#but i'm going to start with the fact that her being good this entire time means she is just lying out of her butt and making stuff up

[nabi-unveiled]

Hagiwara isn't off the hook.

He shares responsibility in the state of his and Kaori's relationship, and I'm not talking about the cheating.

Put down your pitchfork. Just hear me out.

I adore Hagiwara. He cheated. I don't care. I have mentally added him onto my list of "good boys". I will make a special category just for him.

I'm also not making excuses for Kaori. She must own up that she kept Hagiwara on a string while knowing it was hurting him.

However, their relationship was doomed to fail. They need different things. Kaori needs a relationship where sex isn't expected, and Hagiwara needs a relationship where he can be fully open and honest with his feelings and desires. Frankly, he needs something deeper than Kaori can offer, and I'm not talking about sex.

But the relationship shouldn't have lasted this long, and that's on BOTH of them. It's perfectly okay that Kaori doesn't want sex. It's perfectly okay that Hagiwara does want sex (and intimacy). The problem is that neither of them communicate about it.

Before we go further, there are some points that need to be established. Also note - the symbols are EVERYTHING to me.

1 - Kaori/Hagiwara's relationship is NOT the same as Fujisawa/Sei's.

Their relationships share similarities, but they are NOT the same.

Sei's relationship with Fujisawa developed as a trauma response to a violent car crash. It has carried violent undertones the entire time.

The symbols convey that Fujisawa has methodically trapped Sei in this relationship.

But Kaori and Hagiwara's relationship? It starts with a romantic meet-cute. It was warm. It had saturated colors.

Their relationship does not have a violent undertone. It has an undertone of passivity and complacency. Of note, Hagiwara didn't initiate anything in this relationship. He's waited on Kaori's lead.

The door is open. Hagiwara could leave at any point.

These two relationships also do not have the same power dynamic. Kaori DOES control many aspects of the relationship. However, Kaori has control of the relationship because Hagiwara lets her. Fujisawa has control over his relationship with Sei because Fujisawa demands it. There is a difference.

In fact, the show actually has already acknowledged that there are different types of "controlling". The coworker's relationship isn't painted as unhealthy. Some of us may see it as unhealthy, but the show doesn't give ANY indication of that itself in sound or symbols.

2 - I am in the camp that thinks Kaori DOES like or care about Hagiwara.

Not because I believe her words, but because I believe in the symbols. Kaori made Hagiwara rice.

The rice that represents home and affection? Kaori made it. It's just her version had a sour plum in the middle.

And when she offered it, Hagiwara willingly chose to eat it. He knew the plum was there, and he ate it anyways.

In this week's episode, Kaori explains herself, and she's in black. This is not a typical color for her. She may be smiling, but she is mourning.

We could discuss in length about whether emotional abuse is in play here or if it's just an unhealthy relationship. That's not really the point of this post. Either way, we know that Kaori was finally being honest and vulnerable.

WE SAW HER FEET.

Feet shots happens when our character's true feelings and motivations are exposed. Sei has beautiful heels (desires) but his toenail is broken (😭 Just like his Sim card, but I can't go there right now). Both Kaori and Hagiwara have feet shots too. No broken toenails. In this case, Kaori's feet stop moving. Unlike Fujisawa whose body moves on it's own, her body won't move. We haven't seen Fujisawa's feet.

Kaori can't make herself take action to deal with the situation with Hagiwara. Her choices are selfish, and they hurt Hagiwara. However, I actually think that's very realistic and very human. In unhealthy relationships (and even healthy ones), we can often hurt the people we care about. It's not easy leaving an established relationship. Especially, one that you want. We're not all as altruistic as Hagiwara.

But Hagiwara isn't off the hook.

He shares responsibility in the relationship lasting until this point.

Sei admits his relationship has problems.

But Hagiwara? He denies that they have a problem at first. He's choosing to ignore reality. A conversation with Sei later shows it too.

He wants to believe they've been honest with each other.

Even though he's not verbalizing his actual thoughts to Kaori. For those that don't remember, he has an entire sequence in his head at the BBQ with their friends of what he wants to say. But he doesn't say it. He's not being open and honest with Kaori.

He's also hiding what he truly desires. Kaori didn't say he couldn't drink the sweet coffee. She said it was unhealthy. Sei said it was unhealthy too. He drank it around Sei anyways.

He even bought it FOR Sei even though Sei thought it was too sweet. Hagiwara initiates with Sei.

It's actually been shown that Kaori doesn't care what Hagiwara eats. He's allowed to eat whatever he wants. Kaori isn't telling Hagiwara to go to sleep or eat the yogurt.

She controls sex (and maybe their social agenda). However, unlike Fujisawa, Kaori doesn't keep tight control on Hagiwara as a person.

Unlike Sei, Hagiwara isn't isolated. There's no traumatic backstory. He's more self-confident than Sei. Unlike Sei, he talks about the things he CAN do rather than things he can't. For example, in episode 1, he mentions that "he's good" at organizing parties.

Unlike Sei, he's not trapped in a locked room.

His affection might have been contained and hidden. I think he wonders whether Kaori has things she has to keep inside, because he knows there are things that he keeps inside. But...

He's not trapped. He's stuck. There's a difference.

Hagiwara didn't forget his ID. He didn't forget who he was. He lost his ID, because he's losing confidence in his relationship.

But he's still walking around this building freely. Apparently, he's been walking free without that ID for months. And when he gets a new ID? He chooses to put it back in the case that Kaori gave him.

He wanted to change his picture, but he hadn't taken the steps to do so. He could've changed the situation by being frank with Kaori at any point. Just like Kaori, he avoided. He has chosen to stay.

He chose not to call Kaori out. He doesn't like making people uncomfortable. His nature is to prioritize the other person. Unlike Kaori, his avoidance is inherently unselfish. But it got him stuck. I'm someone who was actively taught to avoid confrontation and to always think of others first. This hits hard.

Kaori was too selfish, but Hagiwara wasn't selfish enough. Being a little bit selfish is a good thing.

He chose NOT to talk about sex with her. He's not comfortable bringing it up with her, because he's not open with her.

Kaori doesn't communicate about sex, because she's afraid that not wanting sex makes her a bad woman. She's surrounded by heteronormativity after all. As @babyangelsky points out, this is what society treating libido as swamp does to you.

Hagiwara doesn't communicate about sex, because he's afraid prioritizing sex makes him a bad man. After all, wouldn't breaking up with his girlfriend just because of sex make him a bad person? Isn't his desire just making the river murky with swamp water? Stupid swamp. He doesn't realize sex is not the real issue. In the end, he has chosen to stay in this relationship even though he's unhappy.

It's why I had positive thoughts about the breakup scene. A lot could be said about Kaori forcing Hagiwara to be the one to breakup, but I was actually glad that Hagiwara said it. It was on both of them that the relationship lasted this long. Neither of them had been willing to speak up about what wasn't working. They both stayed stuck.

Hagiwara is finally speaking his mind. He calls Kaori out.

Hagiwara is no longer being passive. He's asserting control.

Hagiwara is no longer hiding what he wants. He's being open.

Hagiwara is now taking action to change the picture on his ID.

Previous posts about Hagiwara:

The Desire to Be A Good Man

I also have two additional posts about Hagiwara in my drafts. I'll try to get them posted this weekend.

[psychotic-nonsense]

Amateurs

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Credit for the idea - and some of the fic entirely - goes out to @thesolarangel !!!!! They allowed me to use their lovely idea, so many thanks, my friend!! Added my own flair but I hope I did your thoughts justice :D

Fudging the timeline a lil for this too. Continuity errors? Plotholes? The hell you going on about, bud, it's Valentines Day, we're just having fun here ;]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Steve Harrington, You are the most handsome, athletic, and considerate man I've ever known, and I want you to be my valentine. Meet me in the band hall at 4pm Love, your secret admirer

Steve eyes the note warily, confusion morphing his face. He can feel how comical it must look, but he doesn't really care. He just can't comprehend what he's looking at.

Senior year, fallen off his throne, the apocalypse factory sealed away (for forever, hopefully). He forgets how mundane life is outside of the hell he's lived the past three- almost four years.

Proven by the fact that, apparently, someone's left a Valentines card in his locker. And a little over a week until the day itself, no less.

It's the end of the school day, already 3:45. The note wasn't there this morning, so it must've been dropped somewhere throughout the day. He puts away his notebooks, closes the locker door, all while staring at the note.

Robin - the unlikely new friendship from this last summer from hell - is neck-deep in the locker across the hall from him, rambling about her day (and Vickie) and completely ignoring any outside force. It takes a little shove to get her out of her stupor.

"Hey, I was talking about something important here-"

"Oh sure, your endless pining is so interesting," he retorts, the hallway already blissfully empty so he can make such a joke. He shoves the note into Robin's face, holding it as she mouths the message to herself. "Any info about this?"

Robin scoffs, shoving Steve's hand away. "You know I'm bad at romance stuff, why ask me?" She turns back around to finish whatever she was doing in her locker.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I mean, do you have any idea who this could be? I don't know anyone from band."

"Who said it's from someone in band?"

"The note?"

"School's out, who's going to be in there? Pretty good place to sneak away for a Valentines meetup. Besides, I don't know everyone from band, what do you take me for, social?" She fake gags.

"Right, you just know the one-" He gets a shove on the arm for that.

"Sorry, Cupid, think you're on your own this time. Besides, you have been looking for a girl, right? Here's one falling right in your lap," Robin says, finally closing her locker. She pats his cheek, starting to walk away. "Hop to it, you're cutting it close!"

Steve stands frozen, watching her leave him behind. "Wha- I drove you here!" he calls out. "Where are you going-"

"It's Wednesday!" Robin calls over her shoulder. Right, the 'maintenance day' for Robin and her bike ("You can't forget how to ride a bike, Robs-" "Well I'm not testing it!"). No alibi for Steve, it seems.

He sighs heavily, quickly checking his watch. 3:55. He turns back to the note, seriously eyeing it and considering what might come out of this.

Oh well. Steve's not one to let someone down with punctuality, plus Robin was kinda right. Whether or not he'll have to let down this poor girl, he'll have to see.

He walks through the halls to the band room. Senses a little on edge from that uncanny feeling, but he does his best to ignore it. Hell's closed up, and everything's okay.

He makes it to the band hall just in time, yet upon walking in, the place is barren. Nothing but chairs and stands and the half-lit lights. Strange, how much more disappointed Steve feels about being stood up than he thought he would - meaning any at all. Still stings to know he's not always wanted.

Always needed, always the babysitter.

He's just about to turn around when a loud CRASH sounds from the far wall, and a storage closet door rattles as someone swears behind it.

Instincts now fully blaring in his ears, Steve immediately drops his backpack by the door and picks up a music stand, running to the back in a burst of energy. Upon throwing the door open, however, all that happens is a body falling into him, and the box said person was holding once again crashing to the floor.

Steve, in primary protective mode, drops the stand and grabs the person before they both hit the ground. A mop of dark hair is shoved into his mouth with an earthy cloud of smell around it, with a masculine grunt as they're caught and the feel of denim under Steve's hands.

Steve barely gets the person in a standing position without falling over himself, and this person takes a minute to get their legs working again. But they finally pick themselves up and massage their hands and something about that hair and smell seems so familiar...

"Whew! Thanks, man, I thought I was toast under that thing- Harrington?"

The person- guy finally turns around with a grateful smile that falls the moment he makes eye contact.

Eddie Munson. Local town Freak and D&D master, and the name Steve has heard way too much about since last semester. Thank the kids for joining that damn club.

Of course, Steve knew the guy already, word travels fast and appearances stay familiar in small towns. A three-peat senior, not too unlike Steve's super senior status (brain got too rattled after '84, and '85 didn't make it much better). A showman, either in the cafeteria or Steve's English class, he's always got something to make the people laugh. The kids praise him like a god, the halls whisper that he's the copycat of a deadbeat, and the town preaches that he's the harbinger of their fake hell.

But Munson doesn't seem dangerous to Steve right now. Nothing bad at all, actually, standing here under the light of a single sputtering light bulb that reflects in his big doe-like eyes just right, haloing his wispy hair into something angelic, and if Steve saw him in any other context he'd almost think him cute-

Oh.

Well shit.

It's well past 4pm. Munson's in the band hall by himself, in the dark.

Robin and Dustin have been telling Steve to 'broaden his horizons,' and didn't Steve himself say he 'liked more' in that food court booth?

And writing love letters sounds like something only a nerd would do...

Could it be him...?

"Munson, h-hey," Steve stutters out, realizing it's been a bit too long since anything was said. He throws the confused-curious-scared-relieved crisis to the back of his mind, focusing all his energy on just acting normal. 'Casual' went out the damn window when one of his hands ran through his hair. "What, uh.. what're you doing here?"

Thank god for that simple little response. Eddie latches on to it with a smile that makes little dimples show on his cheek, though they're gone too soon when he turns to kick the half cardboard, half duct tape box still in the storage closet.

"Just repaying some old debts," he says, that same jesting lightness he'd throw in quips against Mrs. Schneider. Eddie snaps his fingers, brings those so bright eyes back around to Steve. "Say, think you could give me a hand? Could use some old jock strength here."

Steve lets the jab roll past him, he's heard worse from the kids. He just agrees - because who is Steve Harrington if not ever helpful? - and steps into the cramped storage closet. It takes some maneuvering to make sure the poor thing doesn't fall apart in his arms, but he gets the box up off the ground. Nothing too strenuous, but Eddie is quick to direct Steve on which shelf to place the box. One more strain against the old cardboard gets them both in a panicked frenzy, but their combined push gets the box settled.

Now they're cramped in a tight storage closet shoulder to shoulder, and Steve is hyperaware of the presence. Eddie doesn't seem like that bad of a guy, he's willing to give it a shot, but he's afraid his charm might not work the same-

Eddie lightly slaps Steve's arm, drawing his attention and dear lord his eyes look so much brighter now- "Not that I'm not grateful for the aid, Mister Strongman, but only satisfaction brings a curious cat back." He leans against the opposite shelving of the closet easily, not very eager to leave the tiny space, it seems. "What brings you into the den of us freaks?"

Eddie looks so confident, speaks every word with an air of comfort and ease, that it makes the last of Steve's anxiety leave him in a huff of light laughter. He just draws in a breath, suddenly very curious to see where this goes, and starts up the charm.

"You tell me, Munson," he responds lightly. Tilts his head so he's looking up at Eddie through his eyelashes, pulls the face Nancy used to call stupid and begs that it isn't anymore. The smile is easy, though. It's so easy to smile around a presence like this.

Yet Eddie's comfort immediately wavers, and he looks surprised. "Uh..." he chuckles out nervously, "what's that supposed to mean, Harrington?"

Oh, so Munson plays hard to get? He can work with that. So much more familiar in this game, Steve just saunters the last few inches to face Eddie with only a breath's space between them. Keeps just enough distance, though, to make them both crave the closeness, leaning against the shelf beside Eddie to look down on him. "C'mon, Eddie... you know why I'm here."

And may the corpses of Upside Down monsters be his witness, Eddie "The Freak" Munson damn near blushes at the tone and proximity. Bingo.

"I- uh-" Eddie clears his throat. "'Fraid I don't recall," he mutters. There's a little bit of tension in his shoulders, hidden in the motion as Eddie leans further into the little space between them, staring Steve right in the eyes as he says, "Care to enlighten me?"

Steve is more than happy to remind him, especially if it gets the last of that tension out of him. It doesn't look right on Eddie. The line's been cast, the lovely fish caught, and now it's time to reel it in. "Well, got word lately of a new... development in Hawkins High." Steve meets Eddie's eyes and loses himself in them a little. "Figured I'd come by to talk to the source."

To Steve, it's the smoothest pickup line this side of the midwest.

But Eddie's entire demeanor sours in an instant. His shoulders tense, his eyebrow furrows so much that glorious light is gone, and he leans forward not by want, but by attack. "Alright, listen here Harrington, I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt for those kids, but I swear if you don't pick your next words carefully-"

"Woah woah woah, hey wait!" Steve immediately backs up to give Eddie space - not much considering they're still in the damn closet, Steve walks right into the opposite shelving rack with a loud clatter - the tension in the air taking an instant 180. "I didn't- What did they- What're you talking about, I didn't mean any harm!!"

Eddie's still eyeing him warily, but he's not leaving despite the open door. That's a start. "What did you mean then, your highness?" he spits, and it sends a crack straight through Steve's heart.

One that shines light on the ignorant hope resting all on that damn...

"Did... did you not want to talk to me?" Steve asks quietly.

The volume seems to wear Eddie down a little too, as the light comes back to his eyes and the tension loosens. "Where'd you get that idea?" he asks, stern but lacking in power.

Suddenly this whole attempt - finding the note, following it, saving Eddie from the box, helping him, daring to take the leap - feels so fucking stupid that Steve can't believe he went through with it.

But Eddie's looking at him like he genuinely wants to know. Not just to get Steve away, but to know what's got him so out of sorts. Like he's bothering to care.

So Steve fumbles for the words with Eddie waiting patiently, his defenses falling with each failed sentence as Steve's too open heart shows him everything. In the end, Steve gives up, reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out the note. Looks away from Eddie as he holds it out for him to take. Feels his treacherous heart stutter at the brush of their hands as Eddie takes it. Can't bear to turn around, his face too flushed and his heart too worn as he hears the note crinkle, at Eddie's tiny gasp as everything clicks.

"Steve..." Eddie whispers, pleads, and Steve is oh so weak to such a sound. He looks up and comes face to face with an expression just as hopeful, as daring, as Steve has felt this entire interaction.

Eddie's a smart guy, it seems. He knows. But still he dares to ask. "You... thought I wrote this?"

Steve clears his throat, can't look away as he waves at the note held almost reverently in Eddie's hand. "It was 4pm when I showed up, wasn't it?" Jokes, feels the sincerity choke him a little. Eddie laughs like he gets it, looks back down at the note.

"I'm almost insulted then, Steve." Something happens to his face then that crushes all of the leftover tension in the closet. Brings back the right one with a teasing glance back at him, Steve's heart stuttering again. "This little thing-" he waves the note, "-was written by a complete amateur."

It's the same game, same rules, but he's playing with a teammate now and it feels so much sweeter. "Oh yeah?" Steve tempts. Doesn't try looking a certain way, not The King or The Hair. Just Steve. "Think you could do better?"

"Mhm, certainly," Eddie drawls. He looks back down at the note, steps off the shelf but doesn't dare step closer. "Shouldn't expect much, it's just an invitation... but to encourage an appearance, one should entice the recipient with the truth." He takes a slow, single step forward. To Steve it feels like crossing the world just to get them closer. "I'll give the girl this, she got all this right. But it just scratches the surface, doesn't it?"

Finally, Eddie looks up, and his eyes are black holes that Steve never wants to fight and his smile one that Steve would blind himself on if it meant it was the last thing he ever saw.

It's a universal truth that Steve Harrington falls hard. But the way Eddie's looking at him makes him hope like a fool that Eddie fell first.

"Because based on what I've seen..." Eddie takes another step closer, enough for their feet to rest beside each other, their knees almost touching, "Steve Harrington isn't just considerate, or athletic.

"He's brave. Smart. Loyal. Selfless. Seems like he'll throw himself into danger if it meant he's saving a life." Eddie takes that last step forward, leans fully into Steve's space with an open expression that is at once confident-scared-hopeful-real. Steve wouldn't look away if his life depended on it, because dying under Eddie's touch, Eddie's words, Eddie's gaze, would be the kindest death he could ever have.

"He's kind, cares so much it's a wonder his heart has room for the blood that keeps such a perfect guy alive." Eddie's almost whispering now. The shelving biting into their every limb is second to the tension pushing them together. "And while handsome is true, I'd have rather used something like... gorgeous."

That's when Eddie's eyes drift down to watch the shiver those words send through Steve catch right on his lip. "Sounds much more fitting, don't you think, Stevie?" Eddie looks back up to meet Steve's, and it's the most exposed Eddie's ever seemed, the most seen Steve's ever felt.

Steve can't breathe, can barely move his head in fear of being scalded by the heat of his face. "Yeah..." he gasps out. Swallows, his voice shaking as he forces it to move. "S-something like that..."

Steve Harrington is stuttering. He couldn't be ashamed if he tried, because what else could a weak man do to survive this?

The last of Eddie's confidence slips then, like he's just as weak. "Tell me I'm wrong," he whispers, pleads. "Tell me all the wishing I've done all this time was for nothing."

Steve doesn't have to. All he has to do is take that final leap, grabbing Eddie's waist. It's the answer to the begging left unsaid.

Waits to catch Eddie as he finally, finally closes that last tiny space.

Eddie kisses Steve with the emotion of a hundred years of waiting, the ferocity of fearing it going away, but the care of never daring to let it go now. Steve kisses Eddie back with the desperation of a lonely man given a hand, the strength behind a promise of protection, and the love hidden away in his poor heart finally allowed to burst.

He's lost in the feeling - Eddie's hands in his hair, Eddie's body pushing them closer, Eddie's lips and tongue on his own, Eddie's sweet gasps of air between their mutual desperation. It's a beautiful push and pull that Steve never wants to win.

A hand goes to Eddie's jaw, holds it reverently, tracing the bone and skin and motion. Another goes down to the side of Steve's neck, a light pressure, feeling the pulse and air and swallow.

They don't dare leave each other's lips, can't move away from the tight hold trying to connect every inch of them together, barely leaves room to breathe. Eddie wants to bite, Steve wants to see, but the thought of leaving is impossible to them, so they don't.

Until there's a sudden knock at the door of the band hall that breaks the haze. Steve pulls away to huff in anger, glaring at the wall they're hidden behind to whomever is behind it. Eddie shakes his head at the motion, laughs quietly, pulling Steve's attention back like a moth to flame.

"Steve?" calls out a tentative female voice. If Steve wasn't so drunk on Eddie's everything, he'd feel guilt over the poor girl finally showing up.

Eddie, however, just grins like this is another stage. Pulls away - with much agony from them both - from Steve just enough to look out the door. Steve can hear the girl gasp in shock when he's visible.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Eddie calls out. They're still close enough for the sound to vibrate under Steve's hands through Eddie's entire being. "Haven't seen him!"

The girl mumbles out a profuse apology and promptly exits herself. Such a shame, that people don't want to be around Eddie. What a blessing, that that leaves him all for Steve.

Eddie barely has time to close the closet door enough to keep them hidden more before Steve breaks and surges forward again. Catches Eddie's mouth while he's mid laugh, Steve mid smile. Nearly splits his lip with the force, but Eddie soothes it with his tongue before it can sting.

"Still breaking hearts, huh Steve?" Eddie whispers against his lips. Steve backs away, for the sound of Eddie's words is far sweeter than the taste of them, and the sight of Eddie's eyes far warmer than them both.

"'S long as it's not this one," Steve whispers back. Kisses Eddie again right, if a bit chaste. "Wanna know it instead, if his owner will let me?" Can't help but beg even under Eddie's full attention.

But Eddie just takes it in stride. Grabs the hand on his face and pulls it down to rest over his heart. "It is a little broken already, I'm afraid." His expression falls, just a smidge, but Steve sees it like clouds over the sun. "Sorry for assuming the worst earlier. I'm still scared I'm gonna wake up..."

Steve just does his best to hold Eddie's hand back. "You dream of me?" he can't help but ask.

Eddie looks at him with a look of pure longing. "Can't dream of anything else."

Steve holds him tighter, everywhere. Hands, body, sight. Mind and soul and heart. "Would you let me heal you?"

The clouds pass and Eddie holds him back, bonking their foreheads together - "If you dare, rearrange me so you may fit between the pieces..." - before going back to his lips.

'I wouldn't want to be anywhere else...'

Steve barely knows Eddie, but he wants to try. Eddie barely knows Steve, and he wants to show him everything. Robin and the kids are going to go crazy with this, but Steve's willing to brace for the aftermath.

So long as it means this secret admirer will stay by him for their lives to come.

[the-casbah-way]

even though i really love what hrt is doing to me it has made me so self conscious because i know my body is changing more visibly now and i don't like the idea that people who know me very well will be able to see that. i just hate the idea of people looking at me. and i worry that the people i care about will like me less the more they look at me because i'm ugly

[blairwld]

Dark Emma is so silly. She is doing improv.

[sskk-manifesto]

(´；ω；｀)

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[reiderwriter]

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

[bisexualbaker]

Why do people keep recommending Dreamwidth as a Tumblr alternative, when Dreamwidth and Tumblr are so different?

To be flat-out honest, it's because Dreamwidth has so many things that Tumblr users say they want, even if it's also lacking a lot of features that Tumblr users have come to love:

Dreamwidth has incredibly lax content hosting rules. I'd say that it's slightly more restrictive than AO3, but only just slightly, and only because AO3's abuse team has been so overwhelmed and over-worked. Otherwise, the hosting policies are pretty similar. You want to go nuts, show nuts? You can do that on Dreamwidth.

In fact, Dreamwidth is so serious about "go nuts, show nuts", it gave up the ability to accept transactions through PayPal in 2009 to protect our ability to do that. (It's also one reason why Dreamwidth doesn't have an app: Dreamwidth will never be beholden to Apple's content rules this way.)

Dreamwidth cares about your privacy; it doesn't sell your data, and barely collects any to begin with. As far as I'm aware, it only collects what it needs to run the site. The owners have also spoken out on behalf of internet privacy many times, and are prepared to put their money where their mouth is.

No ads. Ever. Period. They mean it. Dreamwidth is entirely user funded.

Posts viewed in reverse chronological order; no algorithm, opt-in or otherwise. No algorithm at all. No "For You" or "Suggested" page. You still entirely create and curate your own experience.

The ability to make posts that only your "mutuals", or even only a specific subset of your "mutuals", can see. Want to make a post that's only open to Bonnie, Clyde, Butch, and Cassidy? You can do that! Want to make a post that's only open to Bonnie and Butch, but Clyde and Cassidy can't see shit? You can do that, too!

The owners have forsworn NFTs and the blockchain in general. Not as big a worry now as it was even a year ago, but still good to know!

We are explicitly the customers of Dreamwidth. Dreamwidth wants to make us happy, so any changes they make (and they do make changes) are made with us in mind, and after exploring as many possibilities as they can.

Dreamwidth is very transparent about their policies and changes. If you want to know why they're making a specific change, or keeping or getting rid of a feature, they will tell you. You don't have to find out ten months later that they're locked into a contract to keep it for a year (cough cough Tumblr Live cough cough).

So those are some things that Tumblr users would probably love about Dreamwidth.

Another reason Dreamwidth keeps being recommended is that a significant portion of the Age 30+ crowd spent a lot of earlier fandom years on a site known as LiveJournal. Dreamwidth may not be much like Tumblr, but it it started out as a code fork of LiveJournal, so it will be very familiar to anyone who spent any time there. Except better.

Finally, we're recommending Dreamwidth because some of the things that Tumblr users want are just... not going to happen on the web as it is now. Image hosting is the big one for this. Maybe in the future, the price of data will be much cheaper, and Dreamwidth will be able to host as much as we all want for a pittance that a fraction of the userbase will happily pay for everyone, but right now that's just not possible.

Everywhere you want to go that hosts a lot of images will either be running lots of ads, selling your data, or both.

Dreamwidth knows how much it costs to host your data, and has budgeted for that. They are hosting within their means, within our means.

Dreamwidth is the closest thing we may ever get to AO3 as a social media platform. One of the co-owners is from, and still in, fandom; she knows our values, because they are also her values. It may as well be the Blogsite Of Our Own.

[psychronia]

I've been rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender because why not and I'm losing my mind at Zuko's proper introduction. I don't know if it's hindsight, shifting characterizations, or just me not watching this in a long time, but this was amazing.

We start off showing he's an impatient and very angry kid. Reasonable, and the sort of flaw we might expect to see in a villain. Kinda funny that he expects to go up against an adult and fully 4-Element realized Avatar, but the kid is desperate and Iroh clearly expects his nephew to get the banishment-denial kicked out of him.

What's important here, though, is Zuko's introduction to the Southern Water Tribe.

Here, we have a very intimidating entrance where his entire ship just sails through the ice right up to the village's front door. It's quite ominous and this is our first proper introduction to how the Fire Nation interacts with a foreign people.

Sokka charges, I'm assuming fully prepared to die, and Zuko casually knocks him out of the way. Okay, so clearly the Water Tribe are entirely outgunned.

He asks "Where are you hiding him?" and the people of the Water Tribe go silent. I assume they're either just too scared to talk or actually protecting Aang.

Whatever the case, it's important to note that the Southern Water Tribe know the terror the Fire Nation can inflict. We have a whole episode dedicated to tracking down a division of raiders. Sokka was able to not only identify the ash-mixed snow as signs of an incoming attack, but estimate how many ships the amount of ash measures to. These are a people who have experience being terrorized and are probably expecting something terrible to happen.

And then, after they don't answer, Zuko grabs Gran-Gran. There was a horror sting to it, and everything the tribe knows about the Fire Nation suggests that Zuko is about to threaten or straight up hurt her to get answers. Classic "terrorize the elderly" bad guy stuff.

And then...

He goes "He's (the Avatar) be about this age and is a master of all four elements!?" and lets her go.

And all of a sudden, the tension that was built up is shattered as Zuko went "I know, I'll give them a reference for the person I'm looking for because clearly they're confused and I wasn't specific enough."

This went from a show of villainy to a show of Zuko being totally socially awkward and misreading the situation entirely. Not helping is that when he does try to menace them a moment later, his fire is slow and angled quite safely.

It still worked on the Water Tribe because they're understandably scared, but all I could think of is that this was the equivalent of a playground bully trying to make someone flinch with that fake-out lunge thing.

Because the fact-and something we'll come to learn-is that Zuko is TERRIBLE at being a Fire Nation oppressor. He's capable of doing morally dubious things and is a competent fighter. But he's lousy at terrorizing people and cruelty-that's kind of the point of his banishment.

And while we can see the story paint this picture of Zuko's true character as the story goes on with hints of good and conflicting loyalties, here we get to see just how bad he is at being "the bad guys". He's still unambiguously being the villain of this scene, and it makes no real difference to the oppressed themselves, but there is a comical gap between where Zuko thinks he is, where he actually is, and somehow it still puts him on the same page as his victims just because of how terrible the Fire Nation's influence is on everyone involved.

[covenofagatha]

Spitroasting with g!p Agatha and g!p Rio

*gasp* who said that 🫢

I'm definitely not thinking about the same thing 👀 anyways...

Two is better than one

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, g!p Rio, spitroasting, daddy Rio, mommy Agatha, threesome, squirting, degradation, praise, light spanking

When Agatha gets home from work, the first thing she hears when she steps into the kitchen is the faint sound of slapping skin and your high-pitched whines and she chuckles to herself. 

Rio was always easier to break than she was, all it took is that doe-eyed look you do so well coupled with a daddy, please, and Rio couldn’t resist. 

So Agatha slowly steps up the stairs, careful to not make a sound lest she alert either of you. She creeps to the doorway and peeks around it, and the fabric of her pants instantly tightens. 

Rio’s got you on your knees and elbows on the bed, one hand wound in your hair, the other gripping your hip tightly, while she quickly thrusts her cock inside you. When she draws out, Agatha can see her length glistening with your wetness. Rio’s face is contorted with pleasure and Agatha wonders how long she’s been fucking you. 

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” Rio barks, slapping her hand on your ass and you emit another moan. 

It takes you a moment to respond because of the dizziness in your head. “So fucking good, daddy, your cock is so deep inside me — fuck, daddy, please!” 

“Better hope mommy doesn’t come home and see what a slut you’re being right now,” Rio grunts, pushing you down further into the mattress and you gasp at the new angle. She’s hitting your g-spot with every time and you can feel your orgasm building up. Tension is coiling in your body and you just need a bit more—

“Oh, well mommy is here,” Agatha says, stepping into the room and clapping slowly. “And she certainly does see what a slut you are.” Rio freezes inside you, her cock pulsing. You turn your head to watch Agatha walk over to you while you start to lazily move back and forth on Rio’s cock, who hisses. You’re by the edge of the bed so she comes to stand right in front of you.

“Hi, mommy,” you greet casually amidst the squelching sounds you’re making. If you act like her darling little girl, maybe she won’t punish you too badly. There’s an unspoken rule that you and Rio have to get Agatha’s permission before having sex, and you definitely didn’t today. 

In fact, Agatha told you this morning before she left in no uncertain terms, that you and Rio had to wait until she got home today. 

But then you had gotten horny and it doesn’t take much to convince Rio to fuck you. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” she says, tracing her fingers over your lips before shoving them into your mouth. You gag, eyes rolling to look up at her through your eyelashes, and you don’t miss the flicker of heat in her eyes. “You know I could hear you the second I got home?” 

You try to look embarrassed. “Whoops.” 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and pulls her sticky fingers out before wiping them on your cheeks. “Well, if you want the entire neighborhood to know what a slut you are for us, that’s fine.” She unbuckles her belt from her pants, slides it out, and throws it somewhere across the room. “But, you see, honey, mommy and daddy have a reputation to uphold.” She undoes the button to her pants and drags the zipper down slowly. “So I think I need to shut you up.” 

She pulls out her already-hard cock and you involuntarily clench around Rio. Her nails dig into your hips but you barely even feel it over how drunk you feel. You’ve never had both of them inside you at the same time. 

“Keep going, Rio,” Agatha orders, stroking her cock and watching the way your face changes when Rio starts to thrust back into you roughly. Agatha’s cock gets harder under her hand and your mouth is watering from the thought of tasting her. 

Rio’s cock is longer, but Agatha’s is girthier, so your jaw always hurts more after giving the older woman a blowjob. But the ache is delicious during it, and you can’t even imagine how good it’s going to feel to have Rio this deep inside you while Agatha fucks your mouth. 

Agatha waits until you’re a moaning mess before knocking Rio’s hand that’s holding onto your hair aside, taking its place with her own hand, and dragging her hot cock against your lips. She spreads her precum all over you, getting your cheeks and chin covered as well, before positioning it at your open mouth. 

You look up at her pleadingly and she slaps her cock against your stuck-out tongue a few times, making you moan at the weight. 

And then she pushes in all while Rio is pounding into you hard. 

Agatha starts out with shallow thrusts, just bobbing into your mouth and pulling back, and Rio’s grunts get louder behind you, her pace becoming more erratic. 

When Agatha finally gets her cock all the way down your throat, she pauses for a moment and just revels in the way your mouth feels around her, and you hollow out your cheeks and suck, making her whimper. 

Rio slows down, more than likely to stave off her own orgasm, so you’re being gently rocked forward onto Agatha’s cock. But then Agatha starts to move her hips and Rio matches her, and they’re both using you at the same time and you’ve never felt pleasure this intense before. 

“Look at our little whore, Rio,” Agatha chokes out and you can barely hear her over the wet sounds from your cunt and your gagging. You cough around her cock and it sends spittle pouring down your chin. “Taking both our cocks like the good slut she is. So fucking desperate for us. Oh, fuck—” You rub your tongue against the underside of her cock, where she’s really sensitive, and she pitches forward. 

“Such a good girl for mommy and daddy,” Rio coos before spanking you roughly. You whimper and the vibrations make Agatha’s hand tighten in your hair. Your jaw starts to burn but you try to relax and open a bit wider so Agatha can keep using your mouth. “Are we making you feel good, doll?” 

You babble something but it’s completely unintelligible with Agatha’s cock in your mouth and the fog in your brain, so you settle for nodding your head. Rio pulls your hips up to arch your back even more and you moan loudly, but it’s muffled. Rio is hitting so deep inside you that your toes are curling and your eyes are rolling back into your head. Both of their cocks are throbbing inside you and you know none of you are going to be able to last much longer. 

Your pussy clenches sporadically around Rio’s cock and your throat convulses around Agatha’s, and both of them are grunting with the effort of fucking you. You miss the shared glance between them and then all of a sudden, their thrusts match. They both push in and out of you at the same time and it’s completely overwhelming. 

“So fucking good,” Agatha rasps, both of them speeding up and your eyes gloss over. Tension like you’ve never felt is skating through your body, heat thrumming in your veins, and you feel everything. It’s all heightened — the way Rio’s cock drags against your walls, the way Agatha’s cock twitches against your tongue, you’re hyper-aware of Rio’s nails in your hips and Agatha’s hands both tangled in your hair. “Taking our cocks like a perfect slut. Our perfect slut. So good for mommy and daddy.” 

Rio starts to rut into you, shallowly but still quickly, and it feels like her cock is swelling inside you. “Fuck, doll, daddy’s gonna cum.” 

A thrill runs through you and you clench around her even more, but Agatha tightly says, “Not yet. Wait for me. We’re going to fill her up at the same time.” A loud keen rips itself out of your mouth, clear as day even with Agatha’s rough thrusts. Your throat is raw and your jaw is aching and tears are pouring down your face, mixing with the saliva on your chin, but you’re so fucking close and you need them to cum. Pressure is building up in your stomach in a way that’s never happened before, almost like you have to pee. 

But then they both give you a really hard thrust and the pressure explodes. You let out a sob and then you feel a gush of wetness and instant relief and Rio whimpers. 

“She fucking squirted,” Rio moans in awe, her breathing growing heavier. Agatha makes a pained sound and you know that they’re both so close.

So you suck Agatha’s cock roughly and she swears before stiffening. Rio sees this and drives her hips into you one last time before their warm seed spreads. You fall apart even more as they pump their cum into you, all three of you groaning and grunting. 

Agatha pulls out first and you gasp for breath, the cum that you didn’t swallow leaking out the side of your mouth. She cleans her cock off using your face and then swipes at the trail of cum with a finger and stuffs it back into your mouth. 

Rio stays inside you until she softens, both of you enjoying the feeling of her twitching every now and then when you clench from an aftershock. When her cock slips out of your body, her cum oozes out in globs and you fall onto the bed, absolutely spent and panting. 

The younger woman comes to stand in front of you next to Agatha and you can see how absolutely soaked you got her. There’s another pang of heat inside you when you take in how wet their cocks are. 

Agatha begins to slowly stroke hers and your breath catches in your throat when it slowly starts to harden again. 

“Let’s give her a second to recover,” she says, looking at Rio, “and then we switch. I want to know how her pussy feels after you’ve already cum inside it.” 

You can’t help the moan that escapes you. 

Fuck. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs

[radiant-reid]

Reunion

Summary: JJ never knew you were dating one of her teammates and that you broke up because of her, but seeing him at JJ's wedding years later changes things.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then smutttt)

Content Warning: 18+ Smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of a breeding kink)

Word Count: 2.1k

"So, how's mystery boy?"

After skipping your usual Tuesday night plans twice, thanks to JJ being away on cases, you're finally back in your best friend's living room having a glass of wine and a cheese platter.

It's been an abnormal amount of time to go without seeing each other since you both ended up in DC after moving out of East Allegheny to different colleges. Even with men in the mix now, you both make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. However, her busy schedule and frequent flights to New Orleans have meant you've spent some time apart.

Unknown to her, she knows the so-called mystery boy. Very well, in fact. "He's well." You say slyly, unable not to grin widely.

JJ throws her head back dramatically. "Come on, Y/n! Some detail would be nice."

"It's good." You try again. "He's the sweetest. I'm very happy."

She smirks, letting you know an interesting question is coming your way. "How's the sex?"

It never takes more than a glass of wine for her to be that loose. You don't miss a beat in your answer. "Fabulous."

"Okay, so can I meet him soon?" She pushes like she has been for quite some time.

You wonder what she would think. What would her expression do if you were to say his name out loud right here? Maybe it's not that deep but getting with JJ's closest colleague is dangerous. It was a concern at the start, a reason not to start, but you fell in love with Spencer Reid quicker than you could ever imagine.

"Sure, JJ." You agree, trying to look positively about it. You can only assume she's thinking about the worst possible scenario about your mystery man. He's a criminal or he's far too old for you or he's an ex you promised not to get back with. There are too many options.

She looks triumphant. "Yes!"

You just smile, sending the conversation in a different direction by asking about her boyfriend. He sounds like a great guy and you can tell she's happier than ever before.

Three months ago you met Spencer Reid. It was JJ's birthday and your duty as her best friend to throw her a fun surprise party. That took some coordination with a friend from work. Firstly, that was Penelope, but in order to lure JJ, you needed Spencer Reid. He was a little slow with replying to your texts, but lovely. And after you met him, you were hooked.

Spencer was perfect. Gorgeous, funny, intelligent. His incredible shyness had you confused when he asked you out for dinner the next morning.

Too many espresso martinis provide an explanation for why JJ has no recollection of you flirting with him all night.

You see Spencer as much as you can, but similar to JJ's, his schedule often doesn't allow for consistent visits. So whatever time you do have, you make the most of it. He's still the most amazing boyfriend you've had. Kind, caring, witty, fun, and playful.

He gets whisked away on a case to Miami not long after being home. You didn't know things would be so different the next time you saw him.

He goes quiet on you. You know their cases are intense but you haven't heard from him in an entire week and that's not right.

Can I come over? He finally texts you and you're guessing he's back in DC.

It sounds a little ominous and the message sends a chill down your spine. Sure. I can't wait to see you. There isn't a reply and you sit in limbo in your apartment for almost an hour before he knocks at the door.

You smile when you open it, although you're slightly annoyed there was zero communication or ETA from him. "Hey, Spence, how was it?"

"You knew." He says in a cold, accusatory tone. It's nothing you've ever heard from him.

"Sorry?" You repeat, moving to the side so he can come into your apartment.

He steps in, barely looking at you. "About JJ and Will." He explains.

A little frown takes over your expression. Surely he's not angry that he only just found out. An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "Sorry, Spence. She didn't want anyone knowing."

"I'm your boyfriend!" He exclaims. "You're not supposed to lie to me."

"I didn't." You join the offensive, crossing your arms. You're not enthused about what he's accusing you of. It wasn't even your secret to tell him.

He looks disappointed, face dropping. "Come on." He sighs. "How am I meant to be with you if you don't trust me enough to tell me who our friend is dating?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell." You try to talk some reason into him, pushing down that sick feeling in your stomach telling you that he's breaking up with you.

Spencer shakes his head, his decision- as much as it's killing him- completely made. "I can't do this."

His words make your world come crashing down and you almost can't believe it. You slump to the couch while he makes his way to the door with sad, slow footsteps.

He's looking at you, waiting for you to ask him to say. "Can we not tell JJ?" You ask softly.

"Fine." That's the last thing he tells you before walking out the door, shutting it firmly.

That's it.

The last thing Spencer tells you.

Then he's gone from your life. You talk about him less to JJ and she picks up on what happened and stops asking about him.

You expect to see him when Henry's born, or even at a point in his life. Somehow, you don't. Your schedules never line up and then JJ switches jobs. There's a myriad of reasons but it doesn't happen. You both go on with separate lives.

And then JJ and Will are getting married. You get a frantic call from your best friend's soon-to-be-husband who whispers secret plans to you over the phone. It's perfect, you know JJ will adore the simplicity and elegance of a backyard wedding.

You're there as soon as you can be, helping set up Rossi's backyard so it's gorgeous for the most gorgeous person you know.

You're the maid of honor, of sorts. And you don't get a chance to ask who the best man is before JJ arrives and the ceremony begins.

You strike out as soon as you spot a tall brunette. A tall brunette who made you the happiest you've ever been with a man. And he's still just as handsome.

His eyes bulge when he sees you but he keeps a straight face and clenches his teeth while the ceremony continues. You're mostly focused on how beautiful JJ looks and how sweet their wedding is, but you can't help your mind drifting to Spencer.

You hadn't seen him dressed up like this when you were dating and the tuxedo is a perfect look on him.

"Y/n." He comes up to you when you're getting yourself a glass of champagne.

"Spencer." You reply. His tone doesn't let much about how he's feeling on. All you get is a glimmer of shock.

He stands against the table. "Maid of honor?"

You shrug, a little confused at his question. "You know, I'm surprised I haven't seen you all these years." You admit, letting some honesty slip.

"It was slightly intentional." He offers.

You don't let it offend you. "Best man?"

"I think that means we're supposed to sleep together."

You nearly spit out your sip of wine. There's no way the shy Spencer Reid you once knew just said that.

"We've done that." You reply, trying to keep a straight face after the out-of-pocket comment.

Spencer tilts his head to the side. "You're right."

You really don't know how it happens. Maybe it's a few too many drinks. There's definitely not enough alcohol in your bloodstream to solely blame that. Spencer Reid is as hot as they get. And it's been... longer than you're willing to admit since you've had sex. Even longer since it was good sex.

So there isn't anything telling you to stop when Spencer pushes you up against the door of a room in Rossi's house, lips firmly against yours.

Your dress is hiked up around your waist while his fingers trace up and down your thigh before he even thinks about locking the door. Both of you are far too wrapped up in the moment to think securely.

His hands are quick to the zip of your dress, sliding it down effortlessly and letting it pool at your feet. He takes a moment to look at you and you have to admit, you're a little worried about his reaction. You don't doubt Spencer Reid can pull beautiful women.

"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, juxtaposing the way he's practically clawing your clothes off you.

"Are you going to compliment me or fuck me like you promised you would?" You ask him, waltzing over to the bed and sitting on the edge.

Spencer smirks at your smart mouth. "You asked for it."

He's kneeling on the floor in front of the bed in seconds, with no regard for his suit pants being wrinkled, just on his knees. There's a sense of urgency that doesn't allow for the time for him to take your panties off so he opts for shifting them to the side.

There's also no time to waste as his tongue melds with your folds, tracing patterns. No one has ever come close to giving head like Spencer does. It's truly mindblowing, the pressure of his tongue and the suction method he uses. You're instantly in bliss, head thrown back against the covers as you moan.

You've lost it when his fingers enter you, pushing past with little resistance. "Holy shit, Spencer. You're incredible."

"Sing my praises." He says against your pussy.

You do. Not even possessing the ability to be embarrassed about it.

And you don't stop. You're withering and moaning on the bed, tugging his curls while he continues pleasing you. Eventually, it's too much. His fingers pumping in and out of you combined with his tongue wrapped around your clit have you finishing in no time.

"Still as good as I remember." As if he couldn't get any hotter, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.

Spencer rises from his knees, now much taller than you. You tug your underwear off before unclipping your bra. "Fuck me, Spencer." You reach out for his belt buckle, toying with it. "Please."

Spencer has lost the shy, timid nature he had the first few times you had sex and he quickly takes off his belt and pants. Once his suit jacket is tossed across the room, Spencer pulls your legs to the end of the bed, making sure you wrap your ankles around his waist. His hands rest on either side of your head and you're precisely where you want to be.

"You're so hot." You tell him with a smirk.

He grins, spreading your legs and inching inside you. The look on his face is an instant confidence boost. Clearly, he's a man in bliss, head thrown back and tongue parting his lips.

"Fuck." He pants.

You agree, barely able to speak from how hard he's pounding you and how good it feels. Although it's annoying to admit, you've never had as good sex as with Spencer.

Your hands wrap around his forearms, noticeably bigger than last time. "Spencer." You moan. "Please. So good."

He caresses your chest, paying attention to your boobs like he hadn't before. "Y/n." He groans, not slowing his pace up. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. "Can I?" He asks.

It's unlike you to have even let him start without protection but you're not thinking straight enough. All you know is you need Spencer. "Please."

He finishes as deep inside you as he can get, leaning down to kiss you softly. You're breathless like he is when he flops down next to you.

One of Spencer's palms touches your cheek, forcing you to look at him rather than the ceiling. "Hey, pretty girl." He says softly and it makes your heart flip in a way it shouldn't. "Can I take you on a date, Y/n?"

The smile creeping onto your face can't be helped. "Yes. Please."

[jayktoralldaylong]

One of my favourite things about Arcane is that all the couples can be read as toxic, which is GREAT.

I'm tired of people bringing morality debates into dark media. Let dark media be fucking dark. You guys wouldn't survive a day in the TMA fandom, needing everyone to be as good as gold. How are they going to make for enjoyable complex characters if they're not morally grey. In fact, I wish there'd been more expansion on just how morally black they can become!

"CaitVi is so toxic" According to lesbian statistics, that sounds just about accurate. 💀 Heck, I wish Caitlyn had done more (Not really, but it would have been nice to further explore the darkness in her heart). Isn't it adorable how she immediately folded as soon as Vi called her cupcake? Caitlyn's like one of those villains that will consistently do the most....until it comes to someone else hurting her girlfriend. The only one allowed to hurt her girlfriend is her. 💀

Then let's talk about Vi. Someone pointed out how Vi never cared about Zaun's independence in the first place and many people yelled that they were wrong. But actually, they were right. Vi never wanted Zaun. Zaun was Silco's dream, and Jinx inherited that dream cause Silco would never shut up about it. Vi wanted Piltover to take responsibility for all the shit they allowed to happen in the Undercity. That's a part of the reason she joined up with Caitlyn in the first place. Let's not forget she wasn't dissuaded when she dragged Jayce down to fight with her and he killed a child. Children been dying, it's been her whole life. Someone needed to do something about it, and Zaun would have just isolated the people from all the privileges that Piltover SHOULD have been providing for them. Some people just can't accept that Independence cannot in fact solve every problem, and sometimes independence is colonisers running away from the responsibility of fixing the mess that they started in the first place.

Besides, we all know Vi joined up with the Enforcers because "I feel like I am worthless if I can't be of service." She'd already run out of family members to serve, Caitlyn was the next best thing. She's just like Jayce.

And speaking of Jayce, let's talk about his violent levels of codependency with anyone who'll give him attention. People LOOOOVE to talk about Mel, but it's there with Viktor too. When bro wasn't basing his worth on his inventions, he was centering it around Viktor.

Viktor who decided at some point in his life that he would not LIVE without Jayce. He was fine dying without him, but living without him was unacceptable. Oh how healthy. 🙄😂 Viktor be the kind of toxic ex to threaten divorce 500 times over, then burn the world when you actually leave him. Jayce is no better cause he's the kind of guy to keep going back to his toxic Ex.

Yes, Mel is manipulative. That's what I love about her. How are you guys failing to give this woman the praise of being an outsider in Piltover, but running their entire council. 💀 Girl raises her hand once and the whole government starts spinning. She was the best sugar mummy Jayce and Viktor could ever ask for. She kept the whole city running. Literally the entire of Piltover dancing on her palm. And yes she manipulated Jayce but let's not forget she thought that was a love language. 💀 You wanna be mad at someone, be mad at Ambessa for raising her that way.

I also don't think it's fair to blame her for the Undercity situation, she's not native. Monkey see, monkey do, and not a single one of those Council members actually cared about the situation down there, it was deplorable. 💀 Jayce did way more in his two weeks as Councillor than any of those drug pushing, money laundering, Piltovian heads of government.

And that just covers MelJayVik, we don't even need to get fully into TimeBomb, cause we know what's wrong there. 💀 Surely we have not forgotten the many teammates Jinx has killed, but making sure to never kill Ekko cause that's her man. Ekko has a lot to unpack, like how his consistent and unwavering love for Jinx is an indication of a lot of doors he might not be ready to open. I know they dynamics go crazy and I love to see it.

Ambessa and Sevika are a crack ship but I'm sure we all know bedroom dynamics go crazy with Mrs. Warlord and Miss Liberation. I love it when characters clash in a toxic heap. It's insane and should be explored.

Quit saintifying my toxic ships with your woke morality debates. If you want everyone to be sunshine and rainbows then you should be watching literally anything else. 💀 "It's not healthy." GOOD, I like it that way. 💀 Angst, spice and trauma are the recipe for a plethora of explorative fanfiction. Any of their dynamics can be taken in any toxic direction and I want that EXPLORED.

[wonderlandwalker]

Oh Captain, My Captain | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: James discovers a new kink

Content Warnings/Tags: smut, like a lot, mdni, established relationship,no use of y/n, basically porn with fluff, one (1) swear word, only slightly proofread

Word Count: 2.5k

A/n: Filth that I've had in my head for ages and finally spend all night writing because I'm dopamine deficient

James never really understood good luck charms, believing dedication and hard work were what always made the difference, but from the moment you had jokingly brought up being his, he’d been convinced. Because he loved having you at his games, even before you had started going out, at one point in the game or another he’d always try and spot you in the crowd, looking over the stands in search of you. And of course you were here today as well, but the moment he saw you in the crowds his heart dropped. He had to blink to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, because there you were, wearing his sweater. It was such a trivial thing, yet couldn’t stop himself from staring, staring at you and the way you were cheering the team on. The house colours had always suited you so well, you’d even borrowed his sweaters before, but this, this was nothing like that. This was his sweater, the one he had tossed down on his bed earlier, opting for his jersey instead, the one with his name embroidered on it, the one with the captain patch sewed on, and he was struggling to take his eyes off you. The only reason he ended up doing so was because Marlene quite literally knocked him back into reality as they crossed paths. It caused her to lose the quaffle she had been holding, further resulting in her telling him to ‘fucking focus’. 

Right; focus. This was the championship game against Hufflepuff, he had to focus. He was the team captain after all, he shouldn't be slacking about, but his mind simply kept wondering back to that title currently adorning you as well. It was like it had awoken something in him that was buried so deep down he hadn’t even known it was there himself, something so feral he hadn’t even known to look for it, but there it was, and it was only by some sort of miracle he hadn’t enswd screwing up the entire match, because they had, in fact, won. That it was a close call chalked he up as a problem for later. 

After a win he’d usually be ecstatic, running to meet up with his teammates as he’d land, spurring them on with cheer. But right now as his feet finally met the ground he simply went past everyone as he told them he had to go. He decided to take a beeline for the changing rooms, concluding he was in dire need of a long, cold shower. But as he felt the stream hit him, all he could think about was dragging you under the water with him, about letting his hands roam free against your every curve. And the more he thought about it, the more he could almost feel it, feel how your clothes would stick skin tight to you, feel your red and gold painted nails scratch paths down his back.  He loved the marks you’d leave, would treasure them like his own private art collection. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much more time to think about it as Frank knocked on the stall door, letting him know they were all headed back to the common room to celebrate. 

So he got dressed to head back to the castle as well. Maybe a walk with fresh air would clear his head. It wasn’t the thought itself that bothered him, he was used to those. What bothered him was their origin, because that was something new entirely. James was used to being so sickingly sweet in even the smallest of things that your friends once banned him from touching you for an entire weekend as punishment, which had been all too entertaining to everyone but him. He liked to gently coax you back onto his bed and make sure there wasn't a centimetre of your skin he hadn't touched. He’d pay close attention to every small change in your breathing, and he’d let his ears feast on the moans he’d etch from you. This wasn’t what was normally stuck on his mind after a big game, but somehow he couldn't think about winning margins if his life depended on it. The only thing stuck on his mind was you.

There you stood, in the middle of the room as he entered. You were surrounded by your friends, hands raised high with shot glasses in praise of tonight's victory. He wondered what your lips would taste like from the cherry vodka you’d like to drink, the liquor usually intoxicating both of you. And usually, he wouldn’t hesitate to go and find out, but something told him that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and this was not exactly the right place for that. So he silently slipped into the room, finding a table of drinks and getting himself a glass of fire whiskey that he drank as fast as he poured it.

As he went to stand next to you, placing his hand down onto your hip, you spun around to greet him, reaching up and kissing him before he could get himself to stop you. And when you pulled back he found himself chasing the feeling, chasing that something that tasted like more.

From that moment on, all he could do was stand there, zoned out, as he tried to listen to what everyone was saying, but all it was to him was background noise. He wondered if it would be considered rude to simply leave without saying a word, he wondered how much longer he had to stay for it not to be. But he suddenly got snapped back when heard a burst of cheers coming from his left side. And as he looked over he could see why, you were standing on one of the coffee tables with Marlene, dancing on top of it with her. As he tuned back in he heard Lay All Your Love on Me playing, he knew you could never resist this song.

Your hips were going along with it in a way he thought should be considered sinful, and he was surely going to hell for the way he was staring. Marlene was nothing short of an accomplice to the crime, she was holding you so close it almost made him jealous. No, not almost, it definitely made him jealous. He had seen you two dance to this song countless times, so why did it bother him now as Marlene dropped onto her knees in front of you when the chorus hit.

As soon as it ended he coaxed you down next to him, catching you in his arms as you stumbled down. But before you could make another move he was prompting you towards the stairs, determined as he walked up to the dorm rooms with you. You weren’t used to seeing him so quiet, to how pensive he was acting. The silence in between you was so thick you didn’t dare break it either, not until you reached the bedroom and he closed the door behind you.

“James what’s going on-”

“You’re wearing my sweater.” It was more of a statement than anything else, and it made you unsure of how to respond, but not wanting to leave him unanswered with how solemnly he was staring at your face you did so anyway, even if it was just rambling.

“I thought it’d bring extra luck, I found it on your bed, I should've asked, I can go change-” 

But right then he stopped your spiralling immediately, pushing you further against the door, trapping you against it. “Don’t you dare take it off.” You could see the fire behind his eyes now, feel the dominance that was seeping off him tonight, and that’s when all of a sudden, for you, it made sense. It was new, sure, but it was obvious, and it made you wonder how far you could push him until he’d break. 

“So make me stop.” It was such a childish sentiment, but it did the trick. And you weren’t entirely sure how you had expected him to react, but James didn’t waste another second before he connected his lips with yours, clashing against you as he did.

It wasn’t the usual tender-hearted James you were used to, it was a fever dream rush of movement, and from the moment he got what he had been craving after all night, he was insatiable about it. He started to trail kisses down your neck, practically biting a path down to your chest, he let his hands palm over the back of your legs, he made his way over every part of you he could find quick access to. And so you weren’t surprised when he hoisted you up his body so he could walk down to the bed, throwing you down on it the moment he reached it.

He created only a small window of time when stripping himself of his shirt, grabbing your ankles to pull you closer, finding your lips once again. He didn’t let any further time pass before trailing his hands down over thighs, starting to feel how slick they already were as he got higher up.

“You like this don’t you darling, you like seeing me riled up?” His face was harsher than usual, clenched together from the self-control he had to keep all night, and it was certainly doing things to you. It didn’t take much longer for his fingers to find your clit, already rubbing circles onto it as he used his other hand to rid himself of his trousers. His gaze was still focused on you, watching you with more determination than you had ever seen in him before. You were looking back at him with hooded eyes, gasping as he mercilessly continued, your head falling back as you saw him free his cock. He was as desperate as you were, but he was clearly better at masking it, and you were about to plead as he gave you exactly what you wanted. He lined himself up, pushing all the way inside in one, fast, thrust.

There wasn’t a build-up, there wasn’t any hesitation as he simply pulled all the way out, before fully pumping himself back in, setting an agonisingly fast pace that you slowly started to get addicted to. And he keeps giving it to you for a bit longer before he abruptly stops. It makes you open your eyes again to see him, seeing the clogs turn through his eyes as he drops your legs from his grasp before bringing an arm under your back and flipping you so he’s lying on the bed. 

You already know exactly what he wants, anchoring yourself with a hand on his chest as you sit up, straddling him, sinking down onto him. This time you try and force your eyes to stay open, determined to see how his eyes roll to the back of his head, even though the pleasure is overwhelming you as well. As you start to move back and forth you can feel him even deeper than before, but you can’t quite set the same pace as him, and once his eyes find their focal point on you, when he roams his eyes over your figure and over the sweater you still had on, you can see his gaze turn dark again. His hands move from where they had settled just above your ass to find a firm grip on your hips instead, forcefully moving them to go faster, finding that same brutal pace from earlier. You can feel his muscles flexing at the action and the combination of it all is starting to turn your body numb from the pleasure, luckily for you, he’s learned to read you like a book by now.

“Let go for me, honey.” It’s a whisper, and you’re surprised at how clear you can hear it with how hazy everything else is right now. And as he feels you cumming a feral groan finds its way up from deep within his chest, and you didn’t know he could, but he starts to move even faster. The only thing your mind is capable of at the moment is to mumble pleas and moan his name like a mantra, you’re not sure how much longer you can take it but you don’t dare asking him to stop either. You can feel how close he is, how desperate he has become for the release. The muscles in his abdomen tense up, his jaw clenched impossibly tight and you recognize his rushed breathing pattern. He doesn’t make you wait much longer before you can feel him spilling into you, unending profanities and prayers of your name leaving him as he does.

And for the first time since you entered the room there is a moment of simply nothing, you relax to find a comfortable position laying down on him, tangling your limbs together on pure instinct. You could swear you zoned out for a minute or two, but now you can feel him trace patterns down your arm, a habit of his that could lull you right to sleep, but you know the night is still young. 

“You wanna head back down to celebrate your championship?” You’re sure your friends are in the middle of some muggle drinking game you’d easily be able to join, but James declines the offer.

“Sweetheart, this right here is reward enough for me” You know he means it too, that he’s made it back to his golden hearted self, but per usual, you can't help but taunt him

“Whatever you say, Captain.” The sarcasm in your statement is thick, but as you say it you can see his pupils expanding, his breathing becoming a bit more shallow as you feel him become hard again. He flips you over once more, caging you between his arms as he looks straight into your eyes.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish darling” You’re pulling at his strings again, and you hadn’t done so on purpose, but you’re enjoying it immensely. 

“Oh I have every intent on finishing Jamie." At your words James ducks down into another heated kiss, moving one of his hands to finally take his sweater off you, a mischievous grin on his face as he trails his way down your body.

“As your Captain, I suppose I should help you with that.” You’d make another remark back if you weren’t already so lost in pleasure again. He’d made his way down to your cunt, eating you out with a fervor that made you moan out for him as your fingers found their way into his hair. The night was definitely still young, and as the party downstairs continued to drown out the noises you were making, you weren’t planning on making it end anytime soon either.

[paddockletters]

back to us | franco colapinto

summary: you’re franco’s ex, but the two of you remain surprisingly close friends but when fans spot you together at events and in each other’s stories, they start speculating whether you’re back together. author's note: prob i'm gonna do a 'tag list', do you want to be on it?

oneofyourfriends

liked by francocolapinto and 9,872 others

tagged: francocolapinto, yourusername and 6 others

oneofyourfriends: Time flies when you're with the best people

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user11: WAIT. I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS. are they back together or what? I NEED ANSWERS💀

user2: is this a subtle confirmation or are they just really good at making us question everything?

user3: Franco and Y/N, I swear if you two are playing with our hearts again, im done

user4: this is the most ‘we’re in love but won’t admit it’ pic I’ve ever seen. can someone just give us the tea already?

user5: WAIT WAIT WAIT. I was literally just talking about them a week ago. are we getting an announcement soon?? 👀

user6: this picture screams ‘we’re secretly in love but just messing with y’all for fun’ energy 😏

user7: hold on, i know I'm not the only one who’s just realized they might be together again after all this time 😳

user8: they've been lowkey giving us these vibes for a while now, I knew it! 🫣💘

user9: not them teasing us, just admit it already!

f1gossipdaily

liked by francolapinto, yourusername and 8,852 others

f1gossipdaily: 🚨 SPOTTED: Franco Colapinto leaving a fancy dinner spot in Buenos Aires with a mistery girl... maybe his long-term ex, Y/N 👀 Thoughts? Drop them below!

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user1: FRANCO AND Y/N??? I’M SCREAMING. Are we back in 2020 or what?! 😭🔥

user2: that’s not just a friendly dinner. look at the way he’s smiling at her. IT’S LOVE 🥹💘

user3: plot twist: they never stopped dating and have been clowning us this whole time 🤡

user4: Franco and Y/N liked this post… yeah, they’re up to SOMETHING 👀

user5: imagine being THIS iconic that the entire internet loses it over a dinner. Y/N supremacy

user6: not me already planning their wedding even though we don’t know what’s going on

user7: i bet they were just talking about how to break the internet again

user8: Franco and Y/N liked this post?? THEY KNOW WHAT THEY’RE DOING

user9: they’re feeding us crumbs, and we’re still feral

user10: wait… what if they were on a DATE?! someone investigate asap!!!!

user11: they are like ‘we’re definitely back together but in denial’ 😭

yourusername

liked by francolapinto and 73,471 others

yourusername: A little bit of everything lately

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user1: I swear, the dog looks like a puppy version of the one Franco had weeks ago... 👀

user2: WAIT. Is that the same dog that was in Franco’s photo a few weeks ago???

user4: the dog’s adorable, but the wine glasses? 🧐

friend1: that puppy is seriously the cutest thing ever, i’m obsessed! 💗💗

user5: that dog is CUTEEE but I’m too distracted by the wine glasses. ARE YOU AND FRANCO BACK TOGETHER OR WHAT?! 😭

user6: i'm just here for the dog. I need details about the second glass though 🤔

francolapinto: 🐶💓

❤️ liked by the author

user8: Franco really out here in the comments…

user9: WAIT A MINUTE, are you back together???

user10: just stop playing with us, i'm begging you! 😭

user11:I’m sorry, but the fact that Franco commented has me DEAD 💀 I need answers!!

user12: just admit it, Y/N. The other glass is for Francooooo

lando: when’s the dog playdate? Asking for a friend🐾👀

❤️ liked by the author user13: ariana, what are you doing here??? user14: that friends is franco, right? RIGHT??? user15: wait, did Lando just say THAT?? 👀 user16: lando, stop it. are you throwing some shade at Franco or just being a good friend? user17: this is a mess. now I’m even more confused. Y/N and Lando? Y/N and Franco? Someone help me out 😭

[vaguely-concerned]

the things it adds to both of the characters involved that lucanis used to have a thing for viago could not have been more tailor made to be for me. literally the ideal thing to come out of this game for me personally and specifically and spiritually. I mean I'm teia x viago trash until the day I die and nothing will ever change this (and with the best will in the world and even the power of lucanis' big beautiful soulful eyes, that would never have worked out even if viago DID somehow understand he was being propositioned. which I'm not convinced he did. the mutual 'so. snakes are pretty cool huh. and. knives. also' awkward energy without someone of teia's charisma and people skills involved to mitigate it... it would have been dire), but on so many levels I find it so incredibly charming for what it says about them both that the (one-sided) attraction was there once.

what's more, it means the man about whom this legendary paragraph was written:

Viago was not a typical Antivan. He liked facts—checklists, numbers, precise measurements. Heart palpitations, clammy hands, tight pants—Viago did not like these things. In fact, he would go so far as to say he hated them. Mild curiosity was his favorite mood.

has got some of the hottest coolest deadliest people in thedas down so catastrophically bad it's got them acting unwise. teia had to wait a UST-drenched decade for him to be ready to take his fucking gloves off for her. and she did!! the tetchiest most neurotic least approachable little vetinari knockoff of a man you ever saw has game for days and days and lives rent free in heads for years. in eight little talons viago consistently feels so inadequate up against dante and it's like. man I'm shaking you by the lapels you have what he'll never have. the ability to bewitch body and soul with your terrible personality and long thin legs. do not waste the gift you've been given go get her she's waiting!!!

(lucanis is really good at reading people, so I wonder if maybe he saw through all of that to some of the steadiness and incredible capacity for warmth and tenderness in specific interpersonal relationships you see viago have with teia when he finally opens up enough, and maybe that was part of it. either way it's so perfect that both he and teia have regarded viago with this affectionate intrigued amusement. lucanis still seems pretty fond of him in a 'viago continues to be exactly himself no matter what else happens or goes wrong. comforting universal constant' sort of way, he brings him up quite a lot in party banter.)

you've seen lucanis' game in this day and age, arguably or at least hopefully older and wiser -- can you imagine how catastrophically bad it must have been back when he presumably handed viago, most paranoid man in thedas all years running, a knife like this expressed everything it needed to. people give him so much shit for the cake moment being his big romantic lock-in, but considering where we started that is GROWTH and I for one am so proud of him fhsdkjaf.

also I wonder at what point vis-a-vis that whole Situation teia and viago met for the first time, leading us to ask... just how much was it a matter of lucanis simply being ignored out of a lack of interest on viago's part (tbf, not entirely unlikely). how much was it lucanis truly not managing to make himself understood. (all but certainly. literally how would one understand that. I think it says some sweet things about rook and lucanis' dynamic that they -- somehow -- DO pick up what he's putting down in a similar scenario presumably b/c they know him pretty well by then haha.) how much was it viago interpreting the romantic move as a death threat from one of the most dangerous people alive and freaking out. (1000% and indubitably.) and how much was it andarateia steal-your-girl cantori turning up and thus setting off whatever spectacular, volatile, awesome-in-the-original-sense chemical reaction between the substances of her and viago's souls that goes on to this day and makes everything else kind of a side note at best. a gentle mix of several of these things, perhaps. ...god I love all these characters so much

[workingwhileidream]

Okay Burrow's End had me thinking some thoughts... So here are my favorite Dimension 20 moments that rotate like a rotisserie chicken in my brain (in no particular order other than the order I thought if them).

- Riz goes into the butthole of the Corn Ooze Monster (Fantasy High). The first absolutely insane shenanigans move anyone makes on D20, setting the tone the show will have forever.

- Raphaniel kills Queen Pamelia (Ravening War). I think I saw Brennan's soul leave his body briefly when he got that How Do You Want To Do This from Matt. Time was an absolute flat circle that day.

- Hank convinces Brennan to let him role savvy instead of sneak (Mentopolis). Hank is one of the most famous content creators, having him on the show was phenomenal to begin with. Then right out of the gate, he pulls this move in his first episode. And it just works. Hilarious, instantly iconic.

- Jet Dies (A Crown of Candy). When Lapin dies, it is shocking but I wasn't attached to him as a character. Lapin was a bit antagonistic and his death happens early in the season. On the other hand, Jet is instantly likeable. Emily and Siobhan are amazing as siblings, their performances this campaign are some of my favorites. I have siblings and I am very close to them, so this hit me like a ton of bricks.

- The entire epilogue of Burrow's End. "Are you pitching and Air Bud ending?" is one of the instant hall of fame quotes from this show. I started crying I was laughing so hard.

- Ylfa's bottleneck and the TPK (Neverafter). There are so many close calls for total party kills in Dimension 20 history, but this is where it finally happens and it's only 3 episodes in. I was on edge, expecting another TPK at any turn, for the rest of the campaign.

- 3 nat one initiative rolls for the battle that literally opens the season (A Starstruck Odyssey). The beginning of a new season is always full of excitement. This season was extra special, having everyone back in the dome after the pandemic and the season being based off Brennan's Mom's comics. The zoom energy is still in the air and I still think about this season opener a lot.

- Mother Timothy Goose breaks Snow White's concentration with a cantrip (Neverafter). Only Ally Beardsley could and we all damn well know it. Still didn't stop me from being so far in disbelief that all I could do is laugh.

- Hob's "You will never know another lonely day" speech to Rue (A Court of Fey and Flowers). I will still cry about this if I think about it for too long. Rue and Hob's romance is the heart of this season to me. I won't be over it ever.

- Gertrude convinces Nyruth to give the Questing Queens very powerful boons after the Queens tried to rob them only a few hours earlier (Dungeons and Drag Queens). The fact that this season exists drives a level of serotonin into my brain that is unimaginable. This is the definition of a big swing and when Bob rolls well, Brennan has no other choice than to honor it. This is one of the moments I have made a meme of. I cannot wait for season 2.

- Wuuvy shows up to the duel and she did not come to play (A Court of Fey and Flowers). Aabria has talked about how Wuuvy is one of her favorite NPCs and I feel the same. Wuuvy and Rue's relationship has such a great arc and this moment is so pivotal.

- Fabian's no good very bad day (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). An iconic moment in D20 history that was truly wild to watch live. For everything to go so fantastically bad for Fabian and Lou was unprecedented. There is a reason why people still talk about this moment to this day.

- Amathar survives being pushed off the castle (A Crown of Candy). Brennan tried to kill Lou so many times in this campaign. I really thought Brennan had gotten him with this one, my stomach sunk. But Lou pulls it out and Amathar lives once again.

- Pib plays "Smoke on the Water" (Neverafter). "I stepped out to play 'Smoke on the Water' " is also a hall of fame quote to me. This list could be all Pib moments if I'm being honest, he's my favorite Zac character. And the fact that Zac doesn't roll well makes this moment funnier to me.

- Buddy Bear gets planted with the All Blossom (Dungeons and Drag Queens). Jujubee and Brennan owe me a therapy session for this one. I sobbed. My cat is my baby and I will be ruined the day she leaves me, so I get it. I really do.

- "Eat your dice, Brennan" (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). A great bit made physically possible by Siobhan. I hope Siobhan gives him gummy dice or something like that so that Brennan can continue to eat his dice for Junior Year.

- Orange Top Hat Fairy (Neverafter). It's a horror season and the cast is doing bits about how hot a mini is the entire finale and the Adventuring Party that followed. I felt the stress and off the walls energy through the screen. The Smooth Criminal pin was the first piece of Dimension 20 merch I bought.

- Viola's epic takedown of Phoebe (Burrow's End). Watching Rashawn absolutely crush it her first time in the dome was amazing. I loved Viola from the jump, her arc was so satisfying and fun to watch. Also the idea of a tiny stoat kicking a gun just the right way to get it to fire is hilarious. No notes other than please have Rashawn come back on every season she possibly can.

- Evan Kelmp warns the Rosemont student not to duel him (Misfits and Magic). Brennan's deadpan warning matched with the reactions of the other players and Aabria really make this scene. An underrated Brennan moment for sure.

- Stacey Fakename turns out to be real (Mentopolis). This was such a good reoccurring bit, so to have Stacey be real at the end of the story was too funny. In a season of bits, tropes, and puns - this one has the most payoff to me and is definitely my favorite.