#and showing they love each other regardless

[burymagdalene]

Crazy Little Thing Cold Love - S. Reid x Reader

Where the fierce cold brought by their holiday with the team to a ski lodge leads reader and Spencer to seek warmth in more ways than one in their room. Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: Fluff and Smut (18+ pls pls) tags: softdom!Spence, fingersucking, dry humping, lots of messy kissing, fingering, oral (fem receiving), handjob, piv sex, overstimulation (I can’t help it), praise, fluff, of course, they love each other big time! wc: 6.1k. a/n: I genuinely did not think more than 20 people would read my last (first) fic, I was smiling ear to ear and stalked everyone who liked it basically. I hope this isn’t too long. I don’t know what the fic length sweet spot is. Anyway, I was imagining our pretty boy in the Alaska episode 5x21 while writing this. MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMAL

Despite not knowing how to ski, when Spencer invited you to join him and his team for a quick holiday to a ski lodge in Colorado, you nearly melted in excitement. 

You’re over at Spencer’s apartment, bag readily in hand, watching him try to find outfits for this occasion. “Well.. I’m not going to be skiing, so I think regular clothes will be fine, hm?”

“Just bring a couple sweaters or something, that’s what I did. And a swimsuit.” You comment as you lay on your stomach on his bed, scrolling through your phone. Spencer takes his head out of his closet to spin and look at you.

“I didn’t even think about that. Of course. Thank you.” He mumbles and walks to his dresser, unsure if he even has swim trunks here. In his bottom drawer he digs through ridiculous ties and socks he’s forgotten about and begrudgingly finds the only swim trunks he had since highschool.

You scoot your body towards the end of his bed, leaning your head over to look at the way-too-short purple swim trunks he’s holding up with an unmistakably gloom look on his face. “Oh… you have to try those on. Right now.” You request through giggles. 

Spencer stands up slowly placing the trunks in front of the trousers on his legs to see how the size difference from a pre-pubescent Spencer contrasts to now. How badly he’s about to be humiliated in front of his coworkers. 

It’s nothing too horrifying, just blatantly un-Spencer in a way that has you both laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Seeing your boyfriend in short shorts has yet to occur! Regardless, Spencer slips off his slacks and pulls the shorts over his legs, jumping to put pants on for the first time in his life.

Spencer does not look bad. The shorts are too high up, he has probably grown about 6 inches since he picked these out. The tag is still on, he’s never even worn them. They sit nicely fitted on his upper thighs and he has his hands covering his face laughing as he shows you. In an over exaggerated manly voice you laugh out a “do a little spin for me hot stuff” at a groaning Spencer.  

“Babe,” Spencer laughs “I cannot be seen in these. In front of my highly respected team as well. In front of… Morgan.” He begins to take them off and throws them into his duffle bag anyway. 

“Noooo you gotta. Plus it’ll probably be just the two of us in the hot tub or whatever at a time. We’re not all going to be sitting in it together. At least I hope not…” You giggle a bit at the image. You have to give Spencer props though, him a few years ago would’ve cancelled his RSVP or purposefully left the swimsuit at home leaving him to a trip of staying in a random log cabin reading. 

It’s not for a case, so the team does not have access to their own plane, making it so that you and Spencer are doomed to wake up at 5am to meet everybody at the airport. You give out multiple sleepy sidehugs, unable to believe how equipped everyone is at waking up at unbearable hours. With this though you are able to sleep through the flight from D.C. to Colorado just fine using Spencer as your pillow. 

The ski lodge made you gasp when you arrived. Snow that was not present in D.C. covered every inch of the area; two levels of wooden panels lead to a huge snow slope behind the lodge. Through many “ooh’s” and “aah’s” it was finally revealed that only Rossi, Hotch, and JJ knew how to ski. Though, Emily and Morgan were equally as interested in learning from the best. This left you, Garcia, and Spencer to inside activities; watching your friends ski, groaning at lack of cell service (Garcia), reading, and the wonderfully heated pool and hottub that rested on the porch overlooking the slope. This, of course, made everyone squeal. 

Rooms were doubled up and you and Spencer unpacked your bags chatting with Morgan who was leaning against the doorway regarding ski tricks.

“If you’re so uncoordinated and haven't touched a slope in your life, why would you care about how skiing can aid astronauts mobility?” Morgan questioned Spencer's rambling about astronauts who have experience with skiing and had an easier time walking on the moon. 

“Well I’m not walking on the moon anytime soon either I just think it’s fascinating that cross country skiing-”

“What is that?” Morgan interrupts Spencer when a sweater covering his trunks in his bag gets put away, revealing the tiny purple fabric. You start giggling as Spencer sighs. Morgan walks into the room and picks them up from his bag. “What does this sweet girl have you wearing for her, Reid?” He teases.

Spencer definitely grabs them from his hands “Nothing! I got them when I was in highschool, I don’t go swimming a lot.” He sighs and looks down at you shaking his head as if to say “what did I say?” without speaking. 

Morgan relents seeing Spencer's face redden a bit. “Ah, pretty boy, well, this look might be good for you, I can’t wait.” He exits laughing after ruffling Spencer's hair. 

Spencer plops down on the bed next to you, scooping you in his arms. “This better be the most heavenly hot tub I’ll ever experience…” he sighs into your neck. You wrap your arms around him too, running your nails softly over his back and whisper back “Oh stop. You deserve a break, it will be.”

Later that day after playing a few rounds of Spades, everyone decides it's time to face the cold, put on gear and ski. Or watch them from the patio. It’s amusing even though you have no concept of how they’re going down with such elegance. It almost looks too easy for them. You have two sweaters on and a ski coat. Apparently, coming out with one sweater and a coat was so offensive to Spencer that he made you tack on another layer. “You’re the coldest person I know, please add another, baby”. Spencer, who was bundled up himself, pleaded as you spun around on your heels to redress yourself without protest because you know he’s right. 

With your chin tucked into your hands, pressed between Penelope and Spencer, you all take on the roles of pseudo-Olympic commentators to pass the time. The horrible butchered transatlantic accent coming from you all worsened by the warmed eggnog held between cold palms. Spencer eagerly grins as he sees Morgan stumble a bit in his boots, “Yikes, not a good start for Morgan, whose first Olympics is this year. Now wait, wait, it is down to the wire but…YES, it looks like Morgan has gone for the gold and succeeded. Such a momentous moment in the young athletes career-”

Penelope slaps Spencer's arm, doubled over laughing at the fake news anchor voice he has adapted for this role he has put on. “Stop, stop, he’s going to get mad at you!” You all wipe the smiles off your faces and put on fake serious ones as Morgan trudges back up the slope, looking more suspicious than if you had just kept laughing. He shakes his head in disappointment towards the three of you.

All sort of tipsy and numb from the cold decide to go back inside. The rigorous ski activities today coupled with the early morning, causes the rest of the team to head to bed early. You and Spencer run towards your room at the same time, pushing past each other in the door frame as you try to stumble into warmth. 

You slide your coat off and plummet to the ground to turn on the space heater with a speed as though it was a bomb you had 3 seconds left to disarm. You put your hands near it to warm them, looking up from the floor to Spencer who is smiling down at you from the bed. He silently motions with his head for you to sit over by him.

Whining and pulling yourself away from the heater, you get up and stand between Spencer's slightly open legs. He places his arms behind him and slouches back on his palms to get a better look at your face from where you’re standing. He tilts his head innocently to the side and squints at you. “Is somebody too cold? I would’ve never guessed that…” 

Scoffing and pulling your arms around yourself to conserve heat you mumble back “Noooo… I mean. Just my hands. Hah, they feel like they’re made out of molasses.” Spencer gives a mocking sort of pitied smile up at you, which you ignore by the good graces in your heart. He shifts his weight back onto one hand and slips one of his chilled palms up the front of your sweater to your waist. You wince at the juxtaposition between your flushed skin under your layers and his icy hand. 

You grab his wrist from under your sweater with an icier hand. “Don’t… torture me.” You beg at him. He furrows his eyes together and pouts, as if the idea of removing his hand from the curve of your waist would drain all the blood from his veins. Spencer hums and takes it off anyway, sitting up straight and taking both of your wrists into his hands, placing them together so he can cover your hands with his, moving back and forth to spark some friction into them.

The heat starts quickly from your fingertips to your wrists and you hum in content. Spencer whispers a “Yeah, you’re okay,” in response. “Your hands are freezing, I’m sorry angel.” Very malleable from the sweet heat you’re finally getting, Spencer continues to move your hands so that your palms are facing his face now. He kisses your fingertips softly, the warmth from his mouth makes you let out an almost silent moan. 

“S’that nice?” He looks up into your eyes, you still standing there like if you moved all the heat you’ve accumulated on this spot of the floor would vanish. You nod breathlessly. Spencer smiles at your response, not wanting to tease you further, preferring the flush in your cheeks his warmth is supplying you over his taunting. He begins to press more soft, slow kisses over your fingertips, moving your hands at his will by your wrists. 

Then there is a progression to open mouth kisses on your palms, he bends your hands down to kiss over each of your knuckles, eyelids open and trained on your face. Spencer rubs his cheek on the back of your hands and moves them again so the sensitive skin of your inner forearms are facing him. Rolling up each sleeve of your sweater, he coos at the goosebumps that raise from the air on your newly exposed skin. The kisses start from your wrists up to the crux of your inner elbow. You get a second round of goosebumps from a different source now.

You let out a rush of air at the sensitivity picking up on your arms from his mouth, from the cold. Spencer places one last kiss on your arm and nips the inside of the sensitive skin there. At this you can only make a pinched face and mutter out a simple, “Spence.”

He can’t help but grin at your placidity, he’s used to your sharp tongue, but this evening you’re nothing but soft sounds and looks. Your goosebumps soon fade as he rubs your arms up and down a few times and slides each of your sleeves back to their rightful places. “Warm?” He questions finally.

Truthfully, the space heater has kicked up enough that you don’t feel like your life's on the line anymore and you on the outside are just as warm and fuzzy as you are feeling on the inside. Still, being doted on is never something you would allow to run short if you have any say in it. “Mmm… my fingers just can’t. Get warm?” You don’t even believe yourself.

Spencer decides to take pity on you anyway through the “woe is me” act you’re executing poorly. “Ahh. Pesky things. Let me try something.” Spencer picks up your right hand again with the delicacy of picking up a butterfly and places your fingers against his lips again. This time though as he’s looking up at you and cupping your hand with both of his, he positions your middle and ring finger down so that they’re the only two pressed against his lips.

Starting off, he kisses them like before, sickly sweet, only with your warmth in mind, then ups his ante a bit. With a small parting of lips, Spencer's tongue tentatively pokes out around the fingers. He’s testing the waters. Easily, you give an eager nod of approval. 

Another hum falls from Spencer's lips as he takes your two fingers, to the second knuckle, deeper into his mouth. Sucking your fingers now and staring up at you, you shuffle yourself closer to him, straddling his legs and resting your other hand against his shoulder for purchase.

Spencer’s hands slip from yours and find a place under your sweater again, and this time you let him with no complaints. You take your hand from his shoulder and cup his jaw gently with it, guiding his head back slowly, allowing him to take in more of your fingers. Spencer sucks them gently and moans around them when your fingers grip his jaw a bit too hard. You drop the hand that’s grabbing him. One has to be careful not to bruise the jaw that’s sucking their fingers. Something like that.

Letting go with a gentle pop, Spencer takes a breath of air and pushes his face up to meet yours in a wet kiss. Your wet fingers cup his face as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. 

“Mmpf-” You groan, pain spreading lightly in your mouth now. You briefly think of your first kiss, how feather-light it was that you hardly even felt him there with how tentative he was. After all this time you’ve enabled this boyfriend of yours to use his teeth to nip you like a territorial kitten who is privy to love biting. 

With an open mouth you kiss him hard in a rebuttal that has him smiling against your lips. “Hmm, don’t groan, you’re not going to break,” he wraps his arms around you fully, moving his mouth to your ear now, “helpless little lamb-” his voice gentle despite his mocking candace. 

You don’t feel like baring your teeth, fully satisfied with allowing Spencer to push your buttons until he inevitably notices your novel docility and rewards you for it. You know him like the back of your hand. 

Wrapped in his embrace and legs open over top of him there’s an instinctual need in your brain needing you to grind down on him and a more voluntary decision bred from embarrassment that is saying too soon too soon. In the crossfire of these conflicted thoughts your thighs concoct an awkward shaky squeeze motion and immediately lift up from him. 

“Going somewhere?” Spencer says in a pretend-serious tone before snickering at you once you silently sit back down on him. He understands you just as well as you do him and slips the arms that are under your sweater to brace your hips against his. “Is this what you wanted? You can take whatever you want from me.”

Sitting back down to where you were previously on his lap you card your fingers through his hair. “How chivalrous…” you murmur against his lips before you open your mouth to kiss him again. You have learned how to utilize time being spent while kissing Spencer over the course of your relationship. Rather, you have learned how to kiss each other in a way that signals immediately to the other that you’re needing this to progress past dry humping. The way your lips are slotting together and the way he’s pulling on your lips with his is a blaring sign. 

After you let out a shuddering sigh while pulling away for a breath, Spencer uses this opportunity to usher you so that your back is flat against the bed and he’s resting his arms around your head on top of you. With one of his hands against your cheek and the other caging your head in you easily slip back into the version of yourselves that tremble with need, this desperation not well suited for either of you. Intolerable.

Spencer’s thigh is regrettably too far away for you to grind yourself against and in order to shake the throbbing at your center you wordlessly take his hand by your face and bring it down over your jeans. He takes the hint immediately cupping you so you can grind against his hand through the thick fabric. 

He likes to pull away for this part. Spencer stops kissing you so that while he’s rubbing your clit through your pants he can hear your unoccupied mouth moaning while he kisses along your jaw and neck. He thinks of it as a cheat code really, he gets to keep kissing your skin while simultaneously hearing your progression from moans caught in your throat to small whines and begs.

Surprisingly, Spencer is the first to break and ask for the fabric barriers to be discarded, which makes you proud because you’re the one who’s the most impacted by your (basically) industrial grade jeans prohibiting you from feeling your boyfriend's fingers against you. 

“Baby, these are killing me,” He’s already moving above you to unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down to around and off your ankles. “I promise I’ll keep you warm.” In all honesty you’ve forgotten about the biting wind outside and the slopes of snow toppling over, but you appreciate the sentiment regardless. The idea that being cold will genuinely stop you from having him inside you right now is laughable.

You sit up and take off your sweater and undershirt as Spencer is working on your lower half. Working as in mouthing over your cunt through your panties as you struggle to unhook your bra at the visual.

Your legs are parted, thick white socks still up to your shins, and once Spencer threw your jeans to the ground he laid between your legs to kiss and lick over your panties. You keep fumbling with the clasp whenever he sucks or kisses over your clit. Not the most efficient moment of your life. “J-Jesus, I can’t get this off.” You huff and break him out of his pussy-induced stupor. 

Spencer comes up from between your legs and shuffles over and unclasps your bra with such elegance that you can’t even comment on it because you know he’s boasting over it in his head. Instead you pull over his sweater and shakily unbutton the top half of his button up shirt while he works on the bottom half. Your hands briefly meet over his middle button and he kisses your forehead with a smile as he pops the last one open for you both. 

His own slacks are thrown off alongside yours on the floor and you both grab at each other to take off one anothers underwear in such an eager manner that you have to laugh at each other for a moment before finally sliding them off. 

Spencer guides your head with his hand behind it as you slowly lay down besides him. Knees propped up and together, he places one of his hands on the outside of your thigh, gently running his fingers tips up and down the skin. “Why don’t you go ahead and open up your legs for me?” He asks between petting your leg.

Now, he must notice that it would be too easy for him to open them for you, like he so naturally comes to do. He’s coaxed your thighs open, held them down from the backside of your knees while you squirm from his lips sucking your clit, pushed them together and to the side when you’re squeezing his sides too tight while he’s fucking you. There is something delightfully humiliating about spreading them open yourself. So eager to display for him the shiny wetness that has been coating you for a demeaning amount of time, like gifting him a bashful merit badge for his effortless work.  

You look up at him through your lashes, his eyes are fixed on the softness of your lower belly, waiting for the moment you start to move so he can see your sex being revealed the instant you do it. Pervert. Taking one of your hands away from the bed you trail it slowly from the bottom of your ribcage to the very part of your stomach that has Spencer transfixed. Teasing yourself and Spencer simultaneously, you push your hand between your closed thighs, still hiding yourself slightly, and dragging up some of the wetness you collected with your first two fingers.

This time your fingers go into your own mouth, sucking off the taste of yourself while you watch Spencer mouth breathe and the tip of his dick start to dribble. Poor thing. “I love you.” He whispers into the air, incentivizing you to just do what you’re told. 

Embarrassment flushes your chest as you part your legs for him, putting both of your arms lazily above your head, finally rewarding him with saying “I love you” back once your thighs are on opposite sides from each other and your pussy is on full display. 

He shuffles closer to you on his knees, arm reaching out to softly run his hand on the inside of your thigh. “Look at you… can I touch?” Spencer’s asking like he doesn’t know if he doesn’t you’ll die.

“I’ll die if you don’t.” He should get where you’re coming from. He smiles meekly to himself, proud, or maybe just plain excited, and spreads apart your lips with his fingers. Your toes curl in on themselves as he slides his middle finger through you, spreading your wetness and mulling your ache. It’s almost too much to watch this near-inspection and you turn your flushed cheeks to the side and look at how his dick is a matching shade of red to your face. You love this part. Tangible evidence to how he feels about you, not that you need any more, but seeing right in your face how being with you makes his thighs tense and cock heavy puts a smile on your face.

With two fingers now he’s collecting the sticky soft wetness that never stops collecting in times like these, and rubbing your clit with them in such a gentle way you scoff out a “Please-”

Immediately he gives in, he’s not a professional at avoiding your begs even when it's looking like he’s going to be in charge. Pressing his fingers harder against you he rubs faster circles onto where you’re pleading for it. “Being so bossy. We haven’t even started.” He quips, trying to gain back some of the fervor he has for being in control, not just sit back, be a good listener, and give give give. 

Your clit throbs helplessly against his fingers. Wanting them harder and faster, wanting them inside you, in your mouth, against your throat, you can’t help but whine at the possibilities montaging in your head. Spencer watches a small dribble of white essence leak from you, mutters a “Jesus” to himself and slides his two fingers off your clit to inside of you. You choke on your moan, not expecting to be so full so quickly, it’s perfect. Spencer isn’t teasingly fucking you with his fingers. He knows how to curl them, he does so. He knows to put his forearm into it in the way that makes you stamp your legs shut. He’s fucking you quickly and easily with them as you bring your hands over your face.

“There, Spence.” You mumble against your hands, biting the skin of your palm to be courteous to everyone else in the house right now.

“I know.” He pushes against that spot in you that’s made you cry and rubs with a pressure made with love. You buck your hips and let him get away with whatever he wants to do with you, but the noise coming from his fingers in you makes you want to float out of your body. 

Brows furrowed and head pressing back against the bed your hips start to twist, with a mind of their own, turning over onto Spencer's hand. This part you can’t control. “Mmm, Spencer. Okay, okay, fuck.” You’re bargaining in your own way, for something neither of you know, but Spencer figures out every time. He slips his fingers out and places them on your clit again. Wet and pruned from being inside of you, he can move fastly against it as you gasp.

“I wish you could see what I see right now. So wet. You’re about to ruin these sheets the first night, baby.” He laughs gently at you. 

“Th-then stop touching me.” You bite back. Immediately scared of the idea of him following through. 

Spencer would literally never do that. He rolls his eyes a bit and furrows his brows at you when you make eye contact. He hums and adds a third finger to rub circles against your clit, two not being enough anymore for a precise massage with how wet you are.

Moving slowly back flat against the bed, your pelvis gives up on trying to crush Spencer’s hand underneath them. When his other hand trails down to fuck you while he rubs your clit you look for a way to thank him without bringing humiliation to yourself for years to come. You feebly grip the base of his dick, palm fairly loose around him as he’s currently milking all of the strength from your limbs. 

Spencer plainly laughs at this, it’s so you. He’s making your brain leak from your ears and you can only pump him lightly a few times. The one instance where you two have tried to 69 this story ended a similar way, with his tongue doing unspeakable things while you can just moan around his dick and wetly kiss it. It’s hard to do things while he’s fucking you. 

You huff, wanting his pretty leaking dick to be getting the same amount of attention as you are. Keeping your one hand on his base to keep it from bobbing, you reach over with your other hand to rub his tip, smear himself all over the sensitive top. He’s stopped laughing now.

“Please don’t make me cum right now.” Spencer pleads softly as he starts to quickly rub your clit from side to side now instead of the circles he was doing before. Fuck, talk about a competition. Your back arches up from the bed as your hand falls limply from where it was on his tip.

Wanting to inform Spencer on how you can’t jerk him off while he’s touching you so he should just start fucking you properly is not a sentence in your capabilities right now so you try your best with a “fuck me fuck me fuck me.” Doesn’t leave much for interpretation.

He slows his fingers and pulls them away with a sad “sorry, angel…” after glancing at your sour face from the lack of stimulation you’re getting now. He slips off the bed entirely to grab a condom from his bag, and throws it on your stomach for you to open after his fingers slip trying to tear the wrapper himself from your wetness still on his fingers. 

Fully situated between your legs again now Spencer looks up at the ceiling briefly while you roll the condom on him as if saying a prayer for composure before he’s inside of you. You can’t help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.

Whenever Spencer first slides into you, you have to make sure to keep your eyes open to watch his face since he nearly always wears the same angelic face that you never get to see elsewhere. His mouth becomes a small “o”, his eyebrows are furrowed together, but not like he’s squeezing them down, they’re pulled up in a blissed out expression as his eyelids flutter closed. Heavenly.

He’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he’s pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. There’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him. Maybe you are making too much of a mess out of these poor clean sheets.

After his initial haze of trying not to come instantly, Spencer brings back down his right hand to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers. You bite down on his shoulder to keep from terrorizing your housemates. Your propped up foot, still covered in your warm socks, thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets. 

“Feel nice baby?” Spencer asks into your hair as you bite down onto him.

How he could ask you this is beyond you, though you suppose he’s indirectly asking you to feed into his praise kink. “You feel so perfect Spence,” you whine against him. “unhhh…might be a bit too obsessed with your cock” you slur and laugh a bit at the end, not sure what will do it for him. Nevertheless he lets out a choked whimper and loses his rhythm. Bingo. 

His weight is pushing you down so you can’t wiggle away from any of the stimulation he’s giving you. It accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don’t get enough time to warn him you’re close. You weren’t close really, it felt good and then you came. Sucking in air through your teeth your thighs squeeze around Spencer, who is murmuring “oh baby…” into your ear. 

You want to kick him for how good he’s making you feel. It feels unfair and you want to throw a tantrum based on how his fingers are still rubbing your twitching clit and how much you love the feeling of drowning in his pleasure. You’d never throw a tantrum though. Right now, Spencer has caught you in a completely willing mood where you’re closer to proposing to him than anything.

It’s dizzying. Your mouth is wide open in shock as you let him touch you into overstimulation and you don’t even realize it till he lets go of the vice he had on your leg and brings his free hand to put his thumb into your mouth. Latching onto it immediately, you use it as a buffer, a gag, to prevent yourself from making too much noise or mouthing off. You bite down a little on the digit and drool rolls down your lips to your chin. Spencer takes his thumb out, collects it, and pushes it back into your mouth.

Spencer reverts back to rubbing your clit back and forth with his middle and ring finger, losing purchase a few times with how wet you are, but finding his way back to your sweet spot just as quickly. You feel the second orgasm building this time around. Your eyes shoot open, you suck softly on his thumb and he looks back down at you, recognizing the pleading look in your eyes.

“Yeah. Y-yeah, angel. S’a good girl-” he gives his sort of permission and you cum so hard you don’t realize he’s finishing right behind you. 

He’s petting your hair with his hand, both wet from either your cum or your spit and you try to shove that complaint out of your head because of how sweetly he’s moaning above you as he finishes. He’s done cumming but he tends to keep sliding into you after, not ready to give up the whole experience yet. This is when you hear his prettiest sounds.

You cup his cheeks and kiss all over his face and he softly smiles and finally pulls out of you, laying on his back and scooping you on top of him. Tracing a finger over his lips softly you whisper how impossibly good he always makes you feel, how he gets you so wet that you didn’t even know you had that much in you till the tips of his ears go red and he pinches your side. 

“Open for me.” He asks one more time after shaking off the blush that has accumulated from your praises. You smile and open, finally sucking off what’s left of yourself from his fingers. He pops them into his mouth after yours without a second thought and you cannot believe this is the man who gets the heebie jeebies when he has to shake hands with someone new he meets. They should be the ones hesitant to shake his hand with where they have been.

Both feeling ridiculously sticky, you shower together, not even bothering to unpack your toiletries, just using the too-lemony-smelling products the lodge has provided you with for free. Spencer washes your hair for you so you don’t even need to complain to him about how he’s dirtied it and you both trot back over to the bed with fuzzy robes on. 

You cover your face with your hands at the unmistakable wet patches all over the sheets and Spencer collects them quickly and pops them into the washer. 

Exhausted, you both lay side by side on the barren bed as you wait for the sheets to be done. Mumbled against your lips a proposition, “I want to see you in that hot tub.” He clearly feels bad for the goosebumps littering your torso that he’s subconsciously been trying to rub away for the last twenty minutes after you left the heat of the shower. 

Blinking blankly at him for a moment in silence you purse your lips, “I was thinking about the hot tub too.” The thought of removing yourself from the room that has cold leaking back into it from the lack of physical activity now is thrilling.

Spencer laughs and sits up next to you on the bed. “Everyone is so exhausted from waking up early and skiing all day that we will be all alone so I thought now would be a good-”

“Yeah,” you nod your head enthusiastically at him. You can’t remember the last time you were in a hot tub and it sounds like a dream right now. “Let me get my suit.” You both wobbly stand up and you retrieve your swimsuit from the drawer, laughing while you toss Spencer's trunks back at him. He’s so blissed out from the sex that he doesn’t even mention the trunks, he just slips them on and heads out. 

You make Spencer step onto the freezing porch first after you demand him to take the cover off the hot tub for you both, this was his idea after all. Watching from the glass door you blow your breath onto the glass to draw a little heart with an “S” inside of it in the fog. Spencer blows you a kiss in return as he skimpers out in his purple trunks and enormous ski coat.

The alternation between walking out in a swimsuit in that ungodly temperature, into the hot jets of the hot tub feels like whiplash, but once you’re fully submerged you giggle happily and sway your hands under the water.

You and Spencer play footsie under the water like two lovesick teenagers at a pool party as you look off the balcony at the snow. You nudge him under the water a bit before talking,

“Thank you so much for bringing me to this, seriously. I feel like we’re on our honeymoon.” you joke.

Spencer hums and takes your hands into his, rubbing the outside of your hand with his thumb. “Mmm, well on our actual honeymoon I’ll probably have to take you somewhere warm to avoid all this teeth chattering.” He teases back at you, but his words have an underlying sincerity that makes you sink yourself down into the water to your chin with a smile.

“You’re gonna marry meeee,” you respond in a sing-song voice, Spencer grins back for a moment then looks at you and nods earnestly. 

“How could I not?”

[antonsintown]

ACTS OF AFFECTION - ENHYPEN MAKNAE LINE

Jungwon stares at you from across the room. Eyes set on your figure as you sketch in your book, the pencil moving forward and backward in various motions as you reach for your eraser, promptly sighing as you notice a mistake.

Small acts of service are the ways he expresses his love. Jungwon stifles a laugh as he continues watching you. The morning had barely started before you sat yourself down with your headphones, effectively blocking out the rest of the world as you made sure to work in silence. The smile that rested on his face did nothing to hide his adoration for you.

He shows his affection when he hands you an ointment to ease the cramps on your hand after a long day of drawing or simply filling your empty bottle with water to keep you hydrated. No matter how small or big the gesture, you felt the sentiments behind them, never failing to put a smile on your face.

Other times, he's slightly worried you'll overwork yourself. In times like these, he simply likes to lightly tug your headphone away from your ear, placing a small kiss on your cheek as he hugs you, "Hey, wanna catch a break?"

And you can't ever really bring yourself to say no once you're in his embrace, looking up at him with stars in your eyes as you nod, maybe being an artist could wait for a few minutes.

__

Sunoo pouts and sighs for the hundredth time today as he peers at you, working on your newest fashion line. Yes, he is slightly bothered by the lack of attention you're giving him but, he does understand that you have to work.

But whoever said letting you work would entail him completely leaving you alone? Sunoo is already grinning as you he pulls out a cake, sitting across you on the dining table as he feeds you a piece. What a silly guy.

Sunoo's actions of love are never overbearing nor are they too modest to the point no one notices that you're even dating each other. He often likes showering you with compliments, loving you regardless of your insecurities. He will always reassure you no matter what.

Sunoo often admires you for your hard work but, he slightly worries when you push yourself too hard. Sometimes, he just likes to make a silly situation to get you laughing because, what's life if not a little bit of silliness.

Often times than not, you're left laughing in his arms, wondering how he was always so energetic, smiling at him as you shake your head, "You're actually an idiot." But you love him regardless, he knows it too.

__

Niki is currently very absorbed in his tenth round of smash bro's with the other members, laughing at them as he aggressively presses down on the buttons on the poor old tattered controller.

He's laughing until he realises he's been hearing the basketball bouncing off the ground for a good 3 hours that he's been playing, his eyes darting to the clock as he excuses himself, looking at you with a small smile as he watches you throw hoops again.

Niki is bold and shy in his loving all at once. He's pinching your cheeks, pressing soft kisses to get a reaction out of you, teasing you in front of his members but, on other occasions, he's blushing hard as he intertwines his fingers with yours, heart beating right out of his chest.

Niki often worries about you when you push yourself too hard. He knows you can take care of yourself but there will always be a part of him worrying. Although his brain is usually clouded with worries, he always thinks of ways to make you laugh your stress away.

Worried about a match? He'll come dressed up as your team's mascot. Worried about your ankle sprain? He'll treat you like a princess and carry you around everywhere. Some people ask him why he does so and he's always left speechless, why else other than the plain fact that he loves you? He wonders why they even bother asking such a dumb question.

"You look so stupid right now." You laugh as he carries you, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he supports your weight on his back easily. He's dressed in your team's mascot uniform as he grins back at you. "And? I get to take care you and that's all I really care about."

(a/n) : no one mention the fact that i wrote more than i should've for niki 🙏🙏

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two

I'm bored so [smashes plate] ANOTHER! I've been writing this faster than I thought I would 🤭 Hope everyone is having lovely and relaxing holidays xx

Warnings: just angst and the case progressing! Hotch is kinda an asshole but it's just how they show their love to each other xoxo

“You and Hotch still got it, huh?” Morgan teases, leaning his head over to grin at you. Part of you missed car rides with Derek, and the other part of you remembers just how much of a little shit he can be.

“Shut up and look at the road,” you mutter, pushing his face away from you.

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” Derek taps the wheel, shaking his head to get your hand off him. “What is it with you two, anyway?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “We’ve never gotten along, you know that. You were there when we met.”

“Uh, yeah, I remember being glad Hotch got all the heat instead of me,” Derek chuckles. “You’re intimidating when you’re pissed off.”

“Good,” you say, smirking. “That’s the point.”

“Alright,” Derek says, letting the topic go. For now. “We’ve got five minutes ‘til we reach her house. What are we telling her?”

“Well, I want to take a look around, if you’d like to talk.”

“I can stall,” Derek nods.

“Five bucks says there will be no pictures of the father in the house, at least not in the living area or hallway, where family photos most commonly are.”

“You sound like Reid,” Morgan quips.

“Our IQ’s are really close,” you remind him. “I just don’t have a damn eidetic memory. That shit is insane. I don’t envy him there.”

“Me either,” Derek shakes his head. “I remember things plenty without a magic memory.”

“I hear that.”

Derek turns into the driveway of Lila’s home. One car is in the driveway, a silver Ford. Her mom’s car.

“Ready?” Derek asks.

“Never,” you reply, opening your door. “But it’s our job.”

Derek knocks on the front door, but stands back so you’re the first face the mom will see. Given who her ex-husband is, you suspect she might be distrustful of all men, regardless of whether or not they’re here to help.

As expected, the mom eyes Morgan’s badge more closely than yours.

“May we come inside?” you ask.

“Yes,” she says, pulling the door open to let you both inside. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Morgan says politely.

After shutting the door, the mom begins talking — rambling incoherently, more like.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, dropping her off at school this morning. I knew something felt off when I woke up, it just— I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Ma’am,” Derek says. “Please, sit down.”

“I can’t,” she says, waving both of her hands like windshield wipers in front of her body. “I need to pace. Helps me think better.”

Derek looks at you, and you shrug. She’s obviously too wound up to sit down. Which is a good sign. If she was indifferent or resigned, there would be a bigger issue at hand. Clearly, she had no idea this would happen, so she definitely wasn’t in on it.

You take a look around the living room while Derek calms the mother down, mostly just letting her ramble, and take mental notes of what to ask her about later.

As you predicted, there are no photos with the father in the picture. All of them are the mother and Lila, mostly baby photos. Lila is a pre-teen, she clearly doesn’t want her photo taken. There is one where Lila looks older, but she’s not happy.

You take a closer look. She’s really unhappy.

“Mrs. Monroe?” You turn toward her, a sympathetic smile on your lips. “Has Lila been depressed lately?”

Her mom nods. “She’s been struggling ever since uhm— Ever since her father left. I’ve had her in therapy every week, but her therapist says she’s not really opening up. She might later, but right now she just doesn’t talk at all. She doesn’t want to.”

“I understand,” you murmur. “You’ve done the right thing by getting her help. Even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”

“She still ran away!” Mrs. Monroe cries.

“Please,” you move toward her, resting your hand on her arm. “Let’s sit. Can Agent Morgan get you a glass of water?”

She nods, looking up at Morgan. “Thank you.”

Derek disappears into the kitchen.

“What makes you think Lila ran away? Other than her mood, were there any other signs?”

Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “She’s talked about it before, told me she wanted to run away and that she hated me. I thought therapy would help with that, but it hasn’t.”

“Would her father help her at all? Run away, I mean.”

“Richard?” Mrs. Monroe asks. Derek reappears with a glass of water, handing it to her. “Thank you. No, he wouldn’t, he— She doesn’t even know what he’s done. I’ve never told her.”

“Would she be capable of finding out?” Derek asks. He takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you, resting his elbows on his knees.

“No,” Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “I monitor all of her Internet searches, who she texts, who she emails, everything. She thinks I drove him away. That I didn’t love him anymore and told him to get out. She doesn’t know that it was because I caught him burying a body.” She sobs into her hand, her words barely decipherable now. “And now she’s gone and she hates me and I don’t even know where she’d go— it’s like I don’t even know my own daughter.”

You take the glass from her hand and allow her to sob into your shoulder. You know what this is like. Because you were once Lila, a runaway who left her mother in pieces until she returned home. Your circumstances were different, but not by much at all.

“We will bring her home, I promise,” you say, despite yourself. Despite not knowing what the rest of this case will entail, what else you’ll uncover. “Did Lila have any friends that you didn’t approve of?”

Mrs. Monroe shakes her head again. “She doesn’t have many friends, but she talks to one girl, Marie, almost every day.”

“Where is Marie right now?”

“At school,” Mrs. Monroe says, sniffling. “I called her mom right away. My mind went to the worst case scenario, you know, I thought Lila would grab Marie and convince her to go with her—”

“Convince?” you question. 

Derek hears you and asks the next question you have on your mind. “Does Lila ‘convince’ Marie to do things she doesn’t want to do often?”

“Sometimes,” Mrs. Monroe admits, beginning to sob again. “Oh, God.”

You share a look with Derek, not liking where this is going, but you don’t know if you’ll get much else out of her right now.

“What things would Lila convince Marie to do?” you ask.

“Just small things, I don’t know,” Mrs. Monroe replies. She’s shutting down. “I don’t know why I said that, I—”

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” you try to calm her down. “Do you mind if Agent Morgan and I take a look in Lila’s room?”

“How will that help?”

“We might be able to find something that could tell us where Lila might have gone,” Morgan explains. “Sometimes kids leave clues. We might be able to find them.”

Mrs. Monroe nods. “Okay. Can I— Is it alright if I lay down while you do that?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Come on, let’s get you to your room.”

You help her stand and walk back toward her bedroom, getting her inside. She lays down on top of the covers and shuts her eyes.

You close her door and meet Morgan back in the living room, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Y/N’s back, you’re on speaker, Hotch.”

You roll your eyes involuntarily. Hotch couldn’t leave the two of you — mainly you — alone, could he? 

“Alright, I want the two of you to stay there and go through Lila’s room. Tell us anything you find. The school has given Garcia their security camera footage; she’s going through it now. It’s like she’s disappeared into thin air and that is not good.”

“We’ll find her, Hotch,” Morgan says.

Hotch is quiet.

“Mrs. Monroe doesn’t think Richard had anything to do with this. She says Lila doesn’t even know—”

“Morgan told me,” Hotch says. “Call me back when you have something new.” He hangs up and you roll your eyes again.

“I’m gonna keep a tally of how many times you do that,” Morgan teases.

“Be my guest,” you reply. “And keep me updated. I bet it’ll be in the hundreds by the time this case is over.”

Lila’s room is everything you’d expect from a regular pre-teen girl. And reminds you too much of your room when you were her age.

It’s almost like she’s too open. Posters are everywhere. Her favorite movies, actors, and bands. Her bed is made. Her closet is neat. The desk is covered in schoolbooks, yet also clean. 

“Morgan, I know this room.”

He turns around. “What?”

“We can know everything about her from one glance. She’s organized. She loves English, hates science, but is very good at math. She likes alternative music, not boybands,” you point to the posters. “Fantasy movies only. Her closet is too neat. It’s like she’s not even living here.”

“I’m not following.”

“I think she’s been planning her escape for a long time,” you say. “Which makes me think she had help.”

“Okay,” Morgan goes with it. “From who? You heard her mom, she watches everything Lila does.”

My mom did too, you think to yourself as you pull out your phone. You already have Garcia on speed dial, something she suggested for you.

“What can I do for you, my new angel?” 

Morgan chuckles while you answer Garcia. “Can you possibly see the search history after it’s been deleted?”

“Duh,” Garcia says. “Give me the IP address and I can show you all the dirty, dirty secrets on there.”

“Perfect, I’m going now,” you leave Lila’s room, peeking in Mrs. Monroe’s room to be sure she’s still resting. She is. 

You head to the living room where you saw Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Thankfully, after wiggling the mouse, it comes right up. No password or anything.

“Okay, she must really watch what Lila does,” you mumble. As in, Mrs. Monroe must stand over her daughter’s shoulder before even letting her turn the computer on. “How do I…?”

Garcia laughs and tells you what to click to pull up the information she needs. You recite it to her and she quickly works her magic.

“Oh, no.”

“Garcia,” you reply warily. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Morgan hears you and comes into the living room. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” you glance at him. “Garcia, what is it?”

“I’m going to need a minute to go through everything but…”

“Garcia, spit it out,” you put her on speaker, lowering the volume so only you and Morgan can hear her. “Garcia?”

“I don’t know for sure, but at first glance, this looks…it looks like she wanted to go with this person.”

“Shit,” you mutter. “Okay. We’ll call Hotch, you keep digging.”

“Aye, aye.”

You turn the computer off and pocket your phone. “We need to go back to the precinct. I don’t want to risk her overhearing.”

“Okay. Good call.”

“I’m gonna let her know we’re leaving,” you say. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

You wake Mrs. Monroe briefly to let her know you and Agent Morgan are leaving. You assure her that you’re going to bring Lila home, but that you’re needed at the precinct right now, and don’t want to disturb her rest. You hand her your card, telling her the number is the same, even though it doesn’t have BAU yet on it. 

Morgan is leaning against the car when you emerge outside, sick to your stomach.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “Just hate lying to mothers.”

+++

You and Morgan decide to wait until you’re at the precinct to tell everyone what Garcia found. Better to break this news quietly in person than on the phone.

Hotch is speaking to a deputy when you walk in, but you flag him down with a nod, hoping he won’t take it personally. You’re too on edge right now to bother being irritated with him.

Once everyone is in the conference room, you shut the door.

“Garcia should be calling any minute,” you begin. “She’s going through Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Mrs. Monroe said she watches everything Lila does, but clearly not close enough, because Lila was on a popular chatting site talking with someone regularly.”

“Right she was,” Garcia joins in, having been listening on the nearby computer. Her smile is sad. “And it does not look good. I’m still digging, but a Rich34 was in constant contact with her. I’m talking every single night for hours. Mostly from 1am to 4am, while I’m assuming her mother was sleeping.”

“What do the chats say, Garcia?” Emily asks.

“Nothing more than small talk right now, but I’m digging. It’ll take a while though, sir, I’m afraid they’ve been talking for months. Almost a year, I think.”

“Dammit,” you mutter. “I was afraid of that.”

Morgan sends you a sympathetic look.

“Garcia, see if you can track Rich’s identity in any way possible. It could be her father,” Hotch says.

“Or someone posing as her father,” you suggest, earning a glare from Hotch.

“Hey Garcia, send over all the chats, I can help you look through them,” Spencer offers.

“Alright kiddo, PG out.” The line clicks.

“Reid, look for anything relating to Richard Monroe’s history, or maybe Lila’s mother. Lila and her mother haven’t been getting along, and Rich might’ve used that to get Lila away,” Hotch instructs. 

Reid nods, already leaning over to grab the chat messages off the fax machine. Garcia knows him so well; she sent over hardcopies instead of electronic.

“Do we think it’s Richard Monroe in the chat room?” Emily asks.

“I’m not convinced,” Rossi says with a small shake of his head.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “The username is too obvious.”

“He could be taunting us by using an obvious screen name,” Hotch counters. “He’s evaded us for this long. Why would he bother hiding now?”

“Yes, but I don’t think Richard Monroe is behind this,” you argue. “Murder in cold blood is his thing. So why wouldn’t he just go grab her from the house? Why is he playing the long game like this? Why form this emotional connection if he’s just going to kill her?”

“Because he’s a murderer with no regard for anyone’s emotions other than his own,” Hotch fires back. “And because he likely holds a grudge against his ex-wife for divorcing him and taking Lila away.”

Now all eyes of the team are on the two of you, going back and forth like a tennis match.

“He murders women his own age. Lila is barely thirteen. If he wanted her so badly, he could have easily grabbed her by now and killed her. Why wait almost a year?”

“Her mother is watching her closely, and he—”

“Oh now you agree that her mother is overbearing.”

“Yes, because you met with her and confirmed it with actual evidence,” Hotch snaps. He pauses, staring at you. “We cannot rule out Richard Monroe.”

“We’ll be wasting our time if we don’t.”

“Why are you so insistent?”

“Call it a gut feeling.”

“You haven’t been doing this job long enough to have a trustworthy gut feeling,” Hotch says coldly. “Now, if you want to continue arguing, I suggest you do so with the wall. Otherwise, we have a young girl to find and her father is a priority suspect. Am I clear?”

“As river water,” you mutter. “Excuse me.” You push past your new boss, hating that he’s already gotten so deep under your skin. Again.

[tvrknows]

(I'm obviously not a professional, but am a nerd and read a bunch of Plato's dialouges recently so I have detailed a reliable source lol)

You are totally right that the education model was a major part, as ancient Greek men wanted their children to be taught and also loved by the best - but it wasn't the point.

From my understanding, as a few dialouges mention, people totally could and would get teachers regardless: If you wanted to get better at a skill you would look for a skilled person and pay them to teach you.

On the other hand, a whole dialouge of Plato that I read recently is dedicated to Socrates explaining and showing a young man how he should court after a boy he lusts as an eromanos, since it is of the erastes' own interest (in the dialouge I read, specifically because the boy is "beautiful". Socrates automatically asks the young men who they adore for their beauty, implying that it was a necessery practice at this age?). It would've been the other way around if done for the purpose of mentoring.

Socrates lectures the man about how he shouldn't flatter the boy or praise him - because that would get in his head - but rather teach him his place and humble him.

doesn't sound like Apollo and Hyacinthus, right? They were way too in love for this kinda shit 👀❤️‍🩹

This is an interesting situation, because prior to that we hear that the man wrote songs about the boy, wouldn't stop talking about him and actively blushed when asked who he loves. This could be just a ceremonial act - but this could also be love, whatever kind.

Either way, a pederastic relationship manifesting between the two may have benefited the younger boy socially, but I don't know about emotionaly. The criteria to accepting the courtship wasn't being in love but just thinking the man is respectable enough (and in places like crete required the father's consent).

Pederasty included - not necesserally and not exclusively - many things such as mentoring, friendship, partnership and homoerotism (which was up to a hot debate even in this context, in certin places banned and considered as bad as incest), all under the umbrella of "love".

It was probably a way for some men who genuienly loved each other to get together - Theben law literally allowed for men to stay and live together past the traditional pederasty years - how cool is that!

Definitely way cooler than only allowing two men to be together as long as one of them is fifteen to seventeen and the other is twenty to thirty five. Cough cough.

But at the end of the day it was a common social practice with rules, done without much personal freedom just like ancient straight weddings. So not cool. I think that's it for me lol if I think of anything else I would try yapping to people irl otherwise this rabbithole would never come to an end~

Apollo/Hyacinthus and the god - mortal power imbalance (and how they have little to none of it)

A common argument against god/mortal relationships in Greek mythology is the uncomfortable power dynamic, that the god will always have a glaring power leverage over the mortal. Even if the god is fond of their lover, just one wrong move and still put the mortal in danger, intentionally or not. And I don't discard that.

Zeus and Poseidon's conquests didn't always consider the consent of the women they bedded. Aphrodite threatened her lover Anchises that if he were to reveal her as the mother of his son, he would be punished. Circe was fond of Odysseus, but their coupling was very coercive and Odysseus didn't feel safe around her; and if you're still adamant that Odysseus willingly became Calypso's bedmate, I will assume you're projecting your CNC fetish to the myth. Even Apollo, the god we'll be talking about, had intentionally or unintentionally had his lover Coronis killed in a fit of jealous rage.

And now we have Apollo and Hyacinthus, an Olympian god and a Spartan prince in a relationship with pederastic nature. Right off the bat, it's easy to call them problematic because of the age gap and power balance like the previous couples, and I've written a debunking post about the age gap allegation before. Now I want to talk a bit about the power imbalance between them.

While we didn't really know if all of Zeus and Poseidon's mortal love loved them back and knew for sure that Odysseus was terrified of the goddesses that held him captive, it was recorded that Hyacinthus was just as in love and openly chose Apollo:

Zeus himself told Eros that Hyacinthus was fond of Apollo.

Then why are Branchus and Hyacinth so fond of Apollo? (Dialogues of the Gods 6, Lucian)

Hyacinthus was also admired by Zephyrus, but he turned the god away for Apollo.

He [Zephyrus] had long been in love with Hyakinthos, though Hyakinthos would have nothing to say to him. (Dialogues of the Gods 16, Lucian)

Hyacinthus rejoiced at Apollo's sweet promises of love and companionship.

The son of Leto for love of the youth promises to give him all he possesses for permission to associate with him [...] The youth keeps his eyes steadfastly on the ground, and they are very thoughtful, for he rejoices at what he hears and tempers with modesty the confidence that is yet to come. (Imagines 14, Philostratus the Younger)

In the same scene in Philostratus' book, after giving the promises, it was also suggested that Apollo waited for Hyacinthus to answer. For all we know, Apollo could have just taken Hyacinthus away for his own pleasure, but no, he still gave him a choice.

Here is the god, painted as usual with unshorn locks; he lifts a radiant forehead above eyes that shine like rays of light, and with a sweet smile he encourages Hyakinthos, extending his right hand with the same purpose. (Imagines 14, Philostratus the Younger)

Remember the previous excerpt were Hyacinthus rejoiced at Apollo's promises? He was also filled with confidence when facing the god. Even though he's a powerful deity, Apollo didn't make Hyacinthus feel fear or inferior.

For comparison, this is how Hyacinthus behaved when he was with Apollo...

[Hyacinthus] stands there [...] and he supports his right hand on a spear, the hip being thrown forward and the right side exposed to view, and this bare arm permits us to describe what is visible [...] his neck is moderately erect [...] (Imagines 14, Philostratus the Younger)

Then, when the youth and Phoebus were well stripped, and gleaming with rich olive oil, they tried a friendly contest with the discus. [...] Heedless of danger Hyacinthus rushed for eager glory of the game, resolved to get the discus. (Metamorphoses 10, Ovid)

... and this is how Odysseus behaved when he was with Circe (quotes were taken from the Odysseus post)

[...] just approaching the halls of Circe, my heart a heaving storm at every step, paused at her doors, the nymph with lovely braids— I stood and shouted to her there. She heard my voice, she opened the gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting me in, and in I went, all anguish now… (The Odyssey 10, Homer)

[...] but I went up to that luxurious bed of Circe, hugged her by the knees and the goddess heard my winging supplication: "Circe, now make good a promise you gave me once— it’s time to help me home [...]" (The Odyssey 10, Homer)

While Odysseus was frightful when approaching Circe and had to beg her for favors, Hyacinthus was seen to be very open when he was around Apollo. Although I don't know why Hyacinthus was depicted to be holding his spear when talking with Apollo, I don't think he was being defensive against him. I interpreted it as Hyacinthus feeling comfortable enough with Apollo that he didn't feel the need to discard his weapon and grovel at the god's presence, he can keep it as he like because Apollo wouldn't mind his attitude.

Aside from the mutual attraction and consent, Apollo also humbled himself for Hyacinthus and not minding in displaying acts of service even as a god (though to be fair, he took care and spoiled a lot of his lovers in the same way)

And the love my father had for you was deeper than he felt for others. Delphi center of the world, had no presiding guardian, while the God frequented the Eurotas and the land of Sparta, never fortified with walls. His zither and his bow no longer fill his eager mind and now without a thought of dignity, he carried nets and held the dogs in leash, and did not hesitate to go with Hyacinthus on the rough, steep mountain ridges; and by all of such associations, his love was increased. (Metamorphoses 10, Ovid)

Another addition I'd like to add is the fragments of a supposedly lost work that described Apollo placing his bow or lyre at Hyacinthus' feet as a suppliant, which you can check out its post here.

In conclusion, despite being a god/mortal couple with a pederastic relationship, the myths had shown that Apollo and Hyacinthus had insignificant power imbalance in their dynamic. There's no denying that they both loved and respected each other very much, trying to make things work despite the difference in nature between them. And now you understand why I'm so not normal about this OTP.

Thank you for reading, and you can go home now.

[niiwa-angel]

Imagine being Loona during the second half of season 2.

You're already socially awkward, which is fine because so is your dad/boss and your coworkers. Two of your coworkers are in a really healthy marriage and they can't stop flaunting it in the office. Your dad/boss is in a situationship with literal royalty.

Then your dad/boss and his situationship have a weird hiccup and aren't seeing each other anymore, so you warn your dad/boss that someone finding excuses not to see you is a warning sign for a breakup. While he's out shopping for sex toys, you and your coworkers are kicking angel ass, because somehow they can get to hell now.

Your dad/boss comes back with the situationship seemingly ended and he's depressed as fuck! So he's going around on an apology tour to everyone he's ever wronged to potentially earn his royal bird back. This does not work and now he is spiralling hard.

That means he's keeping you and your coworkers crazy late, he has you burning taxidermied owls, and he's locked himself in his office to eat ice cream and spray cheese while watching human Ghost hunting soft porn. He and one of your coworkers then go up to reenact said soft porn, leaving you with the other one, who is also teetering on the edge of a breakdown. However, your dad/boss comes back with a better attitude so that's nice.

Then! On a random workday the fucking feds show up to bust you and your workplace. You and the dude you stayed behind with during your dad/boss's break down are freaking the fuck out while the chick he went topside with and your dad/boss are working with shocking efficiency. Regardless, you're all arrested, you get muzzled, and you're dragged before demon court.

You're all sentenced to death and you're scared as shit but then you're dad (and he is your dad) steps up and takes the full fall, meaning only he's sentenced to death and now you have to watch him die and live the rest of your life without him. And you're still muzzled so you can't even tell him you love him, that you're sorry for not saying it earlier, and that you don't want him to go.

Except literally seconds before the axe hits, your dad's ex situationship shows up and saves him, then sings a song where he takes all the blame. You, your coworkers, and your dad get dragged out of the court thinking his situationship is about to die instead but you really don't care because your dad is still alive and you can tell him you love him.

Turns out, his situationship isn't executed, just stripped of his titles and powers, he's also public enemy #1, so he's coming home with you. Which is weird but whatever.

And then a month later, he's still living with you, depressed as fuck (which is to be expected) and your dad is trying to help him out. He's at the office working your desk job, so you get to go into the field. But literally right after your first (failed) mission you have to go fight his weird BIL and that's creepy.

His daughter reams him out pretty brutally, tells him to have "a great fucking life" and storms off. So you and your dad drag him back to your place, where he is still horribly depressed, but it's Sinsmas so you kind of shove that aside and have fun with your friends. In your home, something you could never have imagined, while your dad dances with his ex-royal bird.

Like, that's just wild

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Christmas Kindness submission

To Qoldenskies,

I’ll straight up say it. You write my favourite Donnie angst out there. There’s the obvious masterpiece that is the Canary Continuity, and the horrifically underrated Coming Undone. Both are such visceral, heartbreaking experiences that I have enjoyed from start to finish. And Caged Lungs broke me down. Miner’s Eulogy was what shattered me, though, and Clipped Wings? What a RIDE. With each chapter you post, I can’t believe we’re getting closer to the END. Not the END. I don’t want it to end, but it’s gotta. We do need that promised happy ending.

Honestly, your interpretations of the characters? Especially Donnie? They’re so well thought-out and clever. There’s so many important layers to them and what drives them, and it all comes together SO WELL. You’ve definitely done your homework and put a lot of care into your stories. It shows.

What I also have to praise is how beautifully crafted the writing ITSELF is. The metaphors and parallels are so clever. You use them masterfully to paint a better picture of the characters and their struggles. It’s like you have two narratives running at once, sometimes, the obvious one, and the supporting one that explains so much. I don’t always catch that, since I’m not that smart, but I know it’s there. Commenters help me out by bringing attention to it. 

Emotions? Spot on. I feel so much, and the experiences are painted so viscerally that it’s hard not to feel along with the characters.

And I wanted to also bring up one more thing. I really like how you ‘distort’ and break up the dialogue when the characters are in distress. The stammering, the added words, (for examples, “I’m— I’m too muh-ch,” “something’s wro-wrohng, Raph and Leo are ouh-out—“ (cu) “I’ll d-do– I’ll do any-hhh-thing,” “I’ll– I’ll clean it up, I promi- hhh -se!” (cl)) really helps me HEAR how they’re talking. I’ve never seen stuttering or dragged-out words articulated so ‘as-said’— meaning, that is exactly the noises they’d be making if you heard them (particularly the shuddering of breath that accompanies then ‘hhh’, if that makes sense). This is probably my favourite little detail exclusive to your work. I absolutely love it. It’s such a small thing but it definitely enhances the reading experience.

Because I don’t want to leave out your ‘smaller’ fics, I wanted to say that I have read Circomvating Death, too. It definitely is a nice little refresher to all the angst (but I LOVE angst), and I’ve enjoyed the humorously chaotic adventures of Donnie and Casey Jr. Whenever you get back around to writing for that, I’ll look forward to seeing where they go next!

And Enhancements? Short but sweet pain. The idea of NO existing painkillers working on them makes a lot of of sense. The super-soldier piece is such a fun little concept to play around with, whether for badass purposes or whump. I also love seeing the concept referenced in your other stories. It works great as a little headcanon establishment. It doesn’t need to be a massive masterpiece to still be great.

I know you’re also planning Where We Went Wrong as a B-team sep AU, and I’m definitely looking forward to that and your bad things happen bingo prompts! I know all that’s in the right hands, and 

You have a lot of talent, and you deserve all the positive feedback, fan art, and fanfics you’ve gotten so far.

And I did read the post where you said that your family is too poor to celebrate Christmas, but I hope you can cherish the time you all have together regardless (and beat that Christmas Curse that’s plagued you for the past couple years). <3 Have a great one! Wishing you all the best.

@qoldenskies

Christmas Kindness Event Post

[bethanydelleman]

and i totally agree with what you said! i just hate hate this trend of painting annoying or unimportant characters as actually misunderstood! like no, they're just annoying.

I obliviously get that the other sisters are not as fleshed out as elizabeth and jane are, but marys only scenes are her having that holier-than-thou attitude.

we see why the bennets don't work as a family unit, and we see the flaws of each member (which are the parents fault anyway) but I need people to understand that marys moralizing attitude (idk how else to describe it) is a flaw as much as kitty, lydia and mrs bennets impropriety and mr bennets careless attitude are. she's not the shy kid who cannot speak in class and spends recess reading alone. she's the kid who constantly interrupts her classmates to add unnecessary stuff when the teacher asks them a question, the one who tries to be the teachers pet but fails ; and she spends recess alone because she's above socializing (which she would announce proudly as everyone awkwardly stares at her)

like i don't even have anything against her, i even found the endgame romance cute but the mischaracterization in this book is something else, and it borders on misogyny when every other female character is turned into satan 2.0. to uplift mary (which shows a lot)

mrs bennet apparently has it out for her because she's not as gorgeous as jane, despite the fact that kitty and lydia were not described as beauties, they just have social skills (taken too far but still)

caroline apparently spends her free time bullying her but it's okay! she will be some guy's booty call as karma (even if that goes completely against her character )

elizabeth and jane are basically cinderellas stepsisters and charlotte is the evil stepmother, and their sole goal is to make marys life hell and have her end up in the streets :((

like if people are just so obsessed with mary then just write a sequel about her and kitty slowly becoming better and finding husbands and having their HEA by using the material given at the end of the book.

wish people would put all this time and energy into making worthy adaptations of underrated austen novels. asked the universe for some and I got this and persuasion 2022 💀 for all I know the next adaptation will be a lady susan-esque movie about the misunderstood mrs bennet, forced to marry evil mrs bennet and deep down just a little fierce :(

sorry for the long and a bit sour rant btw, and thanks for reading regardless, I was glad to find another person who seemed to hate it as much

This is about my dislike of The Other Bennet Sister

I have a whole, very long essay about the treatment of Caroline Bingley in fan fiction and misogyny.

When Mary spent time with the Darcys, my vibe was, "Ew, they are so disgustingly in love I can't stay here." Which was... a thing.

Enjoyed your rant!

[inky-snowdrop]

Christmas with the Lin Kuei 🎄

(NOTE: I don't personally believe that the Lin Kuei celebrate Christmas because I headcanon that religion isn't allowed within the clan. The mindset of clan before blood also negates the whole family aspect of Christmas. HOWEVER I am making an exception for this list 🤍)

❄️ Bi-Han ❄️

Y'all... this man is not a Christmas hater (LET ME EXPLAIN)

Does he love Christmas? No. The fact of the matter is that Christmas happens during his favorite time of year: winter. Anything that happens in cold weather is decent in his eyes

He enjoys gift giving, especially when it's for Sektor and Sareena. Naturally he is a very observant person, so seeing the look of excitement on his significant others' faces when he gets them exactly what they wanted makes him happy

He's not really into all the family fun that's supposed to occur during the Christmas season (this man is NOT making a gingerbread house). He'd rather curl up near the fire and read a Christmas book (he enjoys A Christmas Carol because of the ghosts) with the people he cares about

DO NOT sing Christmas carols around him. DO NOT ask him to make it snow inside. He will actually lose his mind.

🔥 Kuai Liang 🔥

Kuai Liang is a Christmas enjoyer. He has a lot of positive memories associated with the holidays from when he was younger (playing with Harumi Shirai in the snow, decorating the Lin Kuei Palace with colorful candles)

Baking is one of his favorite Christmas traditions... Though he is an absolute fire hazard in the kitchen. He always ends up with burnt Christmas tree cookies that he absolutely smothers in frosting

Since Tomás has difficulties around the holidays, Kuai Liang goes out of his way to help him feel cheerful by including him in activities. They've spent lots of time doing childish things like building snowmen or decorating a tree in the forest with homemade decorations

Last minute wrapper. Motherfucker is awake the entire night on Christmas Eve trying to wrap all the gifts he got. He is often exhausted on Christmas morning... And some Christmas' he doesn't wake up before noon

When he moved to Japan to establish the Shirai Ryu, he took several of his old Christmas decorations with him. He hasn't touched them since

💨 Tomás Vrbada 💨

Tomás has... a complicated relationship with Christmas

On one hand, he has so many positive memories (both secular and religious) with his birth parents and sister during Christmas time... On the other hand he has so many positive memories of people that are no longer in his life

Regardless of how he feels, he tries really hard not to let his upsetment show. Whenever Kuai Liang asks him to bake with him or to build a snowman, Tomás always says yes. He doesn't want to bring anyone else down because of him

Tomás likes to watch Christmas cartoons like Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red Noses Reindeer. His absolute favorite Christmas cartoon is The Year Without A Santa Claus. He relates to how depressed Santa is.

Though he typically tries to avoid Bi-Han during the holiday season (why get kicked while he's already down?), sometimes he'll ask if he can sit with Bi-Han while he's watching a Christmas movie. That's the most time that they spend with each other without yelling at each other the whole year

⚙️ Sektor ⚙️

CHRISTMAS. HATER. An absolute Scrooge

There were too many times in the past where she was let down by her mother and father during Christmas time, so now she just hates everything associated with the season

She locks herself in the Armory, working on things she doesn't need to be working on in order to distract herself. She barely sleeps, she barely eats, it's mildly concerning how consumed she is by her work

Bi-Han recognizes that Sektor needs her space and tries to respect that as much as possible, but he still gets worried when she doesn't leave the shop for more than a week. Sareena will go into the Armory and pester Sektor all day, asking questions about different Christmas things until Sektor kicks her out

The only day that Sektor is somewhat present is Christmas Day. She will go sit with everyone while they open gifts, sipping her coffee as she soaks in as much of the moment as she is emotionally able to

🐝 Cyrax 🐝

Cyrax likes both the religious and secular aspects of Christmas. She is a Catholic, so she sets up a little nativity scene in her room every year

Being from Nigeria, she has a lot of traditions that she brings into the Lin Kuei from the Zaki. One such tradition is going on an annual hunt and competing to see who can kill the largest animal within an allotted time. The winner is blessed with good luck for the upcoming year and their catch is served at Christmas dinner

Kuai Liang LOVES this tradition and competes with Cyrax yearly. He has yet to beat her. In fact the only person that was able to beat Cyrax's time and kill was Sareena, who managed to bring down an Ice Beast within ten minutes

When Cyrax and Kuai Liang dated, they spent a lot of time walking in the woods and looking at all the tracks in the snow. This was also an excuse for Cyrax to cuddle close to Kuai to stave off the cold

Will often join Kuai Liang in his quest to cheer up Tomás, but she is also very aware of if Tomás is not in the mood and will back away. She often has to remind Kuai Liang to not be too forceful when he's trying to help

😈 Sareena 😈

LOVES CHRISTMAS!!! I mean, who wouldn't after being trapped in the NetherRealm with a perverted old Sorcerer for centuries?

She especially loves to decorate the palace in bright lights. Instead of using candles, she wants to go to the store and buy actual electric bulbs (not realizing that the Lin Kuei palace doesn't have electricity... But Sektor would figure out a way to make them work). She spends time untangling the lights every year and gets tangled up every time

She has a lot of questions about Christmas. "Who is Santa Claus? How does he see us when we're sleeping? Is he a sorcerer? How does he fit down the chimney? How does he not set himself on fire when he's in the chimney and the fire is lit?..." Bi-Han started ignoring her after continuously answering her questions for three hours

Is addicted to eggnog and actually enjoys Kuai Liang's burnt cookies

She's very bad at gift giving. One year she gave Bi-Han and Sektor each a dead rabbit. She didn't wrap them either, so their chamber smelled really bad for a couple of days and Sektor and Bi-Han had no idea what was causing the smell. Meanwhile, Sareena's looking mischievous in the corner and thinking "Hehehe they'll never guess what their gifts are! ;)"

[stubbornismymiddlename]

@onethatdoesthesaving

{I wasn't at all surprised to hear Sam goading me now in his success in getting me to admit that I did, in fact, care about him. I suppose after what I pulled the last time him and I saw each other, I deserved it. In fact, I had a feeling I'd have a lot of making up to do over what I said when I jumped to the wrong conclusions that night. I messed up and nobody knew this better than I did, so if finding ways to making it up to Sam was what he needed in order to find a way to trust me again then so be it} Even the chief? Now that was a brave and ballsy choice of ghosting, Mr. Carver. {I playfully aired out as I continued to eat my sandwich; occasionally washing it back with some water before I continued to eat} You know, I'm not sure I want or need to hear who you may have been flirting with. As long as it isn't any of my best friends, I think me not being in the know is for the best. {My casual way of eluding to the fact that hearing about Sam's love interests would make me jealous. Sure, I knew after I pushed him away before, I didn't have any right to show jealousy, but I would either way, because pride aside, I was in love with Sam. A fact that I'd keep to myself for now since this is the first conversation he and I were having with each other since our fight that prompted him to leave down for months without any word or warning} Just out of curiosity sake, are you seeing anyone now? I mean, I want to be prepared to be welcoming if some girl shows up here at the firehouse claiming to be your girlfriend. {Pfft, welcoming. Like that would ever happen. I hated the idea of Sam seeing someone other than me, but regardless, I needed to be prepared to have that blow hit me hard if he was seeing someone}

Bad Habits are hard to break

@stubbornismymiddlename

Bad habits are hard to break. 

Habits; the old ones you believe you blocked out, the ones you felt you had let go of. Sam Carver was the one that did the saving, the one that deep inside felt like he was drowning. He was the savior; his brother; the screw up that his life altered having to pick up the pieces. A shell of a back was who Sam was; he worked his ass off through the academy, and somehow it didn’t feel enough. He spent his first few years in the force, the CFD where he bounced around. He kept one duffle of clothing he never fully shopped to create a home in the apartment he lived in. Because why put in the effort when you knew it was only temporarily. 

That was until he landed at house 51. The vibe was different, you felt welcomed at home. Not to mention he recognized a familiar face; Stella Kidd now lieutenant. Was he envious of her? Yeah she worked her ass up and she become someone we all were proud of, but Sam knew the brief time period he had a little crush. Was it because she saved his ass? You know one of those hero moments where you life blinked before your eyes and she was the one that tugged me out of near death. She was married; and something told Sam he’d get a beat down if that husband of hers found out. But it was a crush, she wasn’t why he found himself running from the one place he felt like home. 

It was his fling with Violet which never quite felt like a fling it felt deep and intimate. It was easy; I didn’t want to be another guy she lost. A person she cared about that she now had to say goodbye to. Sam cared about her; may even be worth to say crazy in love. Our time together was special, I wanted to be the best version of myself with her. And for a while I felt like I was okay, I was on the firm and narrow, even repairing my current apartment, because I planned on staying. But that last call before I went on for low kept slipping through my head. The bad parent; the aggressively brother; I felt like my world came crashing down, the protective nature; the boy who was obviously terrified of his family was me. And I reacted; I put hands on a civilian, I went nuts; and looking back Sam knows he should’ve handled himself different, his bad habits are hard to break. But he felt powerless again, he left the firehouse in defeat; he said the words he harbored inside of him for weeks. I love you; when Violet wasn’t prepared remotely ready to hear it. But in the heat of the moment I felt i had to be clear. The shock, the slight hint of tears in her eyes was the last memory I had of her. 

The persistent aching that never left my chest now, and its been two months since I left Chicago. Sam had a countless number of missed phone calls from Stella, from Violet well Violet called once a week and when I would automatically send it to voicemail I think she got the hint I had no interest in being chewed out again. So she only sent messages that said “ Sam.. are  you okay?” And I fought the urges to reply, but I couldn’t not until I figured myself out. Those two months Carver found himself in Milwaukee. He wasn’t working as a firefighter; he was doing construction, repairs in houses; on the loadwork of construction sites. He knew why he reacted; he remembered the countless number of times his dad came at him, he was the only physical thing standing between his brother and dad; the scars that shattered his body. But owning up to his mistakes felt like a hurdle of its own. Sam wasn’t ready. He had his tool bag in hand, and he was just walking into his small apartment, when he felt the persistent vibrations from his phone, and brows pushed together as he dropped his bag and closed the front door. He didn’t even look at the chicago number; he just pressed green and answered. “ Hello Tom.” Assuming it was his boss he just left the jobsite now. “ Carver get your ass back here.” 

Stella? I asked myself before I could make a lame excuse now she went on and continued.. “ I know you’re a little messed up right now, we all are. And I know I went off that day, we had to look at the image of the CFD but the water is brushed under, I’m worried about you, come home.” A plead in her voice, I could hear movement in the back a whisper from Severide about “You got hold of him.” And I know I’d be dodging every call from Chicago, this was pure luck now. The male sighed as I uttered. “ I don’t know, I’m sure you filled my spot Kidd.” And she was quick to add “ No, it’s yours you never said you weren’t coming back, I held it for you. You messed up, but it shouldn’t define the future you have here. See you soon.” She aired out noting I probably wasn’t going to give a straight answer now. THe male let the line go dead, as he marched into his small living room. Dropping himself down to the couch; a little lumpy, as he thought about it. 

Home; the people the family I made, falling in love for real. A home I shattered; and now I was living under a rock of protection from myself; how many bad habits would follow me? Where is my heart and head?

[iklachomzwaartekracht]

not me seeing someone say disney changed elsa from the original concept art because the executives wanted something more the princess brand when they actually did after they wrote let it go and realised they could have a nuanced character instead of Bad Lady

[boobchuy]

hell yeah

[wickmitz]

I decided to start talking about Wick and Rocky's relationship because I like their dynamics too, I like seeing Wick scared of Rocky and Rocky being aggressive with him, which is unusual because Rocky is rarely aggressive with anyone, but of course Wick is an exception to rule

Also my mini opinion about their possible relationship, I think that if Rocky didn't have to fight for his place, then he and Wick could become friends, or at least tolerate each other a little, I also see some superficial similarities, their gentlemanly and romantic natures, and their common love for explosions (remembering the quarrymen chapter), but this is my assumption, I think that I don't understand the characters' personalities well, so I can be wrong in this assumption, something like that. So, what do you think about their relationship?

for starters, i cannot thank you enough for this ask! as i’ve said previously, i have many thoughts on these two, so it’s nice to finally be able to share some of them. although given the extent to which i think about them, i apologize in advance if this is sloppy and sort of everywhere … while i’ll try to structure things the best i can, i cannot promise i’ll succeed! but hopefully this is an enjoyable reply nonetheless.

one of my favorite things about rocky and wick’s relationship is absolutely how aggressive rocky is towards the aristocrat ; he is prone to glares and cruel jokes and borderline hissing whenever the man is within his line of sight, or can be brought to a wailing-fit over the mere mention of his name from miss m’s mouth. there is a childishness to it, but a very prominent threat as well in spite of rocky’s usual incompetence. so he goes out of his way to posture around wick, readily lying and adorning himself with the gangster drapes he so badly wants to wear, in the hopes that it intimidates … will even badmouth wick’s family and make fun of his name and rock related obsession to mitzi, and so on so forth! yet all of this is very reminiscent of schoolyard bullying rather than anything too severe, though we as the audience understand rather quickly that rocky would bash wick’s head in with a tire iron if he could. ( translation : if it wouldn’t earn the tears or hate of a certain beloved mitzi may ) and it’s all very intense despite the absence of actual violence! and i understand why many fans see this as unusual for rocky and believe that it’s only wick who makes him act so aggressively, but i’d argue it isn’t really wick at all that prompts such scary reactions from him … and that rocky is a deeply angry character who’s a.) been boiling quietly for a long, long time and b.) has turned wick into a punching bag of sorts for this inner world of resentment and hurt. basically, when he’s judging the well-to-do or poking fun, his eyes don’t look at wick and actually acknowledge him as sedgewick sable ; instead this is a being, something vague and metaphorical, who threatens to upseat rocky’s permanence in the lackadaisy and steal away his savior, and he’s had a hand in the violinist’s misfortune for a long time.

obviously, rocky doesn’t think wick robbed him of his family twice over and made him homeless, but he is channeling the fear and anguish of those events into his loathing for wick, if that makes sense? it’s easier that way -- to finally have an outlet for everything bleeding inside of you, to be able to bite and claw at something without feeling conflicted or having to take personal accountability for your own mistakes … which is something that i think rocky does struggle with to a degree. he is sort of a finger pointer! his pain has to be worth something, it has to be for someone else ; spending years homeless and losing his last bit of family was for freckle, and the scrambling of his literal brain was for mitzi, and that means he can’t ever be angry with them! well, except that he is, somewhat, but he buries it deep down instead of feeling it. with freckle there is a sense of strain between them -- an air of ‘you owe me’ from rocky to freckle as he uses freckle to appease miss m, and he constantly pokes fun at his cousin too. it’s lighter than his jabs at wick, but there’s a constant pestering, a reminder of how good freckle has it : how he’s got the mom and the house and the job and the girl most notably. i don’t think rocky is intending to come across as mean, and to his credit he hardly does! but it’s rather clear to me that some part of him, some hidden and deeply hurt part, is rather indignant about taking the fall for freckle all those years ago. which he can’t understand, because how could he? he made that choice, he decided to take accountability for something he didn’t do because he loves freckle and knows it’d be so easy to believe this family tragedy was roark’s fault ; the devilish child he was, all troublesome and too broken to properly fit anywhere. so there is a disconnect born here, where rocky can’t comprehend that he’d be angry at freckle, so instead these not so great feelings are placed elsewhere and silently boil over time. and with mitzi … i don’t think he’s angry at her per se, but there is a frustrated and desperate chorus of : why him and why not me, when i’m the one out here dying for you? which is certainly unpleasant. of course, rather than allowing those feelings to be more aimed at miss m, whom he feels unloved by, he ( again! ) represses these emotions and allows them to fester into his greatest fears and fantastical complexes. i think there is a lot of other miscellaneous anger he could have towards others too … perhaps some part of him is sore upon seeing ivy’s normal lifestyle, watching her go to university and knowing that’s been taken from him. or an ache felt when hearing stories from zib and the band and how they used to travel successfully, living as nomads, and rocky is all too reminded of his similar lifestyle and how he couldn’t make it work as effortlessly. people with immense trauma are more prone to irrational anger and jealousy, to viewing everything around them as unfair and believing it’s even more unjust that so many people get to live comfortably while they’ve suffered. a situation that gets more messy when you’re someone like rocky, a man who’s willingly made choices that have harmed himself and wants to continue on with his smiling, bumbling fool of an act. he does not want to be angry, does not want to see it within himself, i think, which leads to an accidental increase of it.

all of this is to reiterate that wick is a scapegoat for rocky and nothing more. it’s why he’s rather hypocritical whenever it concerns the man. for example, it was stated by tracy that he looks down upon wick for his excessive presence at the bar, yet he appears to enjoy hanging out with zib -- who drinks just as often! he makes fun of how all wick ever talks about is rocks, when he himself is prone to poetry rambles that people find irritating or boring, and etc etc. this is also just a human nature thing, to critique someone you heavily dislike and even going as far as to belittle things you love or do in your own day to day because you just hate them that bad! but given rocky’s willingness to befriend anyone, it more so reeks of a dehumanization element. wick is every obstacle in his way, every divine force that threatens to send him packing again, so he is equal parts unnerved by wick’s presence and angry about it. it is mostly a fear response we are seeing, an emotion that’s morphed into long held resentment and anger. so his actions are extremely defensive, with him trying to push wick far away and keep him and mitzi separate, like some sort of animal attempting to ward off a threat that’s come too close to their home. despite the loaded animosity there, this hate has hardly reached its peak … but it shall only grow more intense as things continue onward i’m afraid, since as it stands ( in the comic at least ) rocky is at an all time low … and is ten times more desperate. i’d honestly say wick has become so warped in his mind’s eye that he can only strive towards ‘winning’ over the other man, because that’s all he can see anymore. i think mitzi implying that wick willingly helped her out, the intense head injury, and rocky’s fragile emotional state is exactly what pushes him towards premeditated murder in look-see. i don’t know how people perceive that arc, but to me it’s very clear that rocky actively sought to see the deaths of wes and fish that night. going as far as to lament that he’d be, “very disappointed if ( he ) dreamed them,” and purposefully luring the marigold duo away to have freckle pick them off. while you could argue that this was a smart move, in a gangster sort of sense, there’s still no denying that rocky is oddly chipper about the whole thing and is now seeking death out ; whereas before his methods of vengeance were just, well, ruining people’s livelihood but ultimately leaving them alive. this isn’t to discredit the fact that rocky is going through something! he is in a very muddled and dark place, mentally and physically, but even tracy has said that the head injury hasn’t changed rocky’s personality -- it’s only brought things to the surface.

source : q&a with tracy .

which, yeah! makes sense! head trauma can cause a person to become a wreck emotionally ( think mood swings, irritability, etc ) but it doesn’t completely morph someone either. personality changes may occur, but it’s not like you’re being rewritten entirely, you know? and given tracy’s old statement, it’s clear that ‘personality changes’ aren’t a side effect he’s suffering from. something that adds to my beginning statement, which is that rocky is a deeply angry and troubled person, more so than fans give him any credit for.

however, to touch upon your mini opinion about these two, i actually wholeheartedly agree that rocky and wick could become friends if circumstances were different. they do in fact have many superficial similarities, but one of the more prominent things they deeply share is never really belonging in the groups they frequent. this is more overt with rocky’s character, yet wick faces it too in subtle ways. the well-to-do crowd, seen through the investors, find the gentleman to be lacking in about every place imaginable ; to them he is an obsessive freak who cares too deeply for meager rocks, something they constantly mock him for, while he’s also being noticeably set apart from the rest of them … he seems younger than the investors, more excitable, passionate, and a little less experienced, and doesn’t seem to care for money or reputation as much as them either. there is a constant rubbing between him and them, where what he enjoys is seen as wrong, such as his love for the lackadaisy and his choice in paramor, a grieving widow with extremely dangerous ties. we also know that wick doesn’t have many friends at all, with the only two he has being lacy and church ( church is listed as such on his character profile, in a sort of tongue-in-cheek way ), both of whom work for or with him. they are obliged to hang around, and while they care in varying ways, they are prone to judging him just as much. honestly, it’s not shocking that wick seeks refuge at his chosen speakeasy! but even there he is rather distant from everyone else. he doesn’t speak to zib ever in the comics, nor seems all too close with viktor, ivy, or horatio … it is merely mitzi he is close to, even if he knows of the other people who work there. and, once again, wick very obviously doesn’t fit in. he is not gangster material, could never be an atlas may replacement, much less someone who could get his paws dirty in such an active way. so he has his feet in two different worlds and doesn’t know how to fit into either of them, or which one he actually wants to fit into more. i think in many ways rocky could relate -- these are two very lonely people who wish to belong somewhere and be accepted by some group or another but go about it in all the wrong ways. wick, who is too hesitant to fully commit to what he wants and is worse off for it, and then rocky, who obsessively throws himself against what he wants until he breaks every bone in his body. they also have explosives to bond over, lol, and other miscellaneous things like their taste in women i suppose … but this potential bond adds to the tragedy of lackadaisy, where we see two people who on every level should get along but we’re burdened with the knowledge that it’s an impossibility anyway, because there’s no removing the circumstance of which they’re in.

though i like to believe that despite wick’s fear of rocky, he maintains a kindness towards him regardless. i think his worries about rocky are rather surface level … he doesn’t know the boy at all, really, and thus can’t make heads or tails of him, hence him believing the lie in balderdash. so when i’m feeling particularly self indulgent, i like imagining a world where they’re forced together and sort of ‘stuck’ together ; to which rocky finally breaks and exposes his wounds to wick, in every sense of the word, and wick finally gets him. the aggression, the possessiveness of mitzi … it is all fear and desperation and a profound sadness, things he’d sympathize with. if rocky was able to explain that he loathes wick because if he saves the lackadaisy then mitzi won’t need him anymore and that it’s not fair that wick gets to so easily fix things when rocky would give his soul for his home, for her, and how wick could render every sacrifice he’s already made for naught by smoothing things over with some greenbacks and he can’t lose this, he just can’t --! … which, well, wick is too kind of a man to be able to do anything except feel awful, even though it’s not his fault at all. here we have two people who could coexist! and they should, since rocky logically can’t do every speakeasy job ( band member, rumrunner, mitzi’s shadow, also the guy who gets the money for the hooch ) by himself, just like how wick can’t save the lackadaisy with only his cash and limited booze stash. it’d be a joint cooperation, a collaboration between them, both equally important in the grand scheme of crime’s every turning wheel … but rocky’s rage and fear won’t let him see that, and likely never will. still, in scenarios where everything ends up alright for the lackadaisy and the people involved in it ( which is not how canon will go, by the way ), i fancy wick and rocky getting better within their relationship. rocky will always be prickly and quick to upset around the other man sadly, but perhaps he could see wick in a softer kind of light. or at least understand vaguely enough that he isn’t out to get rocky, so to speak. and then maybe wick learns that pancakes soothe rocky’s ire and poorly makes them anytime he wishes to talk to the man, and other fun things like that! but you should have more confidence in your character analysis skills, because you were spot on ( at least in my eyes ) about them potentially getting along if things were different. it’s certainly a fun aspect to play around with, and is important to note when discussing their relationship so you can fully understand just how warped rocky’s perspective on things are. and how unstable and traumatized he is too, of course </3 sidenote, but i also hope that throughout everything i’ve said here, or anything i’ve said before on my blog, that my love for rocky and my own sympathy for him comes across well enough. while he’s deeply flawed and i have no qualms discussing said flaws in depth, i also don’t think of him as some insane freak who’s evil at his core or anything like that. honestly, i adore analyzing him so much as a character because of how far down his issues go! he’s very well written, i’ll say, as is wick and many of the other characters, but i digress.

once more, thank you for the ask! i’ll end this here because i fear if i don’t i’ll start going in circles, since their relationship is so vast and very important for rocky in a character sense. hopefully i shed some more light on it though! i love these two to bits and pieces and i wouldn’t be half as invested in lackadaisy if their dynamic wasn’t so monumental -- at least to me.

[blushblushbear]

still thinking about this FUCKING

I THINK HE WOULD CRY OVER SOUND OF MUSIC

So, this one's kinda old so I'm gonna give a run down of the general plot.

So Maria is a nun whose really bad at being serious cause she's such a head in the clouds free spirit, so the nunnery gets her a job as the care-taker of the Von Trapp children.

The Von Trapps are a rich Austrian family with a BUNCH of kids, no mom and a distant father. The mother died many years ago and the father never emotionally recovered. He doesn't even sing for his children anymore as that was a thing he did together with his wife. The loss of the mother literally stole The Sound Of Music out of their lives.

Over time, Maria gets to know the children and both grow to love each other. The Father and Maria also grow to love each other and end up a family again together. (She brought the music and joy back into their home)

SO.

while all this is going on a thing that is bubbling in the background is the nazi forces slowly overtaking Austria.

It comes to a point where it is no longer safe for the Von Trapp family to stay in their homeland.

So at the end of the play, they are made to put on this big concert, because by that point they're known as this large aristocratic family full of amazing singers.

The song the father sings at that concert is the same song he sang earlier in the show-- the song he used to sing to his children and the song that let's the world know he's letting music back into his life; Edelweiss. A lullaby from his home country about the wild flowers that bloom on it's hillsides.

He sings it at this concert as a mix of a few things-- a show that he stands with Austria, a memorial for the Austria he loved and that is being taken over by force, a goodbye to his homeland, and a hope that one day his family will be able to return home-- to the home they've known and loved all their lives.

Yeah, maybe I'm just projecting again, but I think Fuyu would cry at that.

and honestly-- Edleweiss is just such a lovely song regardless. (also fun fact, the name means noble white, so Fuyu might like that too)

any ideas on what other Musicals can make this grown ass man cry?

I call dibs on Wicked due to him having some hope that if he did die and was viewed as wicked from the rest of the world (except his own clan obviously) there would be someone who would truly mourn for him because they knew him on a deeper level. That being Marshmallow or Shibuki in my case

this is purely for fun as a silly crackheadcannon but I’d like to hear others suggestions😈

for science!/j

[respectthepetty]

I'm going to always hype up Domundi for its displays of friendship and love in its shows like Middleman's Love.

I like that Jade knows and respects his friends.

I like that his friends know him.

There is a reason King took Jade to pick out a ring for Uea. Jade knows Uea.

And Jade knows how King is.

Cause King doesn't have that name for no reason.

And Jade keeps him humble.

Even if King hates it.

But I like that Domundi always lets us see couples in love. Not just falling in love, but we get to see Uea and King in love.

AND I LOVE THAT JADE WAS RIGHT!

(I also love this kinkster)

Jade knew that it isn't about grand gestures for Uea.

Because Uea already knows King loves him.

Which is why Uea gets King coffee. It's why he pinches and bops King. It's why he put on the cat ears and collar. He loves King and doesn't need anything else.

And Uea wants that for Jade.

Because it's not about the big moments! It's about the small ones and who is there during them. Jade has been there for Uea and King and they are going to be there for him.

Because that's what friends do.

[youandthemountains]

it probably is insane how much I wish I could express the thing about spones. the vibes about spones. Like there's the joking fun fandom vibes and I love them, I love to play with them, of course of course. but the THING. the CORE to me. i wish i could capture it and share it.

[purplecelestial-buddy]

It's so funny to me that the fandom has come to see Hirano as a Sasamiya promoter of sorts because while he is, it took him some time to get accustomed to the idea of them together. And while he was never a hater Sasaki's actions towards Miyano certainly used to get on his nerves.

At first he was so worried and probably even felt a little guilty because (as mentioned in the following screenshot) because the only reason why Sasaki knows which class Miya is in, is thanks to him.

But like, that's not the face of a friend that's happy to play cupid and get their two acquaintances together. Not at all, that's the face of someone who puts his sempai-kouhai relationship with Miyano over his (pseudo) friendship with Sasaki.

Hirano from the first chapters would have jailed Sasaki if he were allowed to. (And he has his reasons, Sasaki has been something since the first chapters)

Anyway, the progression of events is really interesting.

He started, quite literally, shielding Miyano from Sasaki.

Then, he came to accept their relationship.

And at the end he really was rooting for them, to the point he ended up outright lying just so Miyano could meet Sasaki and they could talk it out and confess.