#i didn't even like that scene because i think the time would have been better spent on explaining his motivations
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An Accidental Marriage
Spencer Reid x fem! reader fluffy fluffy fluffy
Spencer Reid never thought he'd start his morning by nearly choking to death on his beloved coffee. But, then again, he also never thought he’d get accidentally married and find out about it at the same time the rest of the 6th floor at the FBI.
Yet here he was—standing in the BAU’s bullpen, coughing and sputtering as the one person he never expected to see in Virginia stormed into the room and screamed:
"DID YOU KNOW THE MARRIAGE WAS REAL?!"
Everyone seemed to freeze. The usual hum of the FBI’s elite profiling unit went completely silent as every single agent turned to stare at the scene unfolding before them.
Emily Prentiss slowly set down her mug. Luke Alvez raised an eyebrow. Tara Lewis and JJ exchanged glances. Penelope Garcia, the BAU’s self appointed gossip queen, visibly perked up like a cat spotting a canary. And Spencer? Spencer was still choking.
“Marriage?” JJ echoed, tilting her head. “Spence, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
His childhood best friend—you—stood in front of him, arms crossed, expression half exasperated, half completely bewildered. What were you doing in Virginia? You wen't supposed to finalize your move until next month. Did he get the months wrong? He never got the months wrong but then again thinking about you always did something to his brain, he thought.
“I went to get my license updated, Spencer. My license. And do you know what I found out?” You didn’t wait for him to answer, waving an official-looking paper in front of his face. “I have been legally married for ten years and nobody thought to tell me?”
Spencer finally managed to recover, rubbing his throat before he pushed his glasses up his nose, his mind whirring. “Wait, wait, wait—how is that even possible?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Crash maybe it’s because we signed a legal document at that stupid fair years ago thinking it was a joke when it was actually real!” The moment you called him Crash, the way you had since you were kids (a nickname born from his clumsy nature and his inability to stay upright for long), something clicked in his brain.
The fair. The marriage booth.
The backup plan.
“Oh my God,” Spencer whispered.
“Oh my God is right!” you cried
Penelope practically vibrated in her seat. “Wait, wait, wait—did I just hear correctly? My favorite boy genius has been secretly married for ten years and didn’t know it?! This is better than any rom-com I’ve ever seen!”
Luke smirked. “And you never thought to check?”
“Why would I check? It's Spencer!” Penelope cried
Rossi, who had been listening with an amused expression, leaned back in his chair. “Alright, kids, humor the old man. Start from the beginning.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and plopped into the nearest chair. Spencer sat beside you, running a hand through his hair.
“Okay,” you started. “Spencer and I grew up together in Vegas. We were best friends. Like, inseparable. Hi, by the way names Y/N and I probably know a lot about all of you.” Spencer nodded. “We met when we were six years old. Statistically, most childhood friendships don’t last into adulthood, but we were an anomaly.”
Emily waved a hand. “Cute, but get to the part where you got married.”
You rolled your eyes, not liking that people didn't like Spencers facts. “When we were kids, we made a pact. If we weren’t married by forty, we’d marry each other. You know, as a backup plan.”
JJ let out a small aw before covering her mouth.
“Then,” Spencer continued, “when we were twenty, we ran into each other while I was visiting my mom in Vegas, Y/N was supposed to be visiting her sister in California but missed her plane. There was a fair at the local community college, and we thought it would be fun to relive our childhood for a day and spend the whole day together like we used to.”
You groaned, rubbing your temples. “And that’s when we saw it. The stupid marriage booth.”
Luke frowned. “Marriage booth?”
Spencer nodded. “It was part of the fair attractions. A fake wedding setup where couples could take pictures, sign a certificate, and get one of those novelty ‘marriage’ papers. We thought it was funny—like a way to get a head start on our backup plan.”
“Turns out,” you grumbled, “since we were in Vegas, it wasn’t fake at all.” The room went silent. And then Penelope excitedly screamed.
“Oh. My. God.” Penelope clutched her chest like she was about to faint. “That is the most romantic accidental love story I have ever heard.”
Spencer shook his head. “It’s not romantic! It was a mistake.”
“I don’t know, kid,” Rossi said with a smirk. “Sounds a lot like fate to me.”
You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “That’s exactly what the lady at the DMV said when she showed me the proof!”
Tara leaned forward. “And now what?”
You glanced at Spencer. “I guess we get it annulled.”
For some reason, the thought sent an odd pang through Spencer’s chest. Annulled? Why did the thought of getting it annulled make him want to through up?
Emily leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Or—” she drawled, eyes gleaming mischievously, “you could just stay married.”
“What?” you and Spencer said in unison.
Tara shrugged. “You were childhood best friends. You made a pact to marry each other if you didn’t find anyone else. Maybe this was fate stepping in early.”
“Fate,” Spencer repeated blankly.
“Oh, you cannot annul this,” Penelope gasped. “This is the most romantic accidental love story ever. Think of the story you’ll have for your grandchildren!”
Just as you were beginning to protest, agent Grant Anderson strolled into the bullpen, carrying a stack of case files. His gaze landed on you, and a charming smile spread across his face.
“Well, hello,” he said smoothly. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
You blinked at him. “Uh, no, I guess we haven’t.”
Anderson’s smile widened. “You must be new. Are you visiting, or is this a permanent thing?”
Spencer, who had been silent for a moment too long, suddenly stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over. His jaw clenched, his normally gentle brown eyes darkening with something sharp and territorial. His hand curled around your wrist, firm but not forceful, and then—“My wife,” he said.
And before you could react, before you could process what he just said Spencer Reid—your childhood best friend, the genius who was accidentally your husband, the man you have been in love with since you knew what love was—grabbed your face and kissed you.
The bullpen erupted in cheers. Penelope squealed. JJ gasped. Emily shouted, “Go Reid!” Rossi laughed like this was the best thing he'd seen in years.
Anderson took a step back, holding up his hands. “Well. That answers that question.” When Spencer finally pulled away, you could only stare at him, breathless, heart pounding, lips tingling. “What—what was that?!” you managed. Spencer swallowed, adjusting his tie. “A leap,” he said simply. You blinked. And then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him back. Tagging some friends because for some reason I can't find my taglist
@samuel-de-champagne-problems @boldlyvoid @milla984 @reidsaurora @reiding-and-writing
#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#dr. spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#dr reid#doctor spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic
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Chloe had knocked over Marinette's tray at lunch earlier that day. It wasn't anything new, just like the way Chloe had started making oinking noises to Sabrina when Marinette had bent down to clean it up. Or like the way Chloe had said that Marinette didn't really need the extra calories, so she was actually helping her after all.
Lucky Lucky Ladybug kept replaying the scene in her mind, over and over, thinking about just how stupid Chloe would've felt if Tikki had let Marinette transform and give Chloe a talking-to as Ladybug. She had woven the string of her yo-yo between her fingers into a cat's cradle, and every time her hands would stretch apart, the yo-yo would spin on its track. Then she'd bring her hands back together to catch the yo-yo mid spin, the metal body clacking against the bones in her hands. Spin, then clack. Spin, clack. Spin, clack.
Chat Noir had been talking for the past few minutes, but Ladybug never bothered to listen to him anymore. He had probably just made one of his awful puns again, based on the way he started stammering.
"Oh, uh, s-so the joke is that it's a play on the word—" "Have you ever thought that maybe, if you have to explain all of your jokes, you're not funny?" Chat Noir got quiet, his shoulders falling. Ladybug kept her eyes on her yo-yo. "I'm sorry, milady," Chat Noir apologized. "I just assumed you didn't understand the punchline." "Maybe you should come up with jokes other people understand then. That way people might actually laugh at them." Spin, clack. Spin, clack. Ladybug kept imagining Chloe's face, with her pale blue eyeshadow and her cakey makeup.
Chat Noir started to twist his fingers together, the claws on his thumbs digging into his gloved hands. It wasn't anything new—people having little patience with him, that is. His father had gotten him used to it by now. Chat Noir knew that the right thing to do in such situations was just to acquiesce, and that when you acquiesced people liked you more for it. "I noticed you and Rena were on television the other day. How did that go?" Ladybug hunched over herself, scoffing as she wound the string of her yo-yo tighter around her fingers. She had started bring Renared to press conferences and fan meetups because she could trust that Alya wouldn't act like an idiot or say stupid things. Alya was a good friend like that, willing to pick up Chat Noir's slack. Plus, doing things with Rena instead meant that Marinette and Alya could hang out for the rest of the day, and Marinette would actually enjoy herself. Doing anything of that with Chat Noir... would mean she'd be hanging out with Chat Noir. Bad pickup lines and worse jokes included.
"It was fine," Ladybug huffed, rolling her eyes. "Why do you even care?" "Oh- well, uhm. You just used to take me, and I was wondering if you had a reason that you... well... stopped."
One time during an interview, Chat Noir had derailed the entire conversation talking about the intricacies of whether or not their group of holders counted more as a religious or a political organization, entirely unaware that nobody could even begin to care about such a thing. Spin, clack. Spin, clack.
Ladybug thought about the way Chloe's face had scrunched up when she oinked at Marinette. Ladybug thought of Chat Noir's stupid awkward stammer. Ladybug thought about having to admit to her mother that her grades were getting worse.
Ladybug trapped the yo-yo in her hands for the last time, almost trying to crush it.
"It's because she's better at it than you, and I like you better when I don't have to hear you talk. Does that make you happy?!"
Chat Noir almost answered—No, actually, knowing that people didn't like hearing him talk didn't make him happy at all. But he'd learned by now that when Ladybug asked him questions like that, she wasn't actually asking and a response would only make her angrier.
"I'm sorry. I'll talk less, milady."
"I told you to stop calling me that."
"...I'm sorry."
Maybe Chloe could pick on Chat Noir for a change. He deserved it more than she did.
#*slams my pencil down* NOW THATS HOW YOU FUCKING DO IT BABY#writing blurbs#ladynoir#miraculous ladybug#marinette dupain cheng#chat noir#adrien agreste#ladybug and chat noir#ml ladybug#tales of ladybug and cat noir#chloe bourgeois#rotten love square#mlb adrien#miraculous adrien#mlb marinette#miraculous marinette#alya cesaire#mlb alya#miraculous alya#rena rouge#miraculous fandom#thewarmembraceofshadow#lucky lucky ladybug
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Orlok’s Backstory Gives Meaning to “Nosferatu” (2024) Ending
And we have Bill Skarsgård to thank for that, because this top secret backstory influenced his entire performance:
“And while Bill [Skarsgård] was also doing what I was asking for, he brought more to the table too, particularly with binding moments where Orlok was vulnerable. I was so sick of the tropes of the sad vampire that I didn't want to go there. But Bill knew that it was important to still have the vulnerability in some places. And I think it makes the performance.” (x)
“I sent [Bill] a backstory of Orlok that I wrote. So we came to it together to achieve what I was after. Because I’m so tired of the heroic and sad vampires, I was just like, ‘He’s a demon. He’s so evil.’ Bill was like, ‘Yeah, but there needs to be some times where he has some kind of vulnerability.’ It’s very subtle, and it’s not there often, but it is enough. I think the ending of the movie is much more effective than it would have been without Bill’s acute sensitivity to that – while still delivering on this big, scary, masculine vampire”.
Robert Eggers Reveals How Bill Skarsgård Influenced the Ending of 'Nosferatu'
What do we have of “human” Orlok at the ending? This entire sequence, as the dawn starts to remove the decay from his face, and he starts to appear more human-like (indicating the Nosferatu curse is being lifted from him; the blood pouring out of him has another meaning and is rooted in Balkan folklore).
And this is connected to Ellen, because not only she’s the only other character in this scene (with lilacs on her hair), but she’s also the only “humanizing” trait on his strigoi self; as this curse removed all of his humanity.
And these “binding” moments with her are few, but enough to give meaning to all of this, as both Robert Eggers and Bill Skarsgård have said and we know from the film itself, and they are also connected to Orlok’s backstory (“enchantress”; Yet even now we are fated”; Your passion is bound to me”; “Yet I cannot be sated without you. Remember how once we were? A moment. Remember?” and “you are mine” and they kiss).
This meaning is most likely connected to their union of souls (separated by death; united by death). Has she “remembered” at last? Or did she already know?
And now I have to laugh. Because Robert Eggers is out here saying he’s tired of the “sad vampire” trope when he delivered the most sad, tragic and romantic vampire story of them all, only perceived by the knowledgeable in folklore themes.
“What kind of trauma, pain and violence is so great that even death cannot stop it?" Robert Eggers asks on his own essay to “The Guardian”, where he talks about his “Nosferatu” and vampire folklore.
And he created a strigoi lover story about a tormented spirit who wants to merge souls with the reincarnation of his wife/lover because the trauma of their separation by death created a pain so deep and so powerful it unleashed an atual monster to bring plague and death upon civilization, in their yearning of being united by death, again.
Come on, Mr. Eggers not all of us are fooled by marketing techniques, nor are the masses. But I have to admire the commitment of this man to his own artistic vision. While the studio wanted to capitalize on the “hot couple”; he’s not giving any fucks on his own interviews, and even told the studio executives to fuck off in his own film. They wanted a last “look of love” between Ellen and Thomas probably because they felt his original ending was too “depressive”? This man really made it be a post-mortem contradiction because Ellen was already gone at that point. Legendary. We would have better art if all creators were this committed.
#Nosferatu 2024#Robert Eggers#bill skarsgård#nosferatu 2024 interview#nosfertaru 2004 ending#count Orlok 2024#count Orlok 2024 backstory#Ellen Hutter 2024
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I'm gonna be frank, I don't think I'll be understood here on my stance (especially since I'm just not good with my words) and I know some of you isn't going to agree with me. That's fine. I'm okay with different perspectives.
I'll be honest, 431 isn't the most well written epilogue and yes, I don't particularly like it.
But it wasn't the only thing that made me irritated. It was just the tipping point of "You know what, I kind of had it".
The writing definitely didn't do Midoriya justice, neither for Uraraka and Toga. But let's not act like Bakugou had great writing there either because for me, him asking Midoriya to work at his agency didn't feel like Bakugou to me.
Over the story, we see that Bakugou had grown to be more open towards Midoriya. So why did he go about skirting around to ask Midoriya about the agency, let alone ask him at all? And in front of Kirishima who had to act like a translator? So you're telling me Katsuki Bakugou who has freely been straight forward, after learning to be because sometimes Midoriya does need people to be blunt, before couldn't have a conversation with Midoriya about working at the agency?
You're telling me Bakugou couldn't have a discussion with Midoriya like "hey, can I talk to you" and they go from there to having coming to an agreement of sorts?
All that development of their relationship getting better that they could confine in each other that Bakugou and Midoriya couldn't have a scene where they sat down at a restaurant or somewhere, just them and discuss the agency?
No, that had to be sprung up and hinted at Midoriya in a car with Kirishima present? Before they met with their friends?
Maybe it's just me, totally just me, but I don't think Bakugou would have went about it like that. I would have figured that Bakugou would have asked Midoriya to meet with him and together they would have a proper discussion. Like by then, those two would have learned better communication.
Even before Kirishima had to say anything, Midoriya voiced that he enjoyed being a teacher and still thankful that he has a hero suit thanks to everyone.
Actual Bakugou, at least not my Bakugou. wouldn't be framed totally butthurt by Midoriya wanting to still be a teacher. Not when they know can still be heroes and rivals and whatever else together. Bakugou wouldn't let Midoriya being a teacher and not working at his agency keep him awake at night like "can't believe he rejected me, can't believe he rejected me".
Heck, I doubt he would have even brought up an agency in the first place because what mattered to him was that he and Midoriya were heroes together.
If their teachers were able to do it, them why Bakugou would even question Midoriya about still teaching?
So Midoriya isn't the only one at fault here and he's not the only character done dirty. Bakugou didn't have perfect writing here either to me.
But I feel like some people are stuck on "Midoriya betrayed Bakugou" that maybe that's the part not being caught on. That frustration towards Midoriya is blocking from seeing Bakugou was not written well in this chapter.
I wouldn't even say either are at fault here, the chapter just wasn't that good. We had some highlights but it just wasn't the best epilogue and as much as I know a lot of people want to blame Horikoshi since it is his manga, let's not forget who he works for. I don't know the man, but we all have seen what any kind of entertainment industry will do when it comes to any kind of media.
And again, it's not just the writing of the chapter that rubbed me the wrong way. Sure, some bits I could try to make sense of it, even if I don't like it (frankly, something I think should be learned).
But again, as I have said it multiple times before, it was indeed the fandom's reaction to Midoriya and just Midoriya that irked me to the point.
And here's the thing... IT ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS EVEN BEFORE THE EPILOGUE.
Like, no, epilogue sucks or whatever, but now I feel like it's just being used as an excuse to further hate on Midoriya more.
Every other character had gotten some kind of "Oh, they got done dirty" by the fandom, but no, not Midoriya. I saw quite a few people framing him as the bad guy when he is also a victim of flawed writing, too!
Even if admitting he too had flawed writing, he still gets hate for it while other characters are felt sorry for.
But even, again, before that the fandom had shown me how much they don't care about him at all. I would say it's always been evident from the start.
Haters, supposed fans... it doesn't matter.
No, I don't expect everyone to like him or see him the same way.
What frustrates me is that some people act like they don't do Midoriya dirty, too, whether you like or not and it's not always the fault of the narrative. The narrative could be flawless and some of you would still hate him for whatever reason or twist him to fit how you want to see him.
#and don't bring up toga or uraraka here because it's not about them right now (still love them)#this post is specifically about how some of you don't give midoriya the same grace you give other characters#you'll freely admit this and that about other characters even if you're a hater#but when it comes to midoriya he gets no handouts#the epilogue didn't start that be fucking for real#IT'S ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THAT#just kiya's thoughts#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#midoriya izuku#izuku midoriya#deku#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bnha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers
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3.215 Family fun day
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After the toast, we got up and sang Froodage Lang Syne. Desi didn't know the words, but she sure sang her little heart out. She's so adorable. We hugged, said goodbye to the O'Keefes, and headed back home to watch the pre-countdown show. I was exhausted and really wanted to take a nap, but knew if I went to sleep, I'd be done for. So, I stood and watched, thinking that would reduce my chances of falling asleep. Sophia and Desiree enjoyed the show, laughing at all the silly characters dancing in costume. At least, in my drowsy state, it seemed silly to me. Finally, it was time for the countdown, and I was so glad. I could almost feel the cool sheets brushing against my skin, ha.
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In the morning, I awoke rather early, refreshed and thankful for another year and excited about this next chapter of our lives. Tomorrow, Desiree begins school, and Sophia and I will have to figure out what to do with ourselves while she's gone. But that is a thought for another day because I had plans for Desi and was eager to get started. I went to her room and checked in on her like I used to do when she was a baby, and just like then, she was already wide awake and ready to get at it.
"Good morning, sweetie," I said.
"Daddy, your breath stinks!"
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"Oh yeah??"
I gave her more kisses as she tried to pull away from me. Eventually I got her giggling.
"What do you want for breakfast?"
"Pancakes!"
"Auntie Less used to love pancakes too! Are you gonna help me this time?"
She giggled some more and nodded, so we went downstairs. I opened the fridge to gather the ingredients, only to find absolutely nothing. The thing was empty. Like, literally empty. No water, no milk, not even a half eaten plate of leftovers. I couldn't remember the last time I made a grocery order, and that scene definitely confirmed it.
"I guess we're gonna have to go get some pancakes then," I said.
Honestly, that was a better idea, anyway. Going out to eat is always fun, and I want Desi to have as much fun as possible today. I called Less to see if she and the nibblings wanted to come with us, and we met at the steakhouse in Oasis Springs.
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The host had a much better attitude this time and sat us in the party room on the balcony. Sophia and Less gabbed, and it warmed my heart so much to think about how their relationship started. Alessia was so mean to her for no reason other than being selfish. Maybe their shared experience softened her up, but whatever it is, I'm just glad she let Sophia in. Desi and Arvin left to go play with her soccer ball; hopefully they went outside. I don't need that host changing her mind about us. With half the table preoccupied, I asked Lex and Breanna what they looked forward at school. Lex wants to make friends, and Bre wants to play pranks.
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I didn't really like that answer, but you know what? Not my kid, not my problem. I'm trying to be mindful of how I react because of my missteps yesterday. I want to be a good parent and seize all the teaching moments so my kid turns out to be the envy of all, heh. But, I also need to learn to choose my battles, and this one is definitely not it. Desi and Arvin came back just before the food came out, so I asked her the same question. Like Lex, she's also looking forward to making friends and playing with Savannah.
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After breakfast, we took the kids to the park in Yasmine's neighborhood. I called her and said we were out there, and if she were comfortable, her girls could come play if they want. She appreciated the invite but declined, just like I thought she would. I thought the kids would enjoy playing in the jungle gym and monkey bars, but they just stood around and talked, so we joined them. When it comes to my niece and nephews, Sophia usually leaves them to me. She rarely talks to them, but this time she opted to chat up Breanna and Arvin. At some point, she noticed Lex had been left out of all the conversations. His siblings seem to favor each other, and Less and Desi have the cutest relationship, so she went to go chat with Lex. I thought that was really sweet of her.
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Alessia's phone buzzed, and she grinned as she replied to a text. What's this?! Has she finally got back into the dating pool? I wanted to ask about this mystery person sooooo bad, but it's not something we should discuss in front of the kids, so I left it alone.
The afternoon got away from us, so I told Less we were going to head home. Yoga wasn't the only thing I wanted to do with Desi. Someone had given her a bike for her birthday, and it was high time she learned to ride that thing.
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She seemed excited at first, but once she sat on it and put the helmet on, everything changed.
"I don't wanna do it," she whined.
"Why not?" I asked. "It's gonna be so much fun when you get the hang of it."
"I'm scared!"
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"It's okay, Desi. You don't have to pedal yet. Just kinda walk it with your feet so you can learn to keep your balance."
"But what if I fall?"
"You won't. Your feet will never leave the ground."
"Okay."
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She walked the bike in circles in front of us, very slow and careful. She didn't fall or trip or whatever she thought would happen, and when she had enough, she hopped off with a smile on her face. The situation reminded me so much of when she was learning to sit up. She was so concerned at first, but we kept at it. She stayed strong and pressed through. Eventually she did it, and she was so proud of herself. This will be just like that.
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#ISBI challenge#sims 4 story#sims 4 gameplay#adolting#adolting gen 3#luca winston murillo#sophia aguilar#alessia murillo#desiree amari murillo#lex murillo#arvin murillo#breanna murillo#I love the simple living lot trait#needing groceries is a great way to get your sims out of the house
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Yes! Season 4 is full of using ily to contrast Mike and I've been saying this. Even if improv, they kept it (only the Eddie one was).
Jason tells Chrissy.
Nancy and Jonathan say it about each other.
PAPA FUCKING SAYS IT ABOUT EL AND HENRY. PAPA. they are establishing so strongly that you can say it without meaning it or believe it without it being true RIGHT before Mike says it.
And then there are TWO OTHERS IN 4X09 *THE SAME EPISODE*, originally intended one but now two
Right after Mike's, Eddie tells Dustin and Dustin says it back.
And BIGGEST TO ME OF ALL, they SCRIPTED to one-up Mike and Eleven in the last scene before El's fighting started/jumpstarting the impending ily speech:
Jonathan says it to Will.
Everybody cared more about that and they knew it.
Know what else? You probably didn't know any of that. And as I've said before, I wouldn't doubt that Mike loved El if he'd never said it. Until 3x06 I assumed that he had. Even after he did, it was only when everyone reacted with alarm that I discovered he hadn't. It was obvious to me. But now I don't believe him anymore.
They had the most people ever say "I love you" in season 4. Every scripted case being first. By the time Mike says it, we have seen it done better, and we have established that it can be unreliable. And only THEN do they let him.
I remember thinking they would use a song to wake Nancy then realizing they wouldn't because for marketing they would want Running Up That Hill to be the "season 4 song". They reserved a song for the whole season. They damn well could have reserved an "I love you". By the time it was Mike's turn, we had heard it at least FIVE TIMES ALREADY - "at least" because I wouldn't be surprised if I'm forgetting a Hop about El or Victor about his family or something.
Mike was SIXTH. And by keeping the cut of Eddie they didn't even make him the closer! He was SIXTH of SEVEN! And the one that was a LIE DIRECTLY REFERENCED MIKE'S PREVIOUS ATTEMPT
Never over how much more Jonathan saying it to Will matters to literally everyone than romance - queer acceptance is more important than even the sweetest love story and people empathize with that - and they put it JUST A FEW SCENES *BEFORE* MIKE'S to keep in your mind fresh what it's SUPPOSED to look and feel like.
Saw someone on Reddit point out that it took Mike an entire season to say I love you to El while Jason was able to say it to Chrissy in ep one and. Yeah. Kinda interesting how Mike is set up from the very beginning of the season to be the opposite of the macho hometown hero like that.
Not that the writers could possibly be trying to tell us anything though
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i think it is especially hilarious that the fandom made such a big deal out of Darius' "only the small ones will get eaten" moment, considering:
how many times characters try to eat someone; not to mention many gags where the core characters are comicaly callous in inappropriate moments. And that Darius' line was framed similary as a comedic moment in canon!
#i didn't even like that scene because i think the time would have been better spent on explaining his motivations#but it is not different from any other instance of dark humour 101 in the series#darius deamonne#toh darius#the owl house#also amity's hands look so weird in the screenshot somehow it looks like she has way more fingers than in reality#darius rewatch meta#toh rewatch numericalbridge
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it probably is insane how much I wish I could express the thing about spones. the vibes about spones. Like there's the joking fun fandom vibes and I love them, I love to play with them, of course of course. but the THING. the CORE to me. i wish i could capture it and share it.
#like. the constancy. like the friction matters because it's hand in hand with the steadfastness you know? and it doesn't preclude tenderness#also climbing into the mind of the person you've been obsessed with understanding and being understood by.#and the fact that it's lifelong. and the teasing. and the fact that the growth is in the allowance of imperfections#allowing that imperfections exist in who you love allows you to love them allows you to love yourself#and i always love people knowing what you believe and bolstering it when you feel lost even when it's not their philosophy#(bones asking spock hope? isn't that a human failing? and him not allowing that#spock losing himself to emotion in all our yesterdays and bones reminding him how antithetical that is to him)#but even with all that seriousness - the TEASING. the plain fun. the constant reaching out regardless of their moods#the constant seeking each other out. the almost - given nature of the relationship.#it's not in some ways as dramatic as a Simple Feeling as the When I Think of You I Feel Shame.#it's bones growing into old age the human way one day at a time with spock#when people are like oh spock just put his katra in him because he was there - yeah. and he was always going to be the one who was there#this is why the earth moon sun metaphor works for the triumvirate so much better than sun moon stars imo#bones is the earth spock is the moon kirk is the sun#'the captain was indispensable'#the sun - a distant lifegiver to them and many others. they do revolve around it. have unique relationships to it#the earth revolutes the sun which brings it life. the moon has a face it only shows the sun#and the moon revolutes the earth. their gravity shapes each other. they reach out to each other. they formed in a collision outward#in some ways are entirely different but have the same stuff in them. spin the same.#idk it just makes so much sense for them all.#but even just getting back to them. again just the obsession with each others mind.#'i will never understand the medical mind' 'mathematically perfect brainwaves'#and then complimenting each other always so startlingly out of the blue with their own fields -#'you have a good bedside manner spock' 'perhaps if they had your ingenuity they would have'#the seeking each other's advice out even if it's just to argue with it lmao. the motif of their last words always going to each other#even wrath of khan - we know spock was talking to bones in his head. i do always wonder what was in their tsfs reunion scene#that shatner didn't want to happen.#I don't know and even this isn't the heart of it.#there's the families and the way they fit into each other's conception and value and weight of family#do i even tag this spones. this is just crazy rambling.
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New Age au (A Day at Dream's)
Hey y'all! This is another pre-story Drabble, this time from Dream's perspective! Exiled prince doing his best to interact with the populous and do his daily tasks! This was mainly just an attempt from me to get back into writing for this au, and ofc, fleshing out Dream! Hope y'all enjoy!
(Who do I normally tag? @ancha-aus @papiliovolens @mutzelputz I believe? Welcome back y'all!)
The morning was warm, something that Dream had to be grateful for. Ever since the incident, it seemed like he was faced with far more cloudy days than sunny ones, even in the midst of summer. The winters froze so harshly that trees would splinter at the branch, limbs cracking like cannon shots in the nights. The spring was full of awful thunder storms that spewed lightning and wrought floods, and the fall was constantly welcoming wind storms that threw around the rotten remains of plants all about. Even Blue had to admit that the weather was much worse here than his home kingdom, after the first year they’d spent at the very border of Orchard.
Summers were hit and miss, either clinging to the traces of those awful storms, making everything sticky and humid, or beginning the dry season. This morning, as far as Dream could tell, might’ve finally been the start of a dry season. The garden didn’t seem to be swamped, it didn’t seem to be wilted either. The plants always seemed to know when rain was coming, because their leaves would downturn. After so many years, Dream made it a habit to glance out one of the back windows to make sure he knew just what to expect from the day.
Buttoning his over-cloak, he found himself lingering at the window for a second. He knew he’d have to talk with a returning scouting party later in the afternoon, their most survived thus far, but beyond that there wasn’t much else. Go about the camp, see if he could boost morale, maybe get in a training session with Blue…
Speaking of Blue, his loyal knight was seemingly nowhere to be found.
Dream took a moment, crossing the quaint living room of their cabin to squint at the sky. Hmm, already past midday. He had been up rather late last night, night terrors plaguing him as they often did nowadays. He must’ve slept in, Blue had always been an early riser. Up just before the sun, back to bed late in the evening. Dream was pretty sure the only days he hadn’t seen Blue out on a morning jog were those that he asked the other to stick around. For safety, for planning, for breakfast… If he knew Blue well enough, which he liked to think he did, Blue was probably out right about now helping the supply carts unload to the outer tents. They always came in on the 2nd of every month, and the calendar marked it as such. Bless Blue for keeping such good track of affairs.
The prince was practiced as he pulled on his remaining accessories. His archery gloves, which carried up to his elbows, and the thick leather boots gifted to him by a cobbler in the closest village. The boots were durable and comfortable, and while they weren’t the morst appealing at first, Blue had suggested that they find someone to embroider them with Dream’s symbol, the sun. They’d done so, asking one of the refugees they’d taken in if she could, and now they felt much more homey. Of course, it’d been several years now and they were looking worse for wear, but he’d grown a bit sentimental.
These things were his, and he could keep them as long as he liked. No one here cared if they were mud-stained and threadbare in a few places, they were always looking at his face, after all.
The moment they were buckled securely, Dream took the chance to stroll towards the door and push outside.
Just as his plants suggested, the air was warm and dry, something which was deeply familiar to him, and admittedly placed him into a much warmer mood. Especially because, with the good weather, folks had gone about and placed their tapestries outside again. Banners and hanging pieces, all adorned with the shapes of the sun, in bright yellows, striking orange, and even some with that familiar pink accent. Usually, when it rained or snowed, they’d place the expensive and valuable symbols inside for safety, but with the warm air it felt only right that he could once again see his colors flying.
It reminded him why he was doing all this. He had to regain power, to usurp his brother. Free him from whoever was whispering lies into his ears. Be crowned and see his sun in place of the moons which had infected every inch of the capital and many cities beyond. Though, for now, this was good enough. His own little paradise.
The walk int the campsite proper was a little ways out from the cabin, a slightly thinner trail through a thin set of trees. Enough that he could see the camp, but the camp wasn’t directly connected to his little house, he needed his privacy every once in a while.
From even the short walk away he could hear that the camp must’ve been bustling. Warm weather tended to make all of his people more active, it was familiar and welcoming, and rife with time to finish tasks like chores, or playing games, or, even better yet, training. Here there was no dedicated guard like back home, but the militia was very involved in wanting to learn combat, and Blue was certainly a good motivator for them. The clashing of steel and grunting of labored movements was one of several clue-ins that he’d have to stop by the little patch of dirt they used as a training arena of sorts. Off to the side of camp, with a few benches, a shed to store practice weapons, and several targets for aiming practice. Nothing fancy, but certainly enough for these people to learn.
The prince could hardly help himself as he stepped into the camp proper and slipped that way.
Each step passed colorful tents, heavy canvas died different colors by whoever most often occupied them. Some tenets were larger, housing the folks who stayed here as their home, run out of whatever village or city drove them off. Others were smaller, filled with supplies or individual tents for guests, dedicated to their returns.
Dream passed Inl’s tent and smiled to himself in the silence. The inside fo the tent was piled high with half-finished paintings and splattered all over with different pigments. Paint was an expensive commodity, but Ink always seemed to know just how to make the brightest pigments out of the most random objects, plants and rocks and leaves he found on the ground, it was magical. The only thing he’d ever finished when he stayed at the camp for that brief while was the painting which Dream had practically begged him for, a royal portrait, or sorts. Dream sat atop a throne, Blue stood beside him at perfect attention, holding the sun-themed banner. It had been perfect, and it was another of Dream’s prized possessions. After that, Ink hadn’t had the focus to do any of the other paintings he started, but many of them were about tails of Dream’s usurpment, tails of tragedy told to him by the people, made in rough color splashes or with a big chunk of white at a corner where he lost his focus and moved on. Dream had gone inside once to make sure Ink hadn’t left anything behind before he left, but decided it felt lifeless and cold without the artist inside.And besides, Ink could never quite draw Nightmare right. Even though he’d drawn Dream perfectly, and they were identical twins, something always felt off about those pieces.
The brief moment thinking about the artist fled. He was surely off killing some corrupt noble right about now for his own corrupt pay, and it was frankly none of Dream’s business so long as Ink wasn’t after his own people.
His boots carried lightly over the soft grass, trodden down by the constant walking about camp. Light green and pretty, his heels sunk into soft soil beneath like some sort of bog, but it didn’t bother him a bit. If he had his way, the sun would stay out all day and dry up the ground a bit, make it more even and solid. Easier to walk over, less likely to slip into.
To just his luck, only a few people spotted him in passing, waving or calling out to him, and a smile and a wave of recognition was all they needed to move on with their days. His aura must’ve been getting stronger, because he could only taste the ambient contentment from the entire camp as he wandered his way towards his destination.
And, soon enough, it was upon him. That little patch of ground where the sounds had been coming from. Where the magic of monsters and the energy of humans were all alight with passion and focus. It was a wonder they all stayed so committed. Though, Dream had learned fairly quickly that people like these, who worked in farms, or crafts, making their money day to day, would work harder than any other person he’d ever met. Plus, it wasn’t nearly as hard for them to train as others. These very people could wrangle a steer with their bare hands, so all they needed was the fine-tuning and weapon training, none of the strenght building which usually took so long.
That was probably why, now, they were as adept as they were with their weapons. Swords and halberds and morning stars and hammers, all of them clashed with another weapon or a practice dummy. Of course, there were only about 10 people out and about at the moment, but a few others sat on the sidelines.
There was a brief moment where he was simply stood there. Something about combat, the thrill of the sounds and the movements and the force behind each swing, it was all mesmerising to him. He’d always been a natural with long-range weapons, and they were the only ones his mother ever approved of him using. Staying out of the direct line of fire, attacking from far away, that was what would protect his physical body, and his image. If he was struck in a fight, then people would look poorly upon him. Of course, if he’d become King he could’ve done anything. Could’ve learned the sword, or even daggers, and gotten up close and personal. Seen the flurry of emotions fly through his opponents eyes even before he tasted them. No mother to tell him no, no babysitter, nothing. Just him and the battle.
Alas, here he is, still using his arrows, and still not using close-combat weaponry, unlike the training warriors before him. In fact, he was pretty positive he was one of the only people who actually used the arrow range, even if he didn’t need to anymore. Shots were engrained into his mind, muscle memory practically as easy as sleeping. Maybe easier, actually.
Regardless, he found himself forcing his eyelights past the forms of the fighting parties, and instead skimmed for Blue. Dream didn’t want to interact with the merchants today, but he knew Blue’s next stop would most likely be here. He couldn’t ever pass up as great a day as this to practice.
“Prince Dream!” The call for him was loud and excited, and a hot rush of child-like wonder burned through his focus as he stood waiting.
His eyelights shot over, catching sight of a monster he knew should be familiar to him. There very very few people who brought their little ones to the camp, for safety reasons mostly, and those who did often had very subdued children, ones who rarely spoke or played or caused trouble. This child was entirely different. Dream always knew they were nearby, because children’s emotions were far more potent. Adult emotions felt like a warm bath, while children’s joy, for example, was like someone had splashed hot tea onto his lap. Not painful, but far more striking.
The tyke who rushed towards him now was giggling in high-pitched squeals and stared at him with two bright orange eyelights, beig and round. He was a little skeleton, maybe four, who had white bones with splotches of a greyish hue splattered across his face and hands. Today he was wearing a little white and yellow tunic which had obviously taken some falls into the grass since he put it on that morning.
“Copper, what did we say about running with the practice blade?” Another voice called out, this one deeper and far more familiar to Dream.
The little one, who Dream now spotted was carrying a dulled wooden dagger in one of his clumsy hands, bolted past Dream’s legs, only to pivot and rush in circles around him with an energy unmatched and giggles that were unrivaled in joy. HE was obviously getting enjoyment out of causing mischief for his guardian.
Dream’s gaze traveled away from Copper with his smile in-tact, not getting a look at the adult whom he knew he knew. Eclipse, one of Copper’s two parents. He was also a skeleton, older than Dream by at least a decade, and much taller with broader shoulders. His bones were a perfect white, his face a bit long, and his eyelights a simple white. He was wearing a tunic not unlike his son, but adorned with all sorts of belts and a heavy fur wrapped around his shoulders despite the heat. It was a dark brown, his partner’s prized pelt.
Of course, he should’ve expected to see Eclipse sometime today. He’d been eagerly awaiting his partner’s return from the mission. They’d be back tonight.
“Eclipse, how have you been?” Dream asked courteously, drawing his eyes back to Copper with a plan rapidly forming.
Eclipse came to a halt beside him, at least an arm’s length away, and sighed a fond sigh. “I am faring well, all considered. Since Ichor went off for this mission, Copper’s been insisting that he has to learn to fight so he can protect us.” Eclipse said. “I apologize for his antics, he’s insisted that he start training right away.”
Eclipse sounded humored, but Dream could feel the tiredness seeping from his shoulders. A tension that was surely weighing on him. For a moment, it had entirely slipped his mind, but a glance confirmed his suspicion. Ichor and Eclipse had been away from camp fro a few weeks, about four months back. They’d had a soulling, and now it sat bundled in Eclipse’s arms, quiet and content, probably sleeping. Something warmed Dream’s heart, knowing that this little skelton was under the impression that he could defend his father and little sibling.
Dream chuckled under his breath and gave a genuine grin, letting a small burst of positivity wave away from his core, pushing back a bit of Eclipse’s worry along with it.
“No need to be sorry, I was eager to train when I was young too.” Dream confided, but before Eclipse could give a response, Dream crouched and shot his arms out, catching Copper under the arms and practically tossing him up into the air. He was obviously taken by surprise, because he shrieked with glee and stared at Dream with his big eyelights and the biggest smile. He looked a lot like his other parent, Dream realized.
Copper giggled and Dream held him aloft. Copper hardly weighed anything, and it was a little cute how he kicked his muddy little boots in the open air as Dream held him aloft. He was entirely unbothered by his capture, and the energy obviously had yet to fade.
“So, you want to be big and strong to protect your father and little sibling?” Dream asked to Copper, making a mock serious face, obviously exaggerated and playful.
Copper gasped and nodded rapidly, excitedly brandishing his little wooden dagger. “Papa gave me dis! I stab any bad guys!” He insisted excitedly, swishing it around wildly in his little hand, arm limited to his side by the way Dream was holding him.
Now this was an excited little fellow. Very cute and lively. Dream wondered if he ad this much energy, rushing ahead of his twin to get out into the courtyard and run around, climb the trees when their babysitter wasn’t looking. Nightmare sometimes wrestled with him, he missed those days.
“Well, I thin you have the makings to be a brave warrior!” Dream encouraged, Copper wriggling happily in his grip, “Just remember, your papa and father want to keep you safe too, so listen to them, alright? That’s how you can get to be just as strong as them.”
This was met by Copper’s nodding yet again, “So, don’t go running with that dangerous blade, alright? You might accidentally stab a not-bad guy.” Dream added, to which Copper gasped.
The little boy pulled one of his hands to cover up his mouth with wide eyes, shaking his head vigorously. “I won’t stab a not-bad guy! Only bad bad guys!” He insisted.
Dream just shook his head and tutted, “I know, I know, but accidents happen! My friend Ink, he fights with knives sometimes, and he tripped and almost stabbed someone right in the eye once!” Dream exclaimed, and closed his right socket dramatically.
This seemed to make Copper hold back a growing smile, and instead his expression was something almost close to a pout. His best attempt at a serious face, Dream had to imagine. Copper nodded one singular, forceful, nod this time. Some sort fo silent pledge not to run with his dagger anymore.
Dream smiled at him, “Good, good! First step to becoming a strong warrior, listen to your parents.” he insisted, before lowering Copper down with a smooth motion.
The kid giggled again as Dream rustled the top of his skull, and Copper made careful steps towards his dad, an obvious attempt at suddenly being responsible with the harmless wooden blade. Dream was a little proud, usually he did much worse with kids, had to resort to his magic. Maybe Blue was rubbing off on him after all.
“You really are a miracle-worker, my Prince.” Eclipse said softly, reaching one of his own hands down to gently caress the top of Copper’s skull. He nuzzled into his father’s leg and hugged it, attention distracted by watching the other fight not far off from them.
Dream didn’t deny it, and instead just slunk a bit closer. He peered down at the babybones wrapped in Eclipse’s arm, held snug in place by a sling. It was pearly white just like its brother, but had a slightly longer face with pronounced cheekbones. Dream couldn’t help but notice the tension return to Eclipse’s emotions.
“What’s their name, have you two decided yet? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to check in with you sooner.” Dream asked.
Eclipse seemed unbothered when Dream lifted a hand and gently brushed it against the babybone’s skull. It didn’t stir, didn’t even seem to register the contact.
“His name is Steel.” Eclipse answered softly, “I told Ichor we wouldn’t be naming any more after metal alloys, but I can never say no to him. Steel’s eyelights are a beautiful shade of metallic silver, it was just too fitting.” Eclipse muttered. “And please, don’t trouble yourself with it. We are well aware of how busy you have been.”
Eclipse gently bounced his arm a bit, and the babybones curled a bit closer to his chest, burying into the fur cloak draped over Eclipse’s shoulders. He seemed a bit more at ease as the little one gave a little smile in his sleep.
“Handsome name, Ichor has good taste I’m afraid.” Dream teased, eliciting a smale laugh from Eclipse.
“Do you think he’ll make it home safe, my prince?” Eclipse suddenly asked.
Dream blinked in surprise, looking up to Eclipse. The other skeleton still had his eyes on the babybones tucked against his chest, but Dream had a feeling he was being watched nonetheless.
“You mean Ichor?” He asked, and to a hum of confirmation, he tilted his head with a grin, “I’m sure he’ll come home safe and sound. Blue’s been sure to send him on non-combat missions, and with plenty of back-up and supplies. We both know that he has a family waiting for him here, we wouldn’t send him anywhere dangerous.”
That was a lie. Dream didn’t have any qualms about it. He just knew it was a lie. Every mission was dangerous, could turn to combat, and might end in death. Every person here, as much as Blue tried to deny, was expendable. They were part of a cause, they had to be. Of course, Dream would never put children in danger, but Ichor, just like every other person here, came willingly looking to help. He volunteered his family for this willingly.
Of course, that isn’t what people like to hear. So, he’ll tell him things he’s heard Blue say. Blue was so kind-hearted, a softie. The moment he heard Ichor and Eclipse were having another soulling he’d re-assigned all their missions and work, and even after they’d both recovered, after Ichor was no longer carrying, he sent the guy on the easier missions. Blue didn’t want to split a family.
Eclipse sighed, almost with relief, at Dream’s words. “Thank you, my Prince. I suppose I’m just worried over nothing. I’ve been known to do such silly things.” Eclipse relented, and smiled. It was tired, but much happier than before. Dream’s aura must’ve finally gotten to him. Broken down those worries.
“Anytime, Eclipse. I suppose I’ll see you at their return tonight?” Dream voiced, though he knew the answer. Of course he’d be there.
Eclipse only took a few more moments, wishing Dream a good rest of the day, before he ushered his son foreward and off elsewhere. Dream waved goodbye to them until they passed a corner, and he internally sighed in relief as he turned back to his original goal.
Dream moved closer by a few paces and plopped himself down onto one of the benches, one side left empty by someone who had just rushed onto the field. He summoned his bow to his hands and fiddled with the string, and ill-disguised attempt at seeming busy as he just watched the proceeding spars.
So many people stopped him daily around camp, often simply wanting to chat and catch up on their lives. Eclipse’s new babybones was, thankfully, the most exciting piece of news in the last few months, but before that was a wedding between a bunny monster and a hare monster, before that was the death of someone’s spouse and a subsequent burial, before that siblings reunited, they all had their own stories and things to keep track of. Dream found it trivial, but unfortunately, everyone expected him to now these things, remember them, keep track and ask when they met outside of business times. If he wanted these people to stay, he needed to know.
His only grace was that Blue was very talented in chatting. Where Dream could rouse crowds and battalions, Blue thrived in a setting of just one or two, and somehow knew just about everything about everyone. They’d talk over dinner, about what they did while split up doing their duties. Dream would tell him about the state of the garden, or the new map he managed to draw up with the cartographer, while blue would tell him all the latest menial news. Crushes, holiday plans, when new people were coming in, all of it. He was always so happy, that Dream simply learned to remember it through him. Shockingly an easy feat.
The clanging of swords and the heat were both a welcome comfort, Dream was soaking in the sun like some sort of lizard on its rock.
Dream just hoped he wouldn’t eat his words later. Blue had sent ichor and a few others on a mission to simply attend the latest ball, and annual celebration for one of his brother’s elite knights. The Criminal, he thought, the one with the tiger mask. Killer. The parties hadn’t had conflict in the four years they’d been running, and Dream was pretty sure ichor wouldn’t go missing. Yet, anyone they sent directly to the capital had a habit of not returning. Blue had forbade him from sending more spies that way, and had only agreed to send a small party because the ball was meant to be open to the public, so they wouldn’t be technically intruding or trespassing. Along with that, Ichor wasn’t directly affiliated with their cause. Eclipse, up until now, was usually the one more familiar with intel-work. Ichor had always been more focused on welfare and support. So, Ichor couldn’t be recognized. ‘
Dream would just have a lot of explaining to do if his promise went awry. Grieving souls were never easy, especially those who had children in tow. They often loved the hardest, and fell shortly after their beloved. Frankly, Dream didn’t want to lose two promising members of the rebellion, or be left with their children in the worst case scenario.
The prince sighed to himself. Blue would scold him for thinking like this. Maybe he should worry less about the return party and more about his own training. He couldn’t risk getting rusty now.
- -
Dream was aware the range was a bit out of his sight from where he’d wandered off to get a drink of water, but when he returned, he hadn’t expected to find an arrow embed itself into the block he was passing beside.
He jumped a bit with the force of the heavy thunk and almost choked on his own breath when he spotted exactly who was actually training with a bow of all things.
Across the range, looking wide-eyed and surprised, was Blue! He had their heavy long-bow clutched in his right hand, an arrow hanging to his side y his left, and a whole slew of arrows leaned against the fence behind him, the kind with thin, piercing points that could tear through armor. Dream had never been more baffled, amused, and amazed all in one. Why was Blue training archery?
“Dream! Hey!” Blue called out, and he sounded a bit awkward.
Dream took a moment to examine the arrow which had pieced the block of hay they were using as a target. It had entirely missed the circle, actually passing itself at an odd angle through he side, the point poking out from the other end haphazardly. That must’ve used a lot of force if nothing else.
Actually, it seemed Blue might’s been making some progress. Dream had been gone for almost half an hour, caught up in talk with one of the new refugees, welcoming them to the camp. That had given his knight plenty of time to try more than enough shots. Dream spotted now the several arrows which had dug themselves into the dirt, all at a downward falling angle as through Blue had been aiming for the dirt. Then, beyond the hay bale, he could see that several trees in the woods beyond had arrows embedded in them. He didn’t know how he’d missed them, honestly.
Dream circled back and gripped one which had dug into a pine tree’s skinny trunk, and tugged with all his might. He nearly stumbled, and the end of the arrow seemed to have sap coating it, like blood of the tree itself.
Dream actually laughed as he finally approached his knight, the arrow in-hand.
“If you wanted syrup so badly, we could’ve asked for some on the resupply.” Dream joked.
He tapped the shaft of the arrow to the top of Blue’s skull, and the knight sheepishly ducked away from the sticky feeling, the arrow moving with him for a moment before springing away. Blue’s eyelights didn’t evade Dream’s, but Dream couldn’t help but notice the embarrassment becoming far more potent from his friend.
“Ah, yes, you see…” Blue started, before pausing, “I had no intention of harming the flora.” Blue said, though it seemed a bit half-hearted.
Blue rubbed at his skull as he lowered the long-bow from his front, down to his side. It was a huge weapon, with a string practically made of metal. Dream didn’t usually bother with the long-bows, sticking to the normal bows, or in desperate situations, crossbows. It took way too much power to shoot a longbow for his liking, limited movement. Usually people on horses used them. Dream couldn’t see the light leave someone’s eye from atop a finicky horse.
“It was a good shot, even if you didn’t mean to hit the poor tree, Blue.” Dream amended. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass Blue, it was obvious the mood was tanking with Dream’s ill-timed jokes. “Can I ask why you’re trying out the long-bow today?”
The feeling of Blue’s pride washing over Dream like a comforting blanket as the other seemed to get a second wind. He puffed his chest and lifted the bow right in front of him again.
“The Magnificent Blue has actually been learning to shoot for some time! The smaller ones that you use are not very cooperative, but this large one does well!” The explained proudly, “It was meant to be a surprise, but I would not lie to you!”
He seemed largely unbothered by the fact that this secret of his had just been broken wide open. Though, Dream had to imagine this had been going on for a while now. The last time Dream had seen Blue attempt to shoot an arrow, it had narrowly avoided breaking their window in the back garden. They still had a notch in the wall on the back porch, because Dream begged Blue not to fill it in. He’d laughed so hard, and back then he’d needed a good-
“Wait, why was it going to be a surprise?” Dream asked curiously, raising a brow to watch Blue.
The knight laughed loudly, “Because! The plan was to get very very good at it, and then join you for a practice one day and show you! I know you are very talented with lond-range weapons, and if I were too, then I could fight beside you without placing you in danger! You mentioned it once, a while back.” Blue explained as though it was the simplest thing in the world.
Dream felt a little something in his chest shift to the left as he processed what Blue was referencing. He had mentioned that. Back when they had to scare off some bandits during their trip here, before they found the cottage. He wished Blue hadn’t had to charge in while Dream sat up in a tree and shot at them. Dream had wanted to be in the fray, but… Blue thought he wanted them both to be long range fighters? So they could stay close?
That was up there with some of the most heartwarming things Blue had ever done for Dream. Trust him, there were a LOT of heartwarming things Blue had done. This was surely, however, in the top 15.
“Oh, that’s kind of you.” Dream said gently,
In his distraction, Blue had knocked another arrow and lifted it up. Lined it. Drew the string back. Released.
The heavy string cut through the air with a vocal slapping noise, and both skeletons watched idly as the arrow arced through the air and just hardly skimmed the top of the hay bail, chunking into the ground somewhere behind it instead. There was a moment of Blue letting out a breath and calmly lowering the bow before he grinned again at Dream. His expression was so concentrated not two moments before.
“You know that I would do anything for you, Dream. Besides, using a bow is rather fun! I was unaware of how careful you have to be while firing, and setting it up, and aiming.” He listed off with a laugh.
Now the bow was back at Blue’s side, and Dream was even a bit impressed with his bow etiquette. It wasn’t pressed to the first at his side, he wasn’t fidgeting and bending it, even his motions before he hadn’t dared to dryfire with it. He wondered if Blue had picked it up from him, or if he’d sought out advice from another bowman somewhere. Either way.
“I never meant to discourage you from using your hammer, Blue. I know you’re the happiest while fighting with it.” Dream said earnestly, “But if you wish to continue working with the long-bow, I’m sure I could give you a few pointers.”
At the enthused expression he received from his knight, Dream grinned, “And then maybe you could teach me to use a hammer. Or, maybe a morning star? They always seemed to have a fitting name.” Dream teased, but Blue seemed even more delighted by the thought.
“That sounds great! We should start now!” Blue agreed, and readied his bow again.
Dream was a bit startled, but couldn’t bring himself to deny the enthusiasm. After all, he’d been hoping to train with Blue today anyways.
He watched again as Blue lined up his shot, but this time, he actually watched carefully. He moved behind Blue, and immediately saw a smidge of problem.
“Here, lift your elbow a bit higher.” He instructed, He stepped forward and set his hand under Blue’d elbow, the one which was pulling his arrow back. He shifted under the touch and stopped right where Dream stopped nudging. Immediately his posture looked a lot better, and his aim seemed more sure.
“Try pointing a bit further to the right, you’re leaning left.” He added on, and saw Blue squint a bit harder at his target, before repositioning his aim, shifting his feet along with it before Dream could say anything.
Then, when Dream gave the commend to release, Blue sent the arrow flying.
This time, it whistled as it shot and struck the bail right at the top ring of the target, almost dead center. Blue whooped an excitement, and Dream hummed. He could’ve sworn that would’ve hit the bullseye…
Without much through, Dream summoned his own bow and took aim from Blue’s side. His night went quiet, watching intently, and Dream let loose his arrow with less than half the preparation time, hardly a thought. Just as he’d expected of Blue’s, the arrow pierced the center of the ring flawlessly, though it didn’t sink in nearly as deep. His brow furrowed as the stared at the target. Why hadn’t Blue’s shot done that?
Sure, the bow was heavier, the arrow too, but the fundamentals should’ve been the same. The golden arrow and landed below the other one, why was that?
“Dream?” Blue’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Dream blinked at Blue, and Blue stared back at him, seeming mildly worried.
“My apologies, could you try hitting my arrow? I’ll spot you again.” Dream requested, and Blue just nodded and prepared himself again.
This time, Blue automatically placed his elbow up and turned himself to the right. Dream didn’t even need to do more than a little nudge to his arm to encourage a slight but more movement to the right. Blue should strike this perfectly.
The arrow flew, beautifully with a bit of a spin, and… Lodged a few inches to the left of the target. He was aiming right! How-
Ohhhhhh.
“That was great, Blue! You had everything but an extra set of eyes to direct you, good work!” Dream praised.
Now Blue celebrated properly, wrapping his arms around Dream’s sides in a heavy hug. A familiar one that Dream returned, as he realized how silly he had been for a moment. His arrows weren’t affected by the wind. Blue’s weren’t magic, so of course the air would throw them off course! For a brief, horrifying, moment he worried he’d somehow stumbled in his directions. It was just the wind.
Blue's hug was tight and affectionate, and very very welcome. Dream savored it, returning it tightly, until Blue released him and raised the bow once more. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to train until the caravan arrived in a few hours.
- -
Poor choices. He didn’t make many, but he wasn’t going to try and claim that training right up until the arrival was a good call. All he was expected to do was welcome them back, and then listen toIchor recount any important information they’d picked up on, but still. He didn’t enjoy being all grimy and sweaty and middy was the best look or the most comfortable. His only solace was that Blue was equally messay, so he didn’t feel too out of place.
Ask they approached the path into camp, they saw that the light of a lantern was glowing just a bit down the way, and there alone the road stood the sentinels for the night, and Eclipse.
Eclipse still wore that same tunic as before, though it had gained a grass stain along the bottom hem, no doubt from Copper breaking off at a full sprint at some point during the day. The skeleton himself was without his children, and when Blue greeted him and asked, it turned out he’d left them with someone named Jodie. One of the humans, he believed, a kind elderly woman here with her adult son. Eclipse looked exhausted, but Dream could tell is must’ve been from building worry. Nim help him and make sure that Ichor returns on that cart in one piece.
They stood there together in the quiet, and when the carriage pulled to a stop before them, Dream counted as each person hopped off and stood at attention before himself and Blue. One, two, three, for, five, six, seven… Eight. Ichor must’ve been looking to give his partner a soul-attack, because he was the last of the party to jump off the back of the cart, a thick bag slung over his back and his grin wide and stupid as ever.
Dream acted like he didn’t notice as Eclipse bowled into Ichor’s side, nearly tripping the both of them over and into the grass. Technically, procedure was that Dream would be the first to hear any of them speak, as they could’ve been keeping secrets. However, he knew better than to get between lover birds. That was more of a headache than it was worth.
Only when the two were done and Eclipse gave Ichor a swift peck on the forehead did Dream usher everyone into the debriefing tent to discuss their findings.
“You’re saying he’s bringing in new knights?” Dream questioned.
Everyone had been explaining their stories, but it seemed that Ichor had managed to get the closest. Hear the most. A servant had tripped over him and spilled a red wine on his suit, so he followed them back to the servants halls to get it cleaned up. Because he was so amicable, the maids weren’t very quiet and told him exciting news. Two more knights being trained.
Ichor had asked more, as much as he dared, but all he could get was that one of them was straight out of the dungeon, and the other one was burly and definitely a foreigner. Some sort of hired body, they swore. It’d be fall when the next party was rumored to be happening.
Dream hated to hear such a thing. The first criminal was enough, but this second one? And then another? Dream couldn’t fathom what sorts of horrible plans were being fed into his twin’s mind, what horrid plans they were going to enact, criminals and thugs running the country by his brother’s side?
He sighed a bit, resting a hand against his chin.
“Did you see my twin at all?” He asked then, to the group.
Ichor was the only one to nod, and Dream gestured to him.
“The guy was just as guarded as ya said. The Tiger kept circling back up to the balcony where he was hanging, but the stairs were all blocked off by guards, and some other folks were sitting up there with him. Magic on one of ‘em was strong.” Ichor explained, and Dream squinted as the torchlight glinted off of the skeleton’s single gold tooth. Now his pelt had been returned to him, and he looked perfectly barbaric, like the first day Dream had seen him.
“Mm, unfortunate. My brother is smart, he wouldn’t spare any detail in his protection, I suppose.” Dream muttered, before simply nodding. “Thank you, all. I’m sure you’ve had a tiring past few nights. Go to your tents and rest up, I’ll call upon you if I need to speak with you again sometime later in the week.”
He didn’t really want to dismiss them, but it was obvious half of them had gotten drunk off their asses within the first five minutes of being at the party. Ichor was really the only one with any good information, and even then, it was extremely limited. Of course, Dream had to be grateful that Nightmare must’ve been slipping with controlling the tittering tongues of his servants, it saved him the trouble of having to wait any longer for information.
Nightmare adding new, dangerous, knights was not ideal,
He watched as the party slowly filtered out, some stumbling, some half-awake, and even Ichor yawning as he ducked out of the tent. The only one who didn’t immediately flee was Blue, who sat for a few minutes longer before popping to his feet, gathering the notes strewn across the table, and helping Dream to his feet.
Together, they left the tent and moved back to the cottage. By now it was far into the night, and Dream could see the stars out. The moon, a thin crescent, seemed to mock him as he took careful steps in the darkness of the path. At least he’d gotten to enjoy the remaining sun the day had gifted him.
When they entered the cottage, Dream groaned and moved immediately for the couch. He could try to sleep, but he knew Blue still had to do his nightly routine, and he wouldn't be able to rest with the new information that had been provided.
“We’ll figure it out.” Blue said unprompted from across the main room.
His friend was organizing the papers from tonight into a nice little box where they kept all the notes for their plans, and when he placed it back on the shelf, he moved over to the dummy in the corner of the room where he always hung his armor. Every night.
“I know we will, it’s just…” Ough, he couldn’t say it! This was so infuriating! Every scout who managed to come back only brought him worse and worse news.
“Do you know, or are you just saying that? Because I know that I know we can figure this out! Two monsters can’t make the difference in a coup!” Blue stated matter-of-factly as he undid the buckles on his chest plate and lifted it up onto its rightful spot. Next followed the boots and Dream watched him. The prince was practically deflated on the cushions of the old couch, a pillow quickly tugged into this arms.
He was right. Dream knew it, he usually was after all. Still. It wasn’t the fighting that worried him. No, he and Blue alone could probably beat up whatever petty criminals were cabhorting with his twin. It was just…
“I do. I just- I- I don’t know how my twin could be so stupid!” He exclaimed, practically burying his skull into the pillow, bringing his knees up to his chest, practically curling into a ball. “He was meant to be my advisor, he was the clever one. How could he resort to killers and hired mercenaries. After all those classes he used to tell me about, all the lessons he had to go to, how could he decide to take this path?” He said, hoping his voice was muffled by the cushion.
Unfortunately, like most items in this cottage, it seemed to be cheap and only decorative. No muffling capabilities in sight. He heard Blue sigh, and for a few minutes, the only noise was Blue removing the rest of his armor.
When it faded, he strained to listen, and caught the floorboards creaking ever so gently under the weight of his friend’s approach. Then there was a pause, and then a weight on Dream’s skull. It trailed heavily down his neck and to his shoulders, before repeating itself. A soothing motion, one that Dream resisted for a moment.
“I never got to meet him, but I do know you! I think we can definitely knock some sense back into him.” Blue reassured him, and this time Dream listened.
Blue was right, after all. Blue had been able to knock sense into Dream. If anyone could bring Nightmare back to his senses, it would be Blue.
He let the skeleton keep doing that comforting motion against his skull for a few more minutes, savoring the contact, before he sighed heavily and shrugged. Blue retracted his hand, and was watching Dream with a soft smile when the prince finally lifted his head. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, before Dream smiled back.
They both really needed to get some rest.
#new age au#dude inclusion of old docs into the new story??? crazyyyy#Eclipse and Ichor are long-standing ocs and in most aus Eclipse Copper Steel and their other kid Rose Gold are all dead sooo. happy time fo#them here!! Ichor is a goofball but actually the more responsible one. Eclipse would scale a tower for fun if he had the chance.#Here they actually get to be a happy couple. And tbh I don't think Dream would know either of their names if it wasn't for Copper#he has a soft-spot for kids even if he's awful with them half the time-#OH! And Dream! He's still in his jaded era#but he's getting better! I feel like I need to stress that Dream is full of love and whimsy and care but. he doesn't know how#to express any of it through normal means. he needs to relearn how to express his care. Blue is helping him! This is not a#smoker downer hurt by the world Dream! He's just been gaslight and girl bossed all his life lmao#I hope his oblivious gay tones are shining through too btw. old habits die hard and he is NOT subtle#the scene with the arrow training? Everyone else can see them being cute and flirting but they're so so oblivious#everyone is betting on whether or not they kiss. they never do. Everyone knows except for them#And!! last thing I think? just like Dream Blue has a persona he puts on when he's out and about. It's not as drastic as Dream's because he#has fewer worries and stressors but he plays up his knight role visually when around others while when they're alone it turns into#the devotion and quiet chivalry that you see at the end. He also risks talking back to Dream more obviously in private. because Dream doesn#mind at all and they're as close to friends as Dream's ever had and closer friends than Blue had ever had#Okay I'm done now. Gonna go sketch Fresh now so that I can answer an ask lingering in my ask box that I love but didn't have time to get to
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(。・ω・。)ノ♡
#Alright I got tragically interrupted while watching it but I'm finally finished watching the episode!!#It's really really good both the animation and drawings are very detailed compared to the rest of the anime but...#The pace is so off :((( Like it's not the end of the world but ugh. It's unfortunate...#So many things just don't hit off as deeply because everything is moving so fast all the time and there's no time to process anything.#They won't allow you one second for the last line of a scene to sink in that the next scene's ost is already playing.#And like it's not even the worst crime an anime can commit I guess but still...#I wish they didn't. Like rather than make a 13 episodes season and squeeze the Sky Casino arc in merely two episodes it would have been–#a lot better to finish the season at the previous episode and make 12 episodes out of everything (so that everything could be better paced)#Like yeah maybe it's not the best season ending that there can be but... It's not terrible either‚ you have Atsushi saying the line–#“there's still hope” and the season ending there‚ that's pretty cool#I don't know why everyone feels like they have to rush all the time.#Guys do I have to be the one to remind you you make more money if more season come out.#Like how can the knowledge of Sigma being made by the book have any kind of impact when we've only known him for ten minutes.#Teruko's looking mad AND looking cutesy AND blowing up the landing zone didn't have the same comedic effect they did in the manga because..#It just happened all together! There's no time to process anything. Or maybe I'm just slow idk but I mean YOU GOTTA–#MAKE TIME FOR THE OPENING AND ENDING IN THE EPISODE c'mon man#Sorry I'm complaining it's actually good. I really really love Teruko & Tachihara. Jouno too!!!#I liked the Tahihara spotlight this episode... It's so cute to see what he's like when he's not acting– well‚ not completely I guess#Mmmmhhh.#Yesterday I read an interesting post on how a lot of early dc/mk wouldn't work today because the technology of the world has changed SO muc#I think a similar reflection can be made for the doa terrorist plot. Countries are pushing towards a complete digital money transition.#In 50 years or so coins may not be circulating anymore and today already the impact of this terrorist plot would be a lot smaller–#compared to when the chapters were coming out. I think#Well. Nice episode! Forward to next week! If tomorrow's manga chapter hasn't killed me before that#random rambles
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also I honestly hate Dazai's sudden bullshit theory about Hawthorne's blood bullets to explain how Fyodor killed the soldier at the end of the cannibalism arc, and the fact that this somehow never even occurred to him until now. Normally I do love seeing Dazai be wrong and be shocked/taken off guard for once, it's way too rare and needs to happen a lot more for how goddamn OP he is the rest of the time, but in this case instead of making him feel human from making a natural mistake (forgetting about Q, pinning the wrong person as Fyodor during the helicopter search in cannibalism), it just makes him look incredibly dumb to somehow not have foreseen this before now. Up till this point he's been 5D chess masterminding the shit out of everything, but somehow it didn't even occur to him that Fyodor might not actually be dead for real....... and all it took to make him think that was Sigma viewing his memories? Back when the cannibalism incident happened, the panels seem to indicate that he might know more about Fyodor's ability than he's letting on, but now it's confirmed that he never really knew anything at all, so that part was meaningless I guess...
The Hawthorne theory is so ludicrously out there, but it's in-line with all the other insanely out there things Dazai has been right about before, so it's probably correct lmao; it's just, WHY did he not come up with it until now??? The answer is of course that he didn't realize it until the Plot needed him to, and it's so frustratingly evident. 🫠 As convoluted as this twist is, I honestly wouldn't mind it if it had come from Fyodor himself after he inevitably comes back to taunt Dazai and co — I actually think it doesn't contradict everything else we've seen, because imo there's a difference between the soldier grabbing Fyodor's arm (clear contact), and when Fyodor lightly held his finger over Karma's forehead and most likely used his real ability there, just like he said he did. I think it's neat to think that we were all misdirected by the "Fyodor's ability works through direct contact" thing just because Dazai is the one who first said it, since we're so used to Dazai being right. But I wish Dazai hadn't figured out the truth all on his own so suddenly, doing a complete 180 from like two chapters ago, cause it just makes him look stupid. It doesn't feel like a natural mistake, it just feels like the plot forcing him to be dumb until it needs him to be smart again, which is really noticeable for a character otherwise so insanely smart as Dazai.
#bsd 114#it's like Asagiri needed to come up with an alternate explanation for the cannibalism scene and that was the best he could come up w now lo#and Dazai didn't think of it until now 1) because it needed to happen only now but 2) because Asagiri hadn't thought of it back then lol#i WANT more Dazai making mistakes and being wrong moments but it has to feel natural!!!!!#and not just when the plot calls for it#all the other few times Dazai has fucked up it made sense and felt like realistic mistakes he'd make even with how smart he is#but this just feels like the writing intentionally making him not realize something he otherwise would have a long time ago because plot lo#it would have been so much better if Fyodor had just blindsided him/them with all this#but asagiri always has to make Dazai give the big reveal speeches of how something happened no matter how stupid and outlandish it is *sigh
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Upon rewatch of the Mario Movie, I really gotta wonder how long the Mario Bros were in the Mushroom Kingdom for.
They get sucked through the pipe past sundown Brooklyn time, which depending on the season is like 8-9 o’clock, Mario arrives in the Mushroom Kingdom in the day time, maybe late afternoon, and spends the rest of the day through the night into the morning on Peach’s Mario Maker level, travels all the next day, sleeps in a Fire Flower field for the night, arrives at the Kong Kingdom mid the next day, leaves the Kong Kingdom on Karts around sunset, which turns to night as they are ambushed, leading to Mario and DK spending the entire night inside an eel only breaking out early the next morning, just to make it barely in time to Peach and Bowser’s wedding sometime around noon, and go back through the pipe to have it be early morning in Brooklyn with the rest of the Mario family carrying on with breakfast as usual.
So they spend 3 Days in the Mushroom Kingdom, but only like 12 hours of Brooklyn time seems to have passed.
#Mario Movie#Just. Ya know. Think thonkin#I had this thought the first time I watched the movie but I didn't have the thing memorized enough to be confident in my time calls#The passage of time in the movie btw is REALLY cool especially during the kart scene because it's Sunset to Darkness#So you can actually see the light fade and stars start to pop in here and there until it's fully night#Which is SO cool and easy to miss in that scene because a LOT is happening kfgdjkdfgk#I assume the Bros hadn't been gone 3 real world days for two reasons;#1. The Mario family is very close knit and I feel like they'd be a lot less Business as Usual if Mario and Luigi went missing#And 2. The time wouldn't sync up#8pm to Noon-ish to 8am to Noon doesn't make a lot of sense?#The wedding is in broad daylight btw I DID check multiple times to be absolutely sure I was right#Because there's a lot of Fairy Lights in that scene that are really bright like the Kart headlights#And there's a sort of Reddish/Pinkish tint to the bottom of the sky which is usually Sunset#But then you remember we're having a wedding surrounded by lava and Bowser's Castle takes a big storm cloud everywhere#So I use Mario and DK's romp through Toad Town instead as time referance#And yeah it's Noon#So that's cool actually#So it's? 4 hours Brooklyn to 24 Mushroom Kingdom? Implying the Mushroom Kingdom days ARE 24 hours long even#This is the kinda shit my Mario S/I is insane about btw like if I was in the Mario universe this would be question number 1 for sure#Sorry for the big block of text that this post became I couldn't. I couldn't think of a better way to format it#Without getting an annoying long post#Unrelated did Luigi land in the Badlands at Night or is the Badlands just constantly covered in Smog from the lava?#Because it'd be kinda cool if the Koopa Kingdom was on the opposite Time Zone as the Mushroom Kingdom#but that's just speculation at that point
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Can we, for a second, think about the fact that Hannibal dressed Will before he carried him home through the snow?
Will is naked when he's about to get the face surgery from Cordell. We see a scene of him in the operation chair where he's shirtless, lower body covered by a hospital blanket. Hannibal, who cut himself free from the ropes that were holding him captive on Muskrat farm, who then killed a large sum of Mason's staff including trained security and surgeons, saves him before Will's face gets removed. This all happens off-screen. The next scene is Hannibal carrying Will (bridal style) through the snow. In this scene Will is dressed, including a jacket for the cold and all that. Imagine Hannibal, the violent beast we saw when he killed Mason's men, blood probably still on his hands, finding Will there. Unconscious, and then dressing him. Dressing someone is a very intimate thing, especially someone unconscious. It requires care and gentleness. That, and knowing how to handle a body and loving someone enough to dress them while they don't need to be. He buttoned his buttons for him, tied his shoes, put him in a jacket to make sure he wouldn't get cold - I mean, Hannibal himself doesn't even wear a jacket in that scene. There's blood and wounds all over Hannibal's face, he's exhausted and probably the one in the most physical danger, yet he takes care of Will before he takes care of himself.
This hits even harder if you think about why they ended up in Muskrat farm in the first place. In Florence, Hannibal tried to 'eat' Will. He tried to split his head open with a bone saw. That intense violence, the grotesque and desperate nature of those actions makes a perfect and sharp contrast to him saving Will after outside forces try to take their lives, which is a heroically gentle and intimate action. He didn't have to dress him up like that, he didn't have to carry him that way, but he did. Hannibal fails to kill Will in Florence, and with that he fails his last attempt to get rid of his feelings for Will. Or at least, to make his feelings bearable. He thinks that he can control himself better when Will is dead, so he tries to kill him but he fails. Not because he's stopped, but simply because he can't do it. If Hannibal wanted him dead, Will would have been dead. Mason's men only interrupted his theatrics. They gave him a reason to put away the saw and act like it was purely their fault, but then Will is in danger at the farm and Hannibal does everything in his power to save him and get him home safe and well. At home he takes off his jacket, literally lays him in bed and tucks him in. He covers Will with a blanket, he tries to write mathematical formulas to reverse time and cleans his wounds. That's why Will's rejection when he wakes up is so tragic and hard to watch. It breaks Hannibal, unbreakable and inhuman Hannibal Lecter. It simply hurts him enough to break his heart. It breaks him enough to give up everything he ever lived for and surrender to the FBI, which he spent a lifetime running from. He does this because when he decided to save Will, he realised he would never get over the things he felt for him. In Hannibal's mind, the worst thing that can happen is never seeing Will again. He finally realised that, after everything, and that's why he surrenders to the FBI.
Hannibal honey, you don't want to eat his brain. You just wanted him to love you.
It's subtle details like this that always stick to me afterwards. It's just another thought I had and I felt like sharing.
#hannibal#nbc hannibal#thoughts#this is not supposed to become a Hannibal blog but I couldn't help posting about them again#hannigram#It's time to use the tag again!!!:#these tragic homos will be the death of me#will graham#hannibal analysis#analysis#hannibal season 3#3x07#digestivo#hannibal meta#meta
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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.
Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."
Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.
Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.
Something like this:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c035b8d8acf4fe20d299ed19f329fd73/a8f3af387adfad93-0c/s540x810/fd92ba25c5a369a2c11ec819e9200bbeaeb11f24.jpg)
We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--
--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.
But it turns out he was this:
!!!
With his curly little--!!
And his neat white--!!
IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:
"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."
(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)
In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.
In sum...an innocent.
(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.
We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.
Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)
So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--
*checks notes*
--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.
...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.
All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?
He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.
That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...
...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.
Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."
And what reason does he give?
("I know you."
"You do not know me."
"I know the angel you were.")
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
("The angel you knew is not me."
But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)
tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.
'Innocence died screaming' and all that.
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Third time's the charm
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2ac726776550ea606e0806b5ce2b8430/bfd66fdefdd67b4e-95/s540x810/388dde03e159825afdad639eeb0382d9389af3e5.jpg)
Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader Summary: During one of your movie nights with Spencer, you decide to, once again, take the lead. Or, you got cockblocked so often that you almost thought it wouldn't happen. WC: 3.1k Warnings: smut (nipple play and dry humping); reader thinks spencer might be asexual but he's just a shy puppy; they are desperate for each other; "ruined" movie night; virgin!Spencer my beloved. (I guess that's it. If I forgot something, please let me know!) A/N: Aaaand here it is! I didn't think I'd write smut so soon, hehe. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it - it's actually a sequel to Dearest friend, but can be read as a stand-alone. Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 Masterlist
"It’s nice we finally have some time for each other," you hummed in agreement. "Thanks for coming over," Spencer said.
"You don't have to thank me," you said, sitting down on his couch after placing the drinks you chose from his fridge on the coffee table. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you confessed. It got him blushing.
Spencer started one of your movies. It was your choice: you usually took turns picking out a movie to watch together whenever you had the chance, since neither of you were keen of going out that often and you didn't have much time outside of work. It was a fun opportunity to know more of each other through your personal taste, since he often chose foreign films about humanities and you, well, you made him watch Easy A, which got him talking about Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter.
After the movies, you would talk to each other about it, maybe mentioning a personal experience that you remembered thanks to a particular scene or a character's arch. Maybe you would kiss.
Which was a problem. Well, not a problem, but, you see, you didn't have much time together other than going to each other's houses and out on a few dates, which were your favorite: Spencer often found the most beautiful, cozy places to take you, like coffee shops, museums, bookshops and libraries, followed by a nice dinner at a local restaurant. It was during one of those dates that something gave him the nerve to touch your hand. Holding hands quickly escalated to having his hands around you at all times possible, and it got to the point where you nearly had to peel off of him when he got too comfortable and you sadly had to leave to do something. These moments of physical touch were making you go insane, thinking about making a bolder move on him, but you thought that maybe he wasn't ready. Plus the fact that you seemed to be interrupted whenever things got too heated.
If you had a nickel for everytime you and Spencer had to stop right before you got intimate (in any way, really), you'd have two nickels, which isn't much, but it's weird that it happened twice. It was like the universe (more like Hotch and the gore that surrounded the team) were set on a mission for you to never have sex again. Besides that, more extreme thoughts plagued your mind and told you that maybe he wasn’t attracted to you like that. It often made you go home feeling a little bit insecure.
You knew that it was better to assume, but you were only human. After some pep talk with yourself on the way to his place, you convinced yourself that you would have to have this conversation with him, sooner or later. You thought so hard about this that you even came up with the possibility that he was asexual — you were fine with it if he was, obviously, because being with him made you feel whole. Still, you wanted, you needed to get this off your chest before you exploded with assumptions and unrequited feelings. Unrequited desire.
You decided to try to be subtle. Scratching the back of his head with your nails lovingly, you both watched the movie. "What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you. You could see the goosebumps on his arm, that must have been the trigger for the question coming out of his lips. You gave him a soft smile.
"It's called affection, pretty boy," you kissed the tip of his nose. "And I don't intend on stopping anytime soon."
You kissed his left cheek when he turned to look at the TV screen.
Then, you turned his head gently to kiss the right one. He glanced between your eyes and your lips, so of fucking course you were about to kiss him, but you decided to tease him a little and pecked the tip of his nose and gently kissed his forehead instead. He breathed out a laugh. Ticklish. It made you wonder where else he would be sensitive.
Stop, you slut of a brain.
When you were about to kiss his lips, you withdrew your face from his, smooching his cheek instead. He sighed, oblivious to your real intentions, impatient and utterly, stupidly in love with you.
Oops. There goes your heart. Out the window. Taking your judgment with it.
"Spence?"
"Yes?"
"Can I do something?"
"Yes," he answered. "You know can do anything, baby."
"This is a very dangerous thing to say to a girl who has the feelings I have for you," you said, grinning. His expression morphed into one that almost looked like sheer panick.
You slowly moved to straddle his lap, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he wanted to, his legs trapped between yours. You sat yourself on the top of his thighs. He watched every movement feeling like the world stopped and there were the both of you, moving in slow motion, movie long forgotten behind you. His breath hitched when he came to his senses and noticed the position you were in, now that you've done what you had. "Is this okay? It's more comfortable than kissing you like… well, that," you laughed softly.
"Yes. I-It's perfect," he breathed out, hands finding your waist.
You lips finally met his in a kiss that had both of you sighing. You found out that Spencer was a really good kisser — and you were proud to be the one with whom he practiced kissing to perfection —, your lips easily falling into a passionate rhythm. Gasping for air, you pecked him on those perfect lips that were red and puffy from all the assaulting you were doing, but he quickly pulled you in for another, this time, sloppier than ever, encouraged by your own boldness. He was french kissing you. Fairly used to it, but not with the intensity of it, you groaned in welcomed surprise, hands finding the nape of his neck and getting a grip on them, not so gently as you normally did. You pulled his hair down, breaking the kiss, lips tingling and lungs screaming for air. He smirked, feeling smug at the state he left you in.
You rose slightly from his lap, still holding his head and looking straight into his eyes. By holding yourself slightly above him, the pendant of your necklace grazed his chin, like he had imagined many times after watching you fiddle with it. God, it was finally coming true, having you in his arms and intending to let you do whatever you wanted to him and him only, the way that it should be ever since the day you met. You nearly made him go insane, pulling you closer to his body than you ever were, acting like a desperate madman. You smiled down at him and kissed him again, more feverishly than before, trying to tell him through that kiss that you were his. Biting his lower lip and earning a fucking moan, you sat yourself down on him again. You felt his bulge against your clothed core and the light contact made you feel lightheaded.
You were so caught up on him that it almost made you forget you needed to talk to him first. Unfortunately, as you tried to catch your breath and to find the right words to speak, Spencer felt his insecurities creeping up on him. Despite knowing it would be best to talk to you, he felt like voicing it out loud would push you away from him — which he didn't want. He was very comfortable with the indecent small distance between your bodies.
He was fidgety. You knew you needed to address this because your boyfriend wasn't the best at voicing his needs — you remember and giggled internally at how you had been the one to knock on Spencer's door asking him to put an end to your suffering by telling him how you felt. Heh. Kudos to you.
"I wanted to talk about this with you," you murmured, now feeling his kisses peppering the skin of your neck. You knew how much he was hiding from you because he wouldn't stop moving and it was very distracting, but if you didn't speak, it would be the end of you. "I'd ask if you were okay with me and you like this, about taking further steps, shit." You moaned when he fucking bit you and kissed you right after.
He pulled away from you, hands flying up to the back of your head. Foreheads touching, eyes locked in yours. "I want it. I want you, I mean. Been wanting you for some time now—a very long time, yes." He strongly shut his eyes closed, most likely working up the courage to say something. "But I don't want to... disappoint you," he finished, sounding insecure.
Not on your watch.
"Me too, Spence. God, I want you so bad," you answered, unable to look away from him, who now looked down, paying close attention to the rising and falling of your chest. "Hey, look at me, please," you pleaded. His eyes met yours. Oh, those maddening eyes... "Believe me when I tell you, baby, I want you. And if you don't want to do anything, you don't have to. I won't push you, of course. I just wanted to have a conversation with you before, because setting boundaries is important and consent is hot—" he laughed quietly. Making jokes was your go-to way of making situations lighter and he was glad for it then. You smiled when you noticed the sound he made. "And I'm also positively certain that you wouldn't like to have our first time on your couch."
"My first time," he revealed. softly. Eyes not meeting yours.
Oh.
You didn’t falter. "It doesn't change much, baby. I still stand for what I just told you," you assured him, "I want you to enjoy yourself, Spence."
Looking back into your eyes, he declared, "And I want you."
"You can have me," you answered, "You already have."
"You'd need to guide me. You know, hands-on activity. Because I’ve never done it before…" he trailed off.
"Lucky for you, I'm great at teaching."
His grip finds your waist, lips anxiously waiting for yours — and when they touched to mold perfectly in another breathtaking kiss, he felt complete. Like nothing bad could ever happen in the world just because you were in it. His past, his insecurities, the awful things you both saw on the field, nothing mattered. Looking at you, touching you, was a nearly an out of body experience. The things you got him thinking by just kissing him. And he thought his insecurities would get the best of him. Jokes on them, you exist.
You look at him through hooded eyes. "I've never felt like this before. I feel... tingly," he confessed, lovely smile on his face, eyes blinking.
"You're feeling good, handsome," you answered, glancing at his dazed eyes.
A beat of silence. Swallowing second thoughts. "Can you make it better?"
"Is that a request or a challenge?" You asked, grinning.
"A request." He answered shyly, hiding his face on your neck, peppering kisses on your skin. You were going to explode.
"Oh, don't talk to me like that," you shivered, feeling absolutely lost, "I might spoil you and give you everything you want," you sighed.
"Let me have it, then," he answered, voice muffled by your skin.
"I'm all yours, Spencer."
He had the audacity of blushing as his fingers played with the hem of your shirt. You smiled at him. In this state, if he asked for you to run naked around town, you probably would. It was dangerous, to say the least. Softly, yet desperate, the words left his lips. "Can I take this off?" He sucked in a breath. "Please?"
"Yes, pretty boy, you can," you answered. "You can have anything. I thought I already said that."
"Yes—You did. You did," he breathed out between needy kisses across your skin, getting rid of your shirt in no time.
At first, he was mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He hadn't seen many naked (or semi-naked) women in front of him, but you were something out of this world. The bra you were wearing matched your skin tone and pushed your breasts together and there was the fucking necklace, almost mocking him by being constantly so close, too close to the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. The view was almost overwhelming by itself. You looked at him, but he couldn't possibly come up with the words that would describe you in that moment. Words had failed him, nothing else in his mind but you. The tool he used to communicate, to access the world and how it shaped reality, to comprehend the mind of another person, to get to know others... He had nothing left. Except from the pulsing of his boner against your clothed pussy, that is.
Just like that, IQ of 187 slashed to 60, Emily Prentiss said, once. Funnily enough, when you passed by wearing a sundress.
Unable to talk but, oh, so able to use his hands, they traveled up to your breasts with a featherlight touch, which didn't stop him from feeling your heartbeat. He let his hands trail over the soft and sheer fabric of the bra you were wearing. Finding your nipples, his touch got more intense. He licked his lips. His actions made you shudder and sent a spark of excitement to your sex. "Pretty," he said. "So, so pretty, my girl."
"Do you like it?" You asked, breathless from a little touching. Pathetic. "I got these thinking of you. Wanna look pretty for you, Spence."
"You are," he said, looking into your eyes, his own foggy, hands reaching to touch your neck. "You're pretty all the time, it's so unfair to me," he murmured. "I really like them on you, but… can I take ‘em off?"
"Yes. You can do anything, Spence."
Spencer wanted to burn the sight of you, in that slightly disheveled state, in the back of his mind so he could remember it forever — not that he would have a hard time trying to remember anything. Nevertheless, he did everything so slowly, almost as if trying to tattoo on the tip of his fingers the softness and temperature of your skin. He inhaled deeply, consumed by your floral-scented perfume and lifted his hands to unclasp your bra. His fingers curiously, but unhurriedly, lowered each of the straps. Like opening a gift that had been so carefully wrapped he didn't want to ruin.
But did he wanted to be ruined by you.
The sight of your bare chest was marvelous, to say the least, and he timidly grazed his fingertips against the exposed area, eliciting goosebumps and a soft whine. His mouth watered, thoughts simply reduced to the need of having you in his mouth. The striped pattern on the soft skin of your breasts around your nipples were faint, barely there, unless if you took a close look at it. It goes without saying that he was blatantly gazing at your bosom at this point.
Pupils dilated, he looked up at you, hungrily, drawing his face closer to you, curls tickling the skin of your collarbone. He inhaled your scent, mind blanking. Tortuously dragging his lips on your skin (and unintentionally smearing some of his saliva on you, he was drooling, after all) as a silent request, the necklace brushing his forehead slightly. The grind of your hips against his answered his plead to taste you.
"Oh—you're so, so good to me, princess," you moaned when he finally wrapped his lips against the nub, playing with the other.
You felt almost overwhelmed with the attention you were getting and the reaction you were having to said attention. Your underwear was sticking almost uncomfortably against your core and you felt yourself aching for some relief, aching for him. So, as Spencer worked his hot tongue on your tits, licking, softly biting, sucking, making a mess on and of you, you busied yourself by chasing the relief you both desperately wanted. The solace it provided you both with was exhilarating and made you feel dazed.
Steadily rocking yourself against him, you earned a few grunts. "You're making a mess of me, pretty boy," you murmured as he switched his attention to the other boob.
"Give it t'me—I want it, I deserve it," he breathed out, body aching with lust, cock pulsing against your covered clit. His words only fueled the fire inside you, the coil in your lower stomach threatening to snap at anytime now.
"Yeah, you do, my boy," you breathed out, pulling the hair on the nape of his neck, nearly tasting your orgasm, "gonna look so pretty when you come for me, won't you, baby?" Both hands gripping your hips, mouth never leaving your skin. You sure would be bruised by tomorrow, but this, this was definitely worth it.
"Yes—Yes, I will," He whined. He fucking whined.
"Tell, me—ah—where do you want to cum, baby?"
"Shit—" until then, you were sure that was a word you'd never hear him saying, let alone that freely. "Gonna—Shitshitshit," moaning out your name.
That's when it hit you that he had cummed his pants. It was such a fat load that it had seeped through both his underwear and his slacks — which prompted you to reach your own high with a moan of his name directly into his ear.
Both of you feeling dizzy, you slump against him, feeling his arms wrapping your frame as you rested your head on his shoulder. You both took deep breaths, the only sound in the room. Well, besides the movie you both totally ignored.
"I can't get up right now... My legs feel wobbly," you chuckled. "Are you okay, Spence?" You asked, looking at him when you didn't get an answer.
"Yeah, 'm fine," he answered, "I mean, I'll be fine as soon as I recover from you."
You laughed sincerely, "From me? What have I done to you?"
"You gave me what I wanted, you spoiled me, you broke me," he said, a silly smile adorning his pretty face. You pushed him playfully. "I can't even explain what I'm feeling right now. My brain has stopped working ever since you straddled me. Are you trying to kill me?"
"No, babe."
"Wrong answer. You're so gonna keep doing that to me, so you'll definitely be trying to killing me from now on." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#cm fanfic#spencer reid x you
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hello! if you have the time could you please write soft Eddie guiding a shy reader when they make out for the first time?
part two
There's a knock on Eddie's door and he hurries to answer it, hoping it's who he thinks it is. He isn't expecting anyone else, but it's not uncommon for people to show up looking to buy from him, but he really hopes it's you. He's been looking forward to tonight for over a week since you suggested it. He opens the door and there you are, beautiful as ever.
He steps aside and you plant a soft kiss on his cheek as you enter the trailer. You hold out a DVD and a few of Eddie's favorite snacks and he can't help but smile at how sweet you are. You've only been on a few dates and hopes he wouldn't scare you off if he proposed. Because if he's being honest, he can't see himself with anyone else.
No one he's dated has ever been so sweet to him. All they seemed to be interested in was using him for his body and rarely anything else. He wasn't really known as Eddie "the freak" Munson (well, maybe in other ways) anymore, but it still seemed like people didn't want anything else from him besides drugs or sex.
But you? All you seem to want from him is his company, genuinely interested in all of his fun facts that he has about random subjects and you even laugh at his jokes. And they aren't pity laughs either. You're a breath of fresh air and he hopes you'll stick around forever.
"You didn't have to do all this," he tells you with a smile as he takes the stuff from you. You're staring down at the floor and he can tell you're getting shy on him again. He doesn't mind, though. He thinks it's cute.
"Of course I did," you insist. "I wanted to treat you for once," you then smile and Eddie never gets tired of seeing it.
"Well I'm not going to say no to that," he responds then takes you by the hand, threading his fingers through yours. "Now c'mon."
You follow him over to the couch and the two of you sit together, but you make sure to leave a little space to be polite. You want to be cuddled up into his side, though. You want rest your head on his chest as his hand lazily runs up and down your back.
A lot of the people you've out with all seemed to be after one thing so it warms your heart that Eddie is willing to go at your pace. He always waits for you to initiate things like hugs or kisses and waits until you pull away, never asking for more. He's nothing but a gentleman and you really like spending time with him.
Eddie spreads out all of the movies you brought, his eyebrows quirking at the variety. You seem to have an eclectic taste and he admires that. He plucks the horror movie from the selection and heads over to the VCR. As soon as his back is turned, you begin to panic. You had only brought the movie to give you excuse to get close to him because of the scary scenes, but now you're beginning to regret your decision.
Eddie turns back to you and you try to hide your fear, debating on telling him that you'd rather watch something else, but you can't yourself to form the words. So you just sit in silence as Eddie moves back over to the couch, sitting even closer to you now and your fear takes over as you throw yourself into his arms.
Eddie lets out a laugh at your eagerness but he wraps his arms around you anyway, pulling you even closer to him as he turns his head towards the screen. You instantly feel better knowing that he'll keep you safe but can't help but think about what Steve told you when he rented the movie out to you.
He told you that it was the scariest movie he'd ever seen and that he couldn't sleep for days afterwards. And you rented it anyway even though he had suggested many more options that weren't nearly as scary and would still help you get into Eddie's arms despite how silly he thought the idea was.
The movie hasn't even started and you're already burying your head into his chest, gripping his shirt in your fists as tight as possible. His hand moves up to stroke the back of your head as he murmurs something to you that you can't quite hear.
"Hey, hey," he says as grabs hold of your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. His are nothing but soft as they look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," you shake your head, suddenly feeling silly for how scared you just were. "It's nothing."
"We don't have to watch the movie," he tells you. "If you were scared, why didn't you say something?" It's a fair question, but you stay silent, not wanting to tell him the truth.
"I-" you start to say but cut yourself off, not wanting to admit the truth nor finding the right words to use.
"You what, honey?" He asks, his hands moving up and down your back exactly the way you wanted him to. Sometimes you're convinced he's a mind reader.
"I just wanted an excuse to cuddle you," you tell him, your voice so soft he almost didn't hear you. And at that, Eddie lets out a laugh before pulling you to his chest, giving you a tight squeeze. You have to remind yourself that he's not laughing at you, but because of you.
"You could have just cuddled me," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world and it is. Well, it should be, but you've always found it hard to voice what you want no matter how badly you want it.
"How about we call off the movie for now?" He asks and turns off the TV then pulls you closer to him, his hands still moving up and down your back. You look up at him as he licks his lips, now unable to think about anything but how inviting they look.
The two of you have kissed multiple times, but it's never gone any farther than little pecks here and there because you've been too afraid to do any more than that. But now you feel the need to go all the way, wondering what he tastes like, if his hair is as soft as it looks.
But you've never made out with anyone and that scares you. Even though you know for sure that Eddie would talk you through it, the whole thing still makes you feel nervous. But apparently not nervous to forget it completely because before you can stop yourself, you're looking up at Eddie, gulping before getting his attention.
"Eddie?" You ask and his head turns to you, those honey eyes boring into yours. You melt under his gaze but trying to muster up the confidence again.
"Hm?" He asks, that stupid smirk making its way upon his face, the same one that's always there when he looks at you.
"Can-" you cut yourself off for the second time tonight but Eddie just sits there, patient as ever as he waits for you to speak. He knows how hard it can get sometimes for you to speak your mind so he doesn't mind waiting for you to finish your thoughts. "Can I have a kiss?"
"Of course you can," he responds, taking your face in his hands and pecking your lips once, twice, three times before pulling away only for you to grumble in response.
"No," you shake your head. "I want a real kiss."
"Oh," he replies, wondering what made you decide on that, but wanting to oblige. He's willing to give you whatever you ask.
His hands move down to neck, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across your jaw as he leans in again, his lips slowly capturing yours as they move together slowly. He's nothing but gentle as he kisses you, showing you how it's done.
Your hands press against his chest and all you can think about how you can't believe you've gone so long without his lips attached to yours. They're nothing but soft and gentle and now you're sure that you can do this for hours.
Eddie breaks away before you're ready and you're breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. He stares down, a chuckle falling from his lips as he presses his forehead to yours.
"You're supposed breathe, baby," he tells you softly and you feel your cheeks heat.
"Can we try that again?" You ask as you pick up one of his curls, twirling it around your pointer finger, staring down at it as you speak again. "Do you think we could...make out? I promise to breathe this time."
"Oh, honey," he sighs before pressing a kiss to you lips. "I'd love to make out with you." Another and another until he's capturing your lips again, taking the lead again. You have no idea what you're doing but Eddie is being nothing but a sweetheart as he guides you through it.
He pulls away again and you whine this time at the absence of his lips, chasing him and getting in another quick kiss before you sit back, waiting for him.
"Do you want to sit in my lap?" He suggests. "I think that'll be more comfortable for you."
Eddie sits with his back against the couch and you do as he suggests and straddle his waist which feels foreign to you but he's right. It's much more comfortable. Your arms wrap around his neck as his rest on the small of your back, a good spot between your waist and upper back because this is just kissing and he doesn't want to give you the impression that he's going to go any farther.
"You kiss me now," he says and your heart races in your chest as you think about fucking it all up.
"Are you sure?" You ask, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it as you contemplate.
"Positive," he nods. "You've got this. Do whatever you want, baby. This is all about you."
"Okay," you nod, leaning forward and slotting your lips just like he did, Eddie immediately responding to you but he's moving at your pace instead of leading like he previously had.
You remember to breath through your nose as your fingers thread into his hair on each side of his head. His hair is normally off limits because people get too rough with it, but with you, he doesn't care. In fact, he loves when you play with his hair, a little bit of love sprinkles into every touch of it.
"You're doing so good, honey," he murmurs against your lips. "Do you want to try sticking your tongue in my mouth?"
"Please," you whine with a yank of his hair and if you can feel his cock hardening underneath you, you don't say anything. And thank god for that.
"Do you want me to show you first?"
"Yes," you breath against his lips and he's getting even more hard, knowing that he's going to have to get himself off later because there's no way he's going to expect you to go all the way right now.
Eddie captures your lips again as his hands rest against your waist, landing on the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up. His lips are moving against you to warm you up and then he gingerly flicks his tongue against your bottom lip.
"Open up," he commands against your lips and you do as he says, opening up for him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. He swirls his tongue around yours and you mimic his actions, tugging on his hair as a moan falls from your lips at the feeling of his tongue moving with yours.
Your eyes widen and you can't help but pull away as you suddenly feel embarrassed at the sound you've just made. Eddie, though? Eddie's convinced that's the hottest thing he's ever heard and he really wants you to make it again.
"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says quickly, trying his best to assure you. "It was really hot, actually."
"It was?"
"Definitely," he nods. "Would it help if you made me moan too?" All you can do is nod and before he can say anything else, your lips are on his, only a few seconds passing before your tongue is flicking against his bottom lip. He opens up immediately and you mimic what he just showed you, your tongue swirling around his as you pulling on his hair even harder, a loud moan falling from his lips.
You haven't thought about it until now since you were so caught up in his kisses, but you're soaking wet between your legs and if you had more confidence, you'd ask Eddie to take care of you, but you don't so you don't. You don't think you're ready for that right now anyway.
You try to focus on the taste of him to get your mind off of it. He tastes like cigarettes that you know he smoked before you came over and you don't know why but you can't get enough of it. It's intoxicating.
You stay like that for a while until your lips are kiss bitten and your legs are asleep from you straddling him for too long. You both decide to call it a night and Eddie walks you to your car like the gentleman he is, kissing you one more time before you drive away. He then goes back inside and heads to his room where he collapses onto his bed, deciding that he's probably (definitely) in love with you.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#soft!eddie#soft!eddie x shy!reader#shy!reader#eddie munson x shy!reader
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