell you off. “An..arranged…marriage?!” You shrieked just by the mere thought of those words, “Calm down hon!” Your father tried to stop you from making a scene. You were angry for two things: One: you’ve practically been begging to go and live and be on your own and they’ve always told you no and NOW they’re trying to basically sell you off to some rando! Two: it hasn’t even been a month since that embarrassing incident at the party. Oh my goodness! it was probably still fresh in everyone’s mind. You couldn’t leave yet at least not NOW!

You made sure to make the biggest scene of your life. You wanted everyone to feel your rage(they locked you in your room) “Now that I think about it, it actually wasn’t that bad I don’t know why I threw such a tantrum” “uh huh…” “what?” “Nothing, do keep talking” “Okay! Wait where did I leave off? Oh yeah!” Basically, you were devastated. You didn’t know why your dad would just betray you like that, just when you started to get comfortable with the thought of staying at home being a spoiled, unemployed princess for the rest of your life. “I can’t just let them sell me off, I have to escape!” And escape you did! We won’t talk about how you did it though, you’d rather bury that memory forever! “And that’s how I got here!” you exclaimed, “what a peculiar life you lived...” Peter chuckled, “I know! Ugh it was horrible!” “It’s a good thing I found you then,” Thankfully he did, you wouldn’t know what to do if Peter wasn’t around. Here’s how it happened…

You were walking on the city streets with soiled clothes, it was pretty hard to believe you were born into wealth with the way you were looking. “Ugh, does anybody not have any manners nowadays?” You thought to yourself, “what kind of men don’t help out a lady in obvious distress!” You were genuinely about to go crazy, you were so different from everyone, from the way you dressed all the way down to your makeup style. “So this is what it’s actually like outside…no poofy dresses or dramatic hair?” You sighed, maybe it was finally time to go home. “Are you alright?” A voice behind you asked, you turned around to see a rather dashing man, “Ye…actually no. I’m actually quite lost and I’m afraid I have nowhere to go,” angry tears almost fell from your eyes, you’ve never been so frustrated, “it’s no good for a young lady to wander around the streets this late at night, I have a shop not to far from here, you can clean up there” “YESPLEASE!” You quickly replied, you then linked you arm with his, “PLEASELEADTHEWAY!” You were so happy your words were all slurred together from talking so quick. “Alright then…”

It’s been three whole days since then. “Arms up and turn around for me so I can measure your waist,” he turned out to be a tailor, a very famous one at that. “Okay,” you replied. He was so nice to you, even offered you a job to help him with his works and in turn you can stay in his apartment on the second floor. “Is it alright if I take your hip measurements? I’m going to have to if you want a fitted dress.” “Oh…okay,” you felt tense as he got down on his knees in front of you wrapping his measuring tape around your hip and tightening it to get your measurements. For some reason your knees felt weak, his was just so close to your inner thighs and you just couldn’t help it. You wanted him closer, you wanted—“alright, I’m done,” he stood up to put his measuring tape back. “The shop’s about to open, I say you just hang around to see how things work before I give you any tasks,” “okay… I’ll uh be right down” “mm,” he replied before waving goodbye and closing the apartment door.

click.

—————————————————————————————

Two whole months after that day…

You were getting the hang of things now. You were running the shop with Peter, helping people try on clothes, accessories and what not. Occasionally, you’d feel a glare in your direction every time you were helping a male customer put on his clothes a bit too enthusiastically, but never dare look back to see who was giving you such looks. Everything was great! Well, almost. You parents had police searching high and low for you. You got yourself a little makeover and ditched those old fashioned clothes your mom would force you to wear, so you weren’t as noticeable. You weren’t ready to go back just yet, “I’ll give it another month,” you told yourself. As for Peter, boy did your feelings grow and fast! You wondered if you were just feeling this way because he technically provided you the freedom you have now. There were these occasional moments with you and him that you just couldn’t stop thinking about, like how he’d make you try on fitted custom made clothes that hugged your curves perfectly and have you basically put on a show for him.

Or how he’d assist you with cooking with his chest pressed onto your back, and his crotch pressed onto your ass, you didn’t stop him though, in fact you liked it, turns out you weren’t THAT innocent after all. Peter couldn’t lie that he didn’t feel the same about you. He’s been fond of you ever since you met, constantly finding ways to be near you and be as close as possible, he’d find himself taking your measurements regularly lying and saying that he keeps forgetting because he had to take the measurements of many people a day. He loved how you’d never question him when it was mostly the measurements of your more intimate areas that he just kept forgetting. He couldn’t quite place his finger in where this sudden affection for you came from but he wasn’t fighting it either. He wanted more of you.

one random night.

“I’m thinking of staring a lingerie collection, could you be the one to model some of my first pieces?” he questioned, “oh! Err sure!” What a sweet girl you were never saying no to anything he proposed. He gave you 15 pieces of clothes you went in your room to change. “Wow these sure are…intimate” you breathed out, you were a bit shy to try them on but you sucked it up and modelled all of the 15 pieces for him, he was so kind to you at the start, you just had to repay him in every possible way, which, to you, meant doing everything he asked of you. “The sides are too high up,” he pointed at you “huh?” “Come here,” he demanded. Confused, you follow his orders and walked up to him. “The sides are too high,” his hands rested on both sides of your hip slowing gliding them down to pull the sides of your panties down lower. Unable to stop yourself in time, you let a small moan.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself darling,”he looked up at you to meet your gaze full of desire, “should I keep going, love?” the look he gave you was dangerous, you’ve never wanted a man so bad. If only he were the man your parents wanted to sell you too, you’d marry him in a heartbeat. Marry…marry…, “marriage! Can’t! till marriage!” it's like you could hear your dad yelling at you. As much as you wanted him, you grew up with the idea of no sex before marriage and even though you were away from them the values you learned you still kept close to your heart.

knock

“I’ll go get that,” Peter sighed as he hurried towards the door and closed it behind him to talk to the figure outside.

“What is she doing in your house and why haven’t you gotten rid of her, Peter?”

#spider noir fanfic #spider noir x y/n #spider noir x you #spider noir x reader #spider noir x black reader #spider noir smut #spider noir #across the spiderverse smut #across the spiderverse imagine #lol why is this so long #look like I’m making another series

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the-cookie-of-doom · 7 months ago

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Five things Porsche learns about Kim lets gooooo

This actually started as a prompt from @shubaka forever ago (before we were friends 🥺) and I decided to torture myself by turning it into a 5+1 fic! But then I stalled out bc I didn't know what to add for the other parts klasjdhgf. It's actually still floating somewhere around here in my writing tag!

In it, Porsche is trying to befriend Kim, and Kim is horribly resistant to it. Porsche steals Chay's phone since Kim won't answer him, only for Kim to hang up as soon as he speaks, it's a whole thing. Basically Kim being forced to bond with his future brother in law <3

The first thing Porsche learns about Kim is that he's a squirrely little bastard. He weasels his phone number out of Chay - after finding out that Kinn didn't have it saved in his own phone, which will be a conversation for later - but Kim doesn't any answer any of the flurry of phone calls and texts that Porsche hurls his own way. Apparently, according to Porchay, Kim has memorized all the numbers of everyone important enough to be worth his time, and doesn't bother with anyone else.

What if someone has to borrow a phone? Porsche had asked. Sucks to be them, Chay replied, with a silly smile that might mean he's kidding, or it might mean he knows exactly how ridiculous Kim is being, but still somehow likes him anyway. Porsche would prefer the former but he's almost certain it's the latter, and he's trying to figure out exactly why Chay would like him so much. Because as far as Porsche can tell? Kim is more akin to a feral cat than anything else. Keeps his distance, sullenly watches Porsche anytime they happen to be in the same room, looking away only to scan for the nearest exit - which he takes at the earliest opportunity - and Porsche is certain Kim has actually hissed at him once. Probably not. Since Kim won't answer unknown numbers, Porsche is forced to stoop to his level. Kinn's phone is of course out of the question, which only leaves one other person, at least only one Porsche can easily access, guaranteed to have it. He's holding a struggling Porchay in a headlock while the phone dials. It only rings once. "Hello, love," Kim greets, his voice warm and syrupy and so, so fond that Porsche has to gag, just to see the way his brother flushes. "I'm sorry, Kim!" Porchay shouts. He's still struggling, digging his hands into Porsche's sides. "I tried to stop him!" "Porsche." And there it is, that flat tone Porsche is used to. "Hi, Kim, how's it going?" he asks casually. "Goodbye. "Wait, wait, wait!" It's no use. The line is already dead. Porsche releases his brother with a groan, and doesn't fight it when Chay snatches back his phone. "Why does he have to be so difficult?" "Kim doesn't like being cornered, hia," Chay scolds him. "If you just talked to him like a normal person-" "He won't let me! He keeps running!" "You're intimidating!" Porsche doesn't believe that for a second. If Kinn wasn't intimated by him, no way his feral, murderous little brother was. "Maybe you're coming on too strong? He probably think you're gonna kill him for, y'know..." "No, I don't know." Porsche side-eyes Chay, who's no longer making eye contact. "Do I need to kill him?" "No!" "Should I want to?" "Hia, No!" Chay throws his hands up. "See! This is why he won't talk to you! You're embarrassing." "Good. Also, I don't care. I want to talk to him, and unless he wants me to lock you in your room and forbit you from seeing each other for the rest of your life, he better cooperate." Chay lets out a sigh like the weight of all the world is bearing down on him. "I'll talk to him," he mumbles, sullen.

#cookie writes #kimchay

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bi-bard · 1 year ago

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We Ain't Angry at You, Love, You're the Greatest Thing We've Lost - Dream of the Endless Imagine [The Sandman]

Title: We Ain't Angry at You, Love, You're the Greatest Thing We've Lost

Pairing: Morpheus | Dream of the Endless X Dream!Reader

Based On: You're Gonna Go Far

Word Count: 1,638 words

Warning(s): Morpheus being a dick, mention of bullying/mistreatment

Summary: After the events with the Corinthian and the Dream Vortex, many thought that Morpheus may have run out of any remaining kindness and leniency. However, they were gravely mistaken. It simply took a well-intentioned dream to prove it.

Author's Note: I think I've changed this song's story about four times. I'm sorry. Everything just felt repetitive.

STICK SEASON [WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER] - NOAH KAHAN WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

------------------

After Morpheus went missing, I had been consumed by a deep fear that I would never be able to find a sense of purpose for myself.

It wasn't until a few years later that I finally allowed myself to leave the Dreaming behind me. It was terrifying at first. It was still largely unknown to me. I had to adjust and learn. However, once I started to do that, it was as if all of the puzzle pieces snapped into place.

I had never known peace like I did during my time on Earth.

For nearly a century, I had crafted myself a perfect home. I had established relationships and connections. I had become a fixture.

For the first time, there was a purpose for me that did not feel forced. One that did not leave me feeling burnt out or angry. I was able to merely exist and be enough for those around me.

Yes, there were hard times. I didn't age like humans did. There were times when I would need to move in order to avoid them figuring that out, but then I got to find a new web of people to connect myself to.

It was everything to me.

I had thought about what my life would have been like if I hadn't been confined to the Dreaming, but getting to actually experience it was... perfect.

It was a shame that my perfection was so cruelly interrupted.

I had no indication that anything was wrong as I walked into the small place that I had grown to call my own.

Maybe that was my fault. Maybe I hadn't been paying enough attention. Maybe spending my time in this realm had left me blind to the signs of my old one.

That was the only explanation I had for not being prepared to see Morpheus standing in my living room.

I jumped when I saw him. It had been a century. I had been under the impression that he wasn't coming back. I had convinced myself that I was perfectly safe here because Lucienne hadn't tried to stop me and I had spent so much time here.

It may have sounded foolish, but I wanted to believe it.

"Morpheus," I said quietly, still trying to grapple with the fact that he was alive and standing before me.

"Hello, (Y/n)," he replied.

I stepped inside quickly, shutting and locking the door behind me. "What are you doing here?"

"You abandoned the Dreaming."

"So did the Corinthian," I countered as I set my stuff on the dining room table. "Surely, he is of more importance than I am."

Morpheus's jaw clenched. "I have a plan to take care of the Corinthian and the harm that he has caused."

"The Corinthian has done nothing short of living up to the limits and purpose that you defined for him," I continued. "His work extended to the world of the waking, but you are the reason that he has been able to do such a thing."

"He is not important at this moment. You returning to the Dreaming is."

"Did you not also abandon the Dreaming," I asked, ignoring his statement almost entirely. Delaying the inevitable, but I had no interest in calling it that at the time.

"I was imprisoned," he corrected. "I had no escape for a century. You chose to run out of selfishness."

"Yours was due to imprisonment, mine was out of necessity,"

"Lucienne was watching over the realm. You were safe there."

"I was not when you were in power. Your absence did not change that for better or worse. All that changed was the crumbling of buildings."

He paused for a moment. "I do not understand."

"You never wanted to," I muttered. I crossed my arms and stood in front of him.

"Explain it to me. Tell me why you felt it was so necessary to abandon any and all responsibility that you had."

"Your other dreams and nightmares tormented me as much as they tormented the humans that they had been assigned to," I said bluntly, stepping forward as I did so. "Are you truly shocked that I decided to leave when I knew that it would be safe for me to do so?"

Morpheus had no answer to my question. His jaw merely clenched and his back straightened, as if making himself taller would cause me to step down from this argument.

I shook my head. "You need to go-"

"Regardless of the reason, you have a purpose in the Dreaming," he replied. "You will not abandon it."

"You have been gone for a hundred years, you have no right to demand things of me-"

"It would be wise of you to remember your place," he cut me off. I felt as if the blood in my veins ran cold. "You may return on your own or I will ensure that you do."

"Lord Morpheus," I scoffed. "How could you possibly be so selfish-"

My words were cut off as a cloud of sand surrounded me. It felt as if I had no opportunity to realize what was happening before I was suddenly standing back in the Dreaming.

It was darker than I remembered. Colder. It was clear that some work had been done since it had started to crumble to pieces years ago, but something was still very clearly wrong.

I would have been more worried about the state of the realm if I had not been so consumed by my anger.

I still had a million things to say to Morpheus. Explanations and accusations and pleas. All of them equally important... and all of them going equally unheard.

I had relented to bothering him and Lucienne. I had been told over and over that there was no time. That I needed to get back to what I had been created for.

But I had experienced so much beyond that now. I couldn't just let it go.

I was upsetting them. I knew it. It was a shame that I didn't feel any guilt over that.

It wasn't until the dust settled around the Corinthian's actions and the Vortex that Morpheus ever decided to speak with me.

I walked into the main hall with my heart almost in my throat. I tried to calm myself down. It wasn't going well. I had been so angry before this. So focused on his refusal that now that I would be able to talk to him, I lost every argument that I wanted to make.

Terrified felt like both a word that was too intense and not intense enough.

When I made it there, he was standing at the top of his stairs, staring up at the large stained-glass windows in the room. I took a deep breath.

"You asked to see me, sir," I called.

Morpheus turned around and began walking down the steps. "Yes. There is a discussion that needs to be had."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What about, sir?"

"About your place here in the Dreaming," he replied.

"Oh?"

"When I sent you back to the Dreaming, I was focused on rebuilding the realm," he explained. "It had fallen apart during my absence, and I knew that returning the dreams that had escaped would aid in returning it to where it was meant to be.

"I understand now that my actions were selfish. My assumption that the world would be the same as it was before my imprisonment led me to ignore the wishes and knowledge of those who cared for me and the realm as a whole. The results were heartless. Blind."

I didn't respond. I was still uneasy about the meeting. He stepped forward a bit.

"The Dreaming was never as kind to you as I wished it to be," he muttered. "I am sorry for not addressing that. For not protecting you as I always should have."

"Thank you," I murmured. Having him acknowledge it would have been enough for the time being. However, that was not the only thing that Morpheus had to say.

"I wish to send you back," he continued. "Back to that life that you had made for yourself in the waking world. If you will allow me to do so."

I felt tears fill my eyes. "Sir, are you being serious?"

A small grin formed on his face. "Yes."

I let out a breathy, shocked laugh before quickly moving forward and hugging him as tightly as I could. I had forgotten any formal behavior or respectful actions in that moment. I almost pulled back and apologized but was stopped by him hugging me back and chuckling to himself.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"You have nothing to thank me for."

I stepped back slowly, smiling fully at him. "When can I leave?"

"Whenever you are ready."

"Now?"

"Are you ready now?"

"Yes."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of sand. "Well, then I believe that the only thing left is to wish you good luck."

"Thank you, Lord Morpheus."

He nodded to me once before holding out his hand and blowing a handful of sand at me.

I closed my eyes as the sand swept up around me. As the wind died down, I opened my eyes again. I found myself in the hall of my apartment building.

I smiled again before rushing to the door. I found my spare key under the welcome mat and quickly made it inside.

I let out a sigh as I looked around. Everything was exactly how I'd left it. It was all perfect. Not a speck out of place.

I chuckled to myself as my tears filled my eyes.

I had never known peace like that before.

And I would never be more grateful that I was finally given the chance to experience it.

------------------

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judeable-brainrot · 3 months ago

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A House in Nebraska (song fic inspired by Ethel Cain (mother))

Cowboy!Art Donaldson x Cowboy!Patrick Zweig | this is a really angsty thing but i’m back in my Ethel Cain era so let me live my life..enjoy!😝

Labored breaths and bed sores, sing it to me all day long | When the aching sound of silence used to be our favorite song | You and me against the world, you were my man and I your girl | We had nothing except each other, you were my whole world

Patrick and Art had always had a peculiar relationship compared to most other men on the ranch. They did ever job assigned as one, making ever endeavour a two person job. They slept in the same cabin, in the same room, in the same bed. And while they garnered funny looks and whispers from the other cowboys and ranch hands, one quick glare from Patrick was enough to silence any actual comments. Other men in the same cabin knew that they were not to disturb their room, no matter what distressing or stomach flipping sounds were heard from the other side of the door. Little would they ever know how deeply they actually felt for one another.

Usually during late nights, they would both lay together in the dark, the light of the moon slipping through the window over their bare bodies. They lay there in each other's arms, breathing in the still western air. No words were spoken, no moans or whimpers or pleas. Just a easy silence blanketed over the both of them as they dreamed and imagined life outside of the hills and plains of Nebraska. A world for just the two of them

Then the day came and you were up and gone | Where you told me even if we died tonight, that I'd die yours

But of course, nothing lasts forever. Eventually, due to a pressure of a promotion and the homophobic environment taking its toll, Art was gone. Left early one morning, no goodbye, no note left behind. Patrick awoke cold and alone and without his home. Sure, the cabin was still standing, but his real home was gone with the wind and he never knew if he would come back to house him. He cried for days, not leaving his bed. He locked the door so the other ranch hands wouldn't barge in to bother him. He lay there miserable, thinking of all their moments together.

Nights together where they felt like the only two people alive. Their first meeting where Patrick made Art laugh so hard and he swore then and there he would hear that laugh everyday for the rest of his life. The last night they were together making love and Art said that if someone barged in and found them out, at least he would die devoted to Patrick. He'd never cum so hard in his life than when he heard those words. And now he was here.

Your mama calls me sometimes to see if I'm doing well | And I'd lie to her and say that I'm doing fine | When, really, I'd kill myself to hold you one more time | And it hurts to miss you, but it's worse to know that I'm the reason you won't come home

Patrick got a few calls from Art's mother, asking where he was, how he was. That meant he hadn't gone home to New Rochelle. He was gone, truly. She asked how he was doing and Patrick would lie and say he was doing good, work keeping him busy. But that was all a facade. He was miserable and every night when he returned to that empty, cold bed, he felt the thought of taking his own life well up so strong it nearly brought him to his knees.

He would sleep but all he could dream of was a vast expanse of field where he stood alone calling Art's name for hours. He felt responsible, like he had driven Art away somehow. He replayed every last interaction, conversation, touch, searching for anything that would help him understand why he had left. But there was nothing. It made him sick.

You know, I still wait at the edge of town | Praying straight to God that maybe you'll come back around | I cry every day and the bottles make it worse | 'Cause you were the only one I was never scared to tell I hurt

Patrick would often ride his mare to the top of the tallest hill in the valley and sit there for hours, the wind whipping against his skin. He would sit there and pray for Art's return, hoping that being so high up would make God answer his prayer quicker. He doesn’t. Patrick turns to drinking, the next best option for drowning his sorrows, but that too isn’t helpful. It’s painful. He gets drunk and imagines Art is there, cooing into his ear to be safe, not get too drunk. His hands on his body, soothing and soft and gentle. Patrick cries every time. He sobs into the pillow that used to be Art’s and whispers all his pain into it, like he used to do with Art. Art was the only one who knew his pain.

And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night | But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright

It’s close to 3 months when it hits Patrick one day. The sorrowful peace. Art’s never coming back to him. And he feels..better. Okay. A piece of his heart is always going to be missing without him, always. But all he can do is get on with his life and hope that Art is doing alright, wherever he ended up. Hope that he knows that he still loves him no matter what. Hope that he knows that even despite how lonely and broken he’s become, he’s still devoted to him until the reaper catches up to him. Maybe then, he’ll see him again.

#challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #artrick #cowboy au #first day of college and i spend it writing this

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hummusxx · 1 year ago

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Yes sir +18 Pt 3 of Gorgeous (previous part) (next part)

Summary: When trying on clothes with Jude, tension is bound to happen.

Warnings: Jealousy, smut with plot (sorry). f receiving, d in v, unprotected s$x (wrap your willy and protect the city), Angry Jude. mirror s$x.

Hummus' corner This is so late I'm so sorry!!! This is my first time writing actual descripted smut like this so please be kind. Love y’all l

(Jude's Pov)

She's the most beautiful girl in the world. Watching her rummage through the racks on racks of clothes in the dressing room is oddly satisfying.

As she walks over to the mirror and looks at the clothes she has pulled out, all i can think about is how good she would look again-

"Jude?"

I snap out of my trance and look at her.

" You seemed lost" she stares at me concerningly. " Are u alright?"

"Yeah- I'm fine" I say rubbing my hands on the jeans I'm wearing.

"Well if you're so alright can u help me." she says while looking at me through the reflection of the mirror.

"Sure, what is it" I stand up and make my way towards her. When she sees me coming, she turns around.

This is my chance. I lean in just a bit but as i do this she says- "I need you to go pick out some jewelry that will match a black and white blazer dress with ruffles.

"oh um okay i can do that" I say awkwardly and scratch my neck.

"great-well um chop chop" she says jokingly as i turn around and leave the dressing room.

'fuck'

(Y/n's Pov)

What the actual fuck was that

Was he trying to kiss me… and why do I feel so hot all the sudden.

As i stare at myself wondering if what just happened was dreaming a male associate comes in

"Miss. Y/L, I couldn't help but notice that u seem at bit lost. Is there anything that we can do for you?" he says while interring the dressing room and placing more champagne in my already empty glass and picking up the empty plate

The sliders are long gone from Jude and I eating them. Well, mostly Jude.

"No. I am alright-' I try to figure out his name.

"James, ma'am"

"James, thank you but I am alright just got caught in my own thoughts." I look back at the blazer i am holding and bring it up to my body once again.

"If you and your partner need anything please let us know"

"Oh, he's not my-"

"Y/n i got you stuff. Can i come in?" I hear Jude say behind the curtain of the gigantic dressing room.

"Yes come in." I responded while turning from the mirror and walking towards Jude.

"i got u- who's this?" Jude asks while abruptly stopping what he was going to say before

"Hello I'm James. I am an associate here at cha-"

"Yeah, i don't care." Jude says while looking annoyed at James who is just only trying to help

"Jude!" i sneer at him

"What he just comes in your dressing room without asking if you're decent or not. What a geezer" his brummie accent coming out more now that he's mad

"I can leav-"

"Please" He turns to look from me at James who looks petrified.

James leaves the room petrified. I don't blame him. Jude looks like a lion ready to pounce.

"Jud-"

"No Y/n. He could have been a creep wanting to see what's mine."

Wait. What's his?

"I'm not yours" I look at Jude confused. What does he mean by this. He starts to walk closer to me. The jewelry i asked him to get is long forgotten and placed neatly on the coffee table.

He grabs me by the shoulders and turns me look at myself in the mirror. He takes the blazer out of my hand and throughs it acros the room.

"Jude that is expensive you can't just-" He starts to attack my neck with kisses and bites.

"Jude" i breath out a moan. "I've been waiting to do this ever since i saw you yesterday" he says in between kisses on my neck. I lean my head on his neck as i watch him venture down my stomach.

He turns me around so we can lock lips. I through my hands over his neck, Deeping the kiss. It feels like forever before we brake for air. We both are breathing heavily.

He starts to peel off his shirt while looking at me with hunger. he pulls me to the couch facing the mirror and lays me on it.

He climbs on top of me, and we connect our lips again.

"Off" he says motioning for my pants. I lift my hips and he help me take off my pants. I am left in purple laced panties and a blouse.

He rips my shirt without warning. Now leaving me in my laced black bralette.

"Jude!" I yell at him. "What? We are in a store i can buy you another one" he chuckles and starts to admire my body. Rubbing his hands all over my breasts and mid-section.

"You are so fucking pretty-may i" he motions to take of my panties. I nod in a response. "No baby- I need an answer."

"Yes"

"Yes what"

"Yes sir"

He takes off my panties and runs his fingers on my clit. I instantly moan. "You're already so wet for me" he smirks as he sees the mess, I've made of myself. He bends down to go in-between my legs-his eyes never leaving mine.

He sucks on the inside of my thighs. Just this makes me want to cum. He starts to make his way to my cunt. He licks a long stripe and that almost send me overboard.

At this point, I'm embarrassed but turned on. People can most definitely hear us from outside.

I'm a moaning mess while he continues to lick and suck on my clit "Jude-" I moan.

"I know baby, let it out for me" Jude says in between licks while going faster than he was before.

"JUDE!" i yell out as i reach my climax he keeps going to, i pull at his head until he finishes and gets up from his spot between my legs.

He roughly pulls me up off the couch, my legs wobbling from what just happened moments ago. He leads me to the mirror.

He puts me up against the mirror, my ass out, boobs pressed, and legs spread.

He roughly pulls of his pants and boxers.

"Are u-" "Yes" I respond already knowing what he was going to ask. I've had way too many scares to not be.

He grabs his dick and all i can do is open my mouth at how big it is. "You ready he" he says while lining his dick up to my hole. "yes "I breath out.

He pushes inside me, and I let out a big moan. He bottoms out and lets me get adjusted.

"You okay" he asks while kissing my next

"Yes-move please i need it" I say while wiggling my hips.

He grabs my hips with his hand and starts to thrust in and out of me. I moan as he does this, every time he picks up speed.

He is now going to fast i can't even speak. "You like that" he says while grabbing a fist full of my hair, forcing me to arch more

"Yes, oh god yes" I moan as he reaches places that no man as reached before.

"Good. this will teach you for letting that man in here." Jude says roughly has he continues to pound me so hard my ass turns red. He slaps my ass and I moan so loud the whole store can know what we are doing.

"Jude I'm cumming!" I'm a mess. My hair is all messy and my makeup smudge. "Hold it" he demands. I whine and he slaps my ass again and goes faster.

I whine and do as told, "I can't please" i whine some more, the pressure building in my stomach is becoming too much.

Jude grabs my neck a whisper in my ear "Cum baby". I cum so hard on his dick. He rides out my high before he reaches his climax. He releases inside me a stand there. We are pushed up against the mirror.

I take in my state. I have hickeys all along my neck, lipstick all around my mouth, mascara coming down my face. I look like a wreck.

Jude pulls out and sticks his finger in me. I jerk forward. "Can't let anything spill put baby" he says while looking at me through the mirror. I roll my eyes at him.

He moves over to where his boxers lay. Putting them on and then searching for my panties. He finds them and hand em' to me.

"Thanks" I say embarrassed. Everyone probably knows how much of a whore i am right now. Getting dicked down at channel headquarters.

Jude grabs my chin after I put on my panties. "Don't be embarrassed love. I've been wanting to do that ever since I've seen you." he says while rubbing my cheek with his thumb.

He pulls me in for a soft kiss. I kiss back. He helps me find my shirt and other clothes laying around.

"Well, that wasn't a productive try on" i say laughing while putting on my shoes. "What are you on about i would say that was pretty productive " he laughs and so do i.

"Do you want to grab dinner with me later." he says nervously as i look at him with wide eyes "I mean you do-"

I grab him and kiss him hard. "Of course. It's a date" I say and then while walk out of the dressing room to meet stares.

"Okay I'll text you" I hear Jude yell from the dressing room.

"Why is everyone staring" i say with a smirk. Rose laughs and looks at me. They all get back to what they were doing.

"Shall we" I say to Rose.

"We shall madam" she says while hooking her arm with mine.

"You need to tell me everything" Rose says as we make it to the car.

I just roll my eyes and look at the window, thinking about the date I have later.

Humussxx' Corner

THANK GOD I FINISHED THIS. this felt like it took me YEARS but at least i did it. Smut it actually so embarrassing to write but we live. Please don't be too hard on this. It's my first-time writing smut and i don't feel like going back and editing things. Okay BYEE

#jude bellingham #hummusxx' corner #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #football #real madrid #hey jude #jb5 #hala madrid #Paris #fast food #fashion

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 8 months ago

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Just because I got this scene in my head now that I've added more ships to my multishipping pile:

Eddie Munson was now cleared of all charges. It helped that Vecna's victims weren't actually dead. Their dead bodies had been nothing more than illusions while Vecna pulled them to the other side. He had used their trauma to gain more power, and in turn, they turned it around to kill him from the inside out. It seemed like that would be the craziest thing that would have happened to Eddie, but no, the craziest thing in the world was him sitting in Steve Harrington's living room.

He was still mostly healing from the bat bites, but he was eager to move around, and he quickly accepted Steve’s offer to hang out. He couldn't decide which was crazier though, befriending Steve or Chrissy sitting next to him with her arm around him as she twirled a lock of his hair. Yeah, Eddie was dating Chrissy now. Her leg was thrown over Eddie's gently while Eddie ran his nails over her leg. She wanted him. HIM!

"You know, he looks at you like you're going to float away," Steve said dryly.

"Poor thing, he still can't comprehend that we're together now," Chrissy giggled. "He'll get there eventually."

"Doubt it," Steve smirked.

Eddie opened his mouth to say something to Steve when his front door opened and Nancy came barreling into the living room. She sat down next to Steve.

"Well, I turned in my article. I really hope this changes the views that the court of public opinion have on you," Nancy said.

"I doubt it," Eddie said with a snort. "Thanks for trying, Nancy. So, I've been bedridden for a while, catch me up. I heard Hopper rose from the grave. Seems like that's a thing that's catching on."

"Yeah, he and Joyce eloped," Steve said.

"Aw, and I missed it," Eddie whined.

"Well, it was only them and their kids," Nancy said.

"Aw, well, I feel better then," Eddie grinned. "Good for them."

"Dustin and Suzie broke up," Steve said.

"Aw, seriously? The shrimp wouldn't shut up about her, I figured that would have lasted forever," Eddie said.

"Well, her dad kind of insisted on it," Nancy said with a wince.

"Aw, hell, poor kid," he said. "Anything else? Did anyone else break up? Did anyone get pregnant? Gasp! Did someone turn out to be related to someone?"

"Jesus, Eddie, I didn't take you for a gossip," Steve said.

"He's been watching nothing but soap operas," Chrissy replied.

"Only because there's nothing else on," Eddie said quickly.

"And telenovellas," she said.

"How else am I supposed to keep up with my spanish?" Eddie said. "Okay, new topic. What's going on with you two?"

Nancy and Steve shared a look with each other.

"Jonathan's going to be by in a little bit. Are you going to be able to handle that?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I be?" Steve scoffed, giving her a weird look, and then she whispered in his ear. "Yeah, of course, I can keep myself together with him around."

"Oh, shit, what happened?" Eddie asked.

"Well, you know, Jonathan's been my boyfriend for a while," Nancy said. "And he wasn't exactly happy when I told him Steve told me he had feelings for me in the Upside Down."

"Oh, fuck, I think that's my fault. I told Steve to go for it. I swear, I didn't know you were still with Byers," Eddie said.

"Eddie!" Chrissy exclaimed.

The front door opened and closed. Eddie's eyes widened. Nancy quickly got up and went into the hallway to talk to Jonathan. They couldn't hear what they were saying, but their whispers were quite heated. Nancy came back into the living room, looking nervous. Jonathan came in and looked at Steve in annoyance. Steve stood up and walked over to them, placing a hand on Nancy's shoulder while Jonathan did the same.

"Harrington," Jonathan muttered bitterly.

"Byers," Steve spat.

They moved closer together, staring each other down.

"Oh, no! Please, don't fight!" Chrissy squeaked, but she didn't get up, only watched.

Eddie had moved to the edge of his seat, his eyes wide.

"Please, it doesn't have to be this way," Nancy pleaded.

"I'm afraid it does," Steve said seriously.

Eddie was ready to stand up and intervene when they moved at the same time. Jonathan and Steve wrapped their arms around each other as they pulled each other into a hard kiss.

"What the fuck?!" Eddie exclaimed as Chrissy gasped. "This is a goddamn plot twist!"

Jonathan and Steve pulled away with a grin. Nancy was smiling as they wrapped an arm around her.

"Isn't this great?" Nancy grinned.

"We don't have a problem with it," Eddie said slowly. "Do you have a problem with it?"

"Of course not," Nancy laughed.

"You really fucking had us," Eddie said.

"Well, when you revealed to us that you liked soap operas, I couldn't resist," Nancy laughed.

"Oh, so all of that was just on the spot?" Eddie asked. "Jesus, you work fast."

"That's what they said," Nancy giggled as she stared at Steve and Jonathan. "That kiss wasn't a bit. We're all together so there is no problem."

"Oh my God, this was better than General Hospital," Eddie muttered into his hands.

"What Eddie means to say is that we're happy for you," Chrissy said.

"Oh, yeah, that too," Eddie said.

Nancy laughed as she started to tell them about the night the three of them got together. Correction, this was the craziest thing to happen to Eddie.

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