#s4 baby food

[balkanikabg]

Margarita & Slush Machine

Description:

Margarita & Slush Machine is a small appliance that can be used to make different types of alcoholic and non-alcoholic cold drinks.

It can be found in buy mode under "Appliances -> Small  appliances". It costs 300$, and it comes in 5 different colors.

When you press on the object you'll see an option to make a cup or multiple. Each option will open a selection menu and you can choose from 10 different types of slushies and 12 different types of margaritas.

More images and download link under the cut:

DOWNLOAD (Early Access)

Public Access: 28th of June, 2024

@maxismatchccworld @sssvitlanz

[myxdollyt]

Proud Family Decor

Heeeeeeeyyyyyy Y'all ♡

Back with another collection! This time, I decided to make some Proud Family Decor ♡

I loved this show growing up, so it meant so much to be able to make it for my favorite game❤️ it's definitely a party theme.

I hope you guys enjoy it😉

Meshes all made by me 💯

♡ All photos were created by using Canva ♡

Only for decor purposes.

⚠️ Do NOT under any circumstances use my art work for any Etsy party promotions. If you are inspired by my work, credit me and ask me before using my art work.

All LODS are the same

•Do not claim it as yours

•Do not edit the mesh nor recolor

•Do not put behind paywalls

Give credit to me and link cc back to my Patreon MyxDollYT

Eary Access, Public Release Jan 1.

Download Here ♡

[flashbcaks]

Slightly out-of-context Memes for my WWDITS Discord Server, Part 3/?

[allertononfilm]

unbridled love - rafe cameron

chapter 1

summary: You end up taking a trip out to OBX to attend your estranged brother, John B's, wedding. You also happen to meet someone while you're there that you just can't seem to shake. (post-s3, if s4 didn't happen—all canon same except rafe & sarah get back in touch sooner … and no sofia technically lol).

content warnings: john b's sister!reader, original afab!reader, obx!universe, use of petnames (sweetheart, baby), kissing, 18+ MDNI - smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of being under the influence/consumption of alcohol, totally unrealistic love at first sight plot lol, a little mix of angst and fluff for valentines day 🥰🥰🥰

length: 3.2k words

As excited as you were to be present to witness this milestone, you were nervous above anything else. You and John B had never been particularly close, the circumstances in which you'd met your half-brother not the most conventional either, but when has anything in your life been?

He'd reached out a couple of years ago, not having known he even existed prior to that point. The younger boy had been riddled with panic because your shared father had gone missing while on some sort of work excursion. That was the only other time you'd been in the Outer Banks.

You'd stayed with him for a few weeks, trying to get to know him and help him get some sort of balance in his life. The two of you finding out you weren't very alike despite being siblings, which ultimately resulted in you deciding to return home and letting him handle it all himself.

You only heard from him again months later, offering you an apology and an unbelievable story about his wild adventure looking for the same treasure that had once consumed your father. Having kept a distant but amicable relationship with him since then, which is why you were back on the island.

"I'm so glad you made it!" Sarah cheered as she ran up and engulfed you with a hug, your brother not far behind as you stepped off the ferry. "Now the wedding can officially start."

"I take it that you guys are ready for this?" You gush as they led you to the truck.

"Absolutely." Sarah proclaims, turning to your brother with a bright smile.

"Never been more sure about anything in my life." John B adds without delay, taking his bride-to-be's hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

As they drove you to your hotel, you watched the scenery pass through the window, becoming familiar with the small town once again. Catching up with the couple over mundane life stories, Sarah eventually changing the subject to gossip with you about final arrangements.

"I'm sure you're exhausted from travelling all day, and the weekend is pretty jam-packed, so we'll drop you off and let you chill tonight." Sarah explains. "Tomorrow, we're having a barbecue at the new Chateau for the wedding party, and then the rehearsal later on."

"Sounds good." you affirm, trying to absorb all the new information. "Is there anywhere around here for me to grab dinner?"

"The Wreck's nearby," John B suggests. "Kiara's parents own it. Food's pretty good."

"Did you want us to pick you up tomorrow morning?" Sarah extends graciously.

"I'm sure you have enough running around to do with final touches. I'll figure it out," you reassure them as they pulled up to an elegant hotel.

You thanked them again for picking you up from the dock, the couple helping you get your luggage from the van before finally bidding you goodbye and driving back off. Leaving you to enter the swanky lobby of one of the nicest resorts in Figure 8.

This was one of the things you didn't meet eye-to-eye with your brother on—having grown up in a much different tax bracket than he had. It was nothing close to the extravagance of the crowd that lived here, but the middle class was a life of luxury compared to what he experienced in The Cut.

By the time you'd checked in and gotten settled in your suite, you were starving. Looking up the place they'd told you about and deciding to walk over since it wasn't longer than a fifteen-minute journey. The trip there being much different than when you'd go to the bars at home, passing vast forests and being surrounded by the sounds of nature instead of honking horns.

The restaurant was bustling when you arrived, locals scattered around the beloved establishment as they kicked off their weekends. Spotting the bubbly brunette right as you wandered inside, assuming she was on the clock from the creased apron tied around her waist.

"Hey!" Kiara beamed as she came over, instantly recognizing you. "So good to see you! When did you get in?"

"A few hours ago."

"Came for a bite?" she correctly assumed. "Did you want a table, or did you just wanna sit at the bar? It's a lot less crowded over there."

"Whatever's easier for you guys," you tell her, blindly following as she took you into the busy area.

You sat at a long counter with rows of liquor bottles displayed behind it, assessing the array of options, impressed at the selection since it wasn't the busiest of towns. A bartender came to take your order, opting for a gin and tonic. When they brought it to you, however, a filled shot glass was also set alongside it.

"Oh, I didn't get this," you inform the employee.

"It's from him," they reply, nodding their head towards whoever they'd been referring to.

You prepared yourself to be confronted by some creepy old dude or dopey hick that you knew you'd need to outwardly turn down, but that wasn't how the culprit looked at all. If anything, there was a subtle familiarity about him even though you couldn't recall meeting him during your last visit. 

He was incredibly handsome and clearly ripped, despite the fact his arms were mostly hidden by the rolled up sleeves on his button-up shirt. Your brother had mentioned the deep-seated politics of the island—the distinct class divide—but there was no questioning that this guy was well-off. His style was preppy and clean, hair buzzed down and accentuating his sharp features even more.

Sending you a devilish smirk as he raised a shot identical to the one he sent to you like an indirect greeting, tossing it back with ease and swiftly meeting your gaze again. Immediately picking up that he had an edge to him, not missing how the other patrons had been giving him apprehensive looks as they passed by.

Your indifference didn't seem to discourage him at all as he sauntered your way about ten minutes later, his strong musk and overall presence hitting your senses and providing a different kind of intoxication. Not anticipating for him to tower over you like he did because of his large stature.

"Hey," he establishes, his voice more gruff than you'd expected. "You aren't from around here, are you?"

"Is it that obvious?" you quip back.

"Just know I would've remembered such a pretty face." He banters, scoffing at his cliché line even though it totally made you blush. "You here on vacation?"

"Something like that." You shrug, not wanting to expose too much to the unknown man, no matter how attractive he was.

"Yeah?" he notes curiously, taking a swig from his old fashioned. "Business or pleasure?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" You avert, taking a sip from your own beverage, not having touched his initial offer yet.

"That is why I asked," he asserts, not making his interest in you a secret. "The least you could do is answer that for me. I did send over that shot."

"That I never asked you for, by the way." You flip back onto him, a little amused by his shameless flirting.

"Is it a crime to buy a beautiful girl a drink?" He grills, bringing his glass back to his lips, inadvertently glancing at them. Realizing he'd caught you when his cheeky grin grew even more. "Just trying to show some Southern hospitality, since you're from out of town and all."

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you finally took the small glass in your hand. Giving him one last pointed look as you knocked the tequila down your throat, feeling the alcohol burn through your body. You rested your elbows on the table, propping your face in your hands as you examined the cute stranger keeping you company.

"You're welcome," he teases lightly, inherently leaning closer.

His thumb brushed your bottom lip, wiping off a drop that hadn't reached your mouth. A faint tingling erupting where his finger had barely caressed you. Popping it between his lips and sucking it suggestively, a dangerous glint sparkling in his gaze.

You were grateful when the server interrupted you, abruptly diverting the conversation and giving you the opportunity to order dinner like you'd originally gone there to do. You had no idea where this guy came from and why he was so infatuated with you, but you couldn't deny that you liked his unwavering attention. Even with his constant provoking.

"Two more, please," he sneaks in right at the last second, not letting you get any input.

This time, when the shots showed up, you decided not to stall. Rafe tapping his cup against yours before simultaneously tossing them back. The effects from your liquid courage giving you a surge of confidence in handling his magnetic charm.

"Got any more plans tonight?" He interrogates, still not letting up on his pursuit.

"If I tell you, will you leave me alone?" You retort smartly.

"I doubt it." He remarks. Taking the opportunity to steal a french fry off your plate, tossing it in his mouth. "As a matter of fact, I have a feeling I might end up being involved."

"Oh yeah? Cocky much?" You sneer.

"You don't seem to mind," he observes, revealing you might not have been acting as sly as you thought. "Let me take you home," he deadpans out of seemingly nowhere. 

"Do you really think I'm just gonna leave the bar with a stranger in some random town I'm passing through?"

"Fine. I'm Rafe," he introduces smoothly. "Now we aren't strangers."

"Is this what you consider Southern hospitality?" you reference back to his earlier comment, getting a hearty laugh in return.

"Only the best, sweetheart," he persisted. "What do you say? It's getting late."

You pushed the remnants of your food around the plate as you contemplated your next move. On one hand, it's not like you'd never had a one-night stand, having dealt with your fair share of doting admirers. There was just something about this guy that you couldn't ignore, and you weren't sure if it was a good or bad thing.

"Just for, like, a drink or something..." you concede begrudgingly.

"Yeah. For sure." he concurs, not hiding the pride in his expression.

He took you back to his place at his insistence, boasting about how he resided at one of the biggest properties on the island, something he was not shy about showing off. The previously chatty man letting a thick silence fall between you after that, making you grateful that the drive wasn't too lengthy. 

You lounged on the passenger side of his Range Rover as he raced through the unfamiliar neighbourhoods. One of his hands clutching the top of his steering wheel with his other arm stretched across the back of your seat, his thumb brushing against your shoulder every so often.

And even with his exaggerated description of the house, that was still an understatement. Turning onto the long path, a huge manor sat at the top, surrounded by extensive acres of land. The car rolling up the steep hill and taking up the otherwise empty driveway. 

You hadn't expected him to jog to your side of the vehicle and open your door for you, his hand finding your lower back as he led you towards the home. Taking you inside and into the equally impressive kitchen, the counter in the middle of the room finally giving you some space from all his poking and proding. 

"How the hell did you score this place?" you investigate as he grabbed two glasses and a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue, unable to hide your absolute awe for the lavish home.

"Uh... It was my dad's." he indicates somberly. "He left it to me when he died." he clarifies, tearing his focus from you for the first time that evening as he poured the whiskey.

"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry for asking." you apologize, although he didn't look particularly upset.

"Don't worry about it," he dismisses, feeling a discomfort rise as he poured out the gold-coloured liquid.

"Mine did too..." you disclose, not knowing how else to respond. "But we weren't super close."

"I get it." he acknowledges. "Didn't have the best relationship with mine."

"The house is a pretty sweet consolation," you ramble on. "And you live here, all by yourself?"

"Yeah..." he trails off, passing one of the half-filled cups to you.

His focus fell to the amber spirit, swirling it around as he contemplated how to proceed with your encounter. Sensing a palpable shift in his attitude after that. Not wanting to create any more awkward tension, you lifted the beverage in the air. Rafe following suit and clinking his against yours in ritual.

"To shitty, dead dads," you toast earnestly as Rafe brought the drink to his lips, choking slightly upon hearing your declaration. Noticing a sheepish grin appear through the crystal pattern on the glass as he went for another swig.

"So, what's your deal." he surveys, purposely changing the subject. 

"You really don't stop, huh?"

"Just making conversation. Unless you just wanted to get right down to it," he taunts.

"Is that how it usually goes for you?" you quiz.

"What do you think?" He throws back to you, not being subtle as his eyes dragged themselves down your body.

"I don't think I need to inflate your ego even more than it already is."

"You're acting like you don't want this as much as I do. You did agree to come back here with me, you know," he reminds playfully, raising his brow at you in challenge.

He topped up both of your cups, sauntering around the countertop so he was standing beside you again. Taking a piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face and placing it behind your ear. An obvious move but still making your stomach flutter with butterflies.

You were already pretty tipsy leaving the restaurant, but the strong liquor quickly pushed you into drunk territory. Knowing your clouded mindset was due to all the alcohol but inwardly recognizing Rafe's effect on you wasn't just physical. Your head spinning just from the way he was staring at you.

"What?" you press, feeling vulnerable under his scrutiny. A bashful smile settling on Rafe's lips as he shook his head.

"I don't know... There's just something about you."

"Really, Rafe?" You sass, giggling at the vagueness of words. "How many girls have you used that line on?"

"You'd think more, but..." he falters, his brows furrowing in concentration. "Seriously, I have no idea. There's just something different about you."

He kept his hand on your chin, cradling your face upwards and cutting right to the chase. His other hand going to your waist, rubbing circles over the fabric of your shirt. His warm breath mixing with yours the closer he got, literally dangling what you wanted directly in front of you.

"Is this okay?" he whispered right as his lips ghosted yours, as if he was feeding you the question. Looking up at him wide-eyed, nodding because you couldn't form an answer at that point.

The kiss was initially slow and sensual, the two of you savoring the moment. A rush of heat passing through your body as he embraced you with a mix of caution and raw passion. Letting him maneuver you through the halls without breaking away from your kiss, both of you giggling drunkenly with every stumble or misstep.

He pinned you up against the wall, one of your legs instinctively lifting and wrapping itself around him. Leaning back on the hard surface for some sort of balance, your earlier skepticism having disappeared and turned into total hunger. Tasting the mix of booze on his tongue as he slipped it into your mouth, Rafe swallowing every moan that escaped you.

"Jump," he instructs hoarsely, catching you without difficulty and carrying you up the grand staircase.

Once you hit his bedroom, all bets were off. Nudging him to lie back on his mattress, you straddled his waist as you continued making out. His hands grabbing your ass and prompting you to grind against him. Realizing in that moment that as easily as he'd gotten you to agree to come back here with him, he was unraveling twice as quick under your regard.

You gave him one last kiss, roaming further down his body, mirroring each other's fierce demeanor. Your fingers went to his waistband, removing his belt and undoing his pants, palming him over the fabric. Removing them with his boxers, you spat in your hand and started stroking him.

"Fuck," he groaned, mesmerized just at the sight of you.

You bent slightly forward, pouting your lips and dragging his glistening head against them, coating them with his precum. Finally taking him into your mouth and swirling your tongue around him. You hollowed out your cheeks to fit as much of him as you could, gagging lightly when he hit the back of your throat.

While you took your time getting used to his size, he wasn't as patient. Threading his fingers through your hair to gently guide you back and forth, craving some kind of relief. Grasping whatever you couldn't fit, letting him determine your rhythm. Your jaw feeling sore at his needy movements.

"Just like that, baby," he mutters, completely mesmerized by your skills.

You bobbed your head at his faint urging, his grip on your hair tightening as you swallowed around him. Pulling back to give yourself some air, focusing on his tip and spreading your saliva along his shaft. Watching his feral reactions through your lashes, unknowingly pushing him even more.

He started thrusting again when you could tell he was getting closer to his peak, his motions becoming frantic and desperate. With a few more pumps, his cum coated your throat, his head falling back as he reveled in the sensation. Looking absolutely blissed out as he rode out his high, brushing his fingers down the back of your head as you both caught your breath.

And it just picked up from there. It was explosive and fast and hot, neither of you making your desires a secret throughout the night. Rafe claiming dominance over you as if you'd known each other for years, picking up on your ticks and locating all your sweet spots without difficulty. Worshipping you and your body like it was the most magnificent thing he'd ever encountered.

You wanted to blame it on your intoxication, how enamored you felt over a man you'd only met hours ago and barely even spoke to properly. Boiling it down to pure lust, fundamentally knowing this was a one-time thing and that assuming otherwise was unrealistic.

When you finally heard his breathing still, indicating he'd fallen asleep, you decided to make your exit before you could be caught. Not wanting to deal with the post-hookup routine in the morning, especially when you'd have to spend the day with your brother, his fiancée, and their rowdy group of friends.

You knew the island wasn't huge, remembering how your brother was able to greet almost every person he'd pass by their first name. But you couldn't have guessed the predicament you'd just managed to accidentally get yourself into.

note: ahh i went so back and forth over actually posting this… love the concept but not super excited over what i actually wrote?? let me know if you guys like this, i probably will post the whole thing (it’s 4 parts!) just to get it all out lol but apologies in advance if there’s a bit of a delay 🙈 hope you guys like it!! always appreciate your support & msgs!! 💞💞

[urhoneycombwitch]

my baby puts his mouth on me

Eddie Munson x shy!Reader

foreword: okay this is kind of written as a bonus scene for i know what they call you bc that version of reader deals with being quiet, too! (not necessary to read that one first but does provide a bit of context as far as interpersonal setting.) sort-of AU that ignores most s4 events.

cw: discussions of college, shy!reader, oral + fingering (R receiving), R has breasts and a V, weed usage, softdom!Eddie, shifting POV a bit soz 

wc: 2.2k

___

Somewhere between Eddie’s late nights at band rehearsal and your early morning diner shifts, you’ve both been too exhausted to properly fuck when you do see each other, barely time for a spare handjob in the past week. You’re crawling out of your skin by the weekend, missing and craving Eddie in equal measure.

So when your Saturday off happens to line up with his, Eddie makes an afternoon of it- picnic lunch on the shore of Lover’s Lake, lazing around in the August sun while your food settles, then stripping down to your underclothes (even though the spot Eddie scored was totally isolated, you’re still leery about skinny dipping) and cooling off with a quick dip in the lake.

You’re both sprawled out in the blanketed back of Eddie’s van, sun-warmed bodies pressed together, legs dangling out of the open rear door; smoke hangs hazy in the air from the joint being shared. 

“Almost end of summer,” Eddie says, nestling his nose into your neck, arms wrapping around your middle. He can’t look at you, dread unfurling in his stomach but needing to ask, to clear the air, to prepare in case this is one of the last times he gets to touch you like this- “Thinkin’ of going to any colleges?”

”Maybe.” One of your hands slides into Eddie’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp while the other lifts the joint to your lips for a long drag. “They love me at the diner and I make good tips, so I’ll prob’ly keep doing that. Can’t afford anything fancy, anyways- I’ll likely just go to Hawkins Community.”

You still haven’t told him the full story of the mall fire, yet- or about the underground world simmering beneath the surface. He never pushes you to share more than you’re comfortable, which you’re grateful for, but he knows something happened: something that paints your sleep with dark night terrors, something that causes you to slip in the middle of conversations, mind spiraling where he can’t follow. 

For reasons you can’t fully explain to Eddie, college is real low on your priority list- you’ve dedicated this summer to reconnecting with base instincts (weed and Pretty Boy being at the top of the list).

Meanwhile, Eddie tries to still the vibrant thrum of his heart at the news of you staying local, possibly for the next few years; he lifts his head to press his lips against your collarbone. “You should go to college. Jus’ try it out, at least. You’re certainly smart enough.”

“Mmm-” you hum around the joint, another inhale-exhale of smoke before murmuring, “So are you. For the record. We could apply to be nerds together, if you want-”

With a sharp gasp, your sentence drops out of midair when Eddie kisses over your nipple, already peaking through the thin material of your bra. In his hair, your grip tightens, and Eddie groans.

In one fluid movement, he props himself into his elbows on either side of your torso, bottom half of his weight pinning you in place, plucking the smoldering joint from your grasp to dampen it into a nearby ashtray.

“Gonna be my little student,” Eddie says, wet kisses trailing down your neck, flash of teeth making you squirm. “Get you some academic… skirts. The ones with the pleats. Maybe some stockings…”

“You’re so- oh, fuck- dirty…” It’s hard to keep the admonishment in your voice as Eddie noses between your thighs, bumping at your clit through the thin cover of high-cut cotton.

“Mm-hmm.” He seems pleased with the already-visible wet patch, your core leaking steadily as he burrows deeper, until all his senses are blacked-out with nothing but the sharp tang of your honeyed arousal- who needs weed. He could get high off your smell alone.

Eddie suckles at your throbbing clit, purring encouragement low in his throat when your hips jolt forward. “And you love it."

He’s one deep inhale from being completely pussy-drunk, mouthing sloppily at the junction where thigh meets pelvis, nimble fingers toying at the band of your underwear. He slides them down and off your legs, and you let him, wiggling in anticipation against the pressure he’s keeping you pinned with.

“Could take an electrician course.” Well aware of how close to the wire this conversation is sliding, you let the crown of your head tip back, staring at the van’s ceiling, handfuls of the flannel floor blanket squeezed into fists as you try getting one last word in- “You’re good with your h- hands.”

Said hand is cupping your bare sex, warm and wide between the V of your legs, other hand pushing your thigh back to spread you wide, obscene and on display how Eddie likes; embarrassment blooms hot in your chest as he runs a finger through your folds, slick practically loud against the far-off backdrop of forest sounds.

“What was that about my hands?” He’s teasing now, can hear it in his voice even though you can’t see the lazy grin it’s paired with; a long middle finger breaches your entrance, wet warmth swallowing the length greedily.

Your eyes flutter shut, sighing. There will be a time for arguments again but right now, with a second finger addition and Eddie’s mouth working you up, there’s no room for speech.

On your end, at least- Eddie’s proven on multiple occasions to be a master at multitasking, talking you through it while managing your pleasure, and this afternoon is no exception. His fingers curl expertly into the gummy front wall of your cunt, mouth running every second it’s not latched on to your pulsing button, dirty talk smooth and easy in his low timbre.

“Yeah, honey, that’s it. Fuck, you’re so hot. Can feel you squeezin’ around my fingers, y’so tight, angel, shit… like that- there you go…”

Etcetera. Until he’s bullied his way completely into the cradle of your legs, lying flat on his stomach to get as close as possible; until your cunt is spasming around the push and pull of his fingers, wet dripping and pooling into his palm and down your ass to the blanket below.

There’s a familiar tightness coiling in your stomach, thighs bracing around Eddie’s ears in anticipation of the unraveling. A pleasure-soaked sob gets caught in your throat, dull whine escaping instead through clenched teeth, grip on the flannel doubling until your knuckles creak in protest.

“Hey.” 

There’s a confusing lack of authority or command in Eddie’s voice; you sift through the brain fog of arousal, propping your weight up into your elbows to look down at him.

Eddie looks crazy. Debauched. Lips pink and spit-soaked, chin shimmering, pupils blown out with lust as he presses a chaste kiss to the wiry curls at your mound. “Kinda quiet up there. Everything okay?”

His thumb sweeps a comforting path up the soft skin of your thigh, the abrupt switch from animal to gentleness making your head swim. He’s still looking at you with those puppy-brown eyes, fingers still buried to the hilt but unmoving; you stammer out an excuse.

“Um- yeah. M’sorry. It’s just been awhile, since you’ve had me… like this.”

It’s the truth; over the last busy week in your lives, time has eroded some of what Eddie’s been working on building with you, bravery at making noise faded with the lessened practice time.

“No one else out here, ‘cept you and me, sweetheart.” Eddie’s coaxing his fingers back into steady rhythm, watching your face carefully for any signs of withholding. “Can make as much noise as you want. Lemme hear. Please?”

Usually, Eddie’s not so soft- a sharp crack of palm to ass, flesh jiggling as he draws all the noises he wants from you- but here, in the back of the van, heady weed and warm sun an intoxicating mixture as he asks you to melt for him. 

You obey. Let the floor take your upper body’s weight again as you fuck yourself on his fingers, hips lifted and seeking release. His mouth seals over your clit again, tip of his tongue lashing quick and precise against it, frizz of his curls tickling the insides of your legs as he shakes his head.

The weed is certainly a help as trapped noises heave from your chest, mouth falling open, lax and pliant with moans. “Oh, my god, Eddie. Fuck. Holy shit. Hah- right there, please, don’t stop-”

As if he would. Eddie moans in tandem with you, his own hips chasing the maddening pressure of the floorboards against the hard jut of his cock, leaking through the front of his boxers as he adds a third finger, spurred on by the fountain of breathy words this pulls from you-

“Oh god, oh god- f-fuck- Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie-”

Your speech devolves into a mindless, babbling chant of his name. That coil pulls taut, has you crunching forward in a half sit-up, hands fisting at the roots of Eddie’s hair to hold him in place (perhaps harsher than you intend but based on the way his hips stutter and grind, you can safely hazard a guess that he’s into it). 

The pattern breaks when he grazes his teeth against the pulsing nub in his mouth; you have just enough time to gasp out, “I- I’m coming, Eddie, shit, m’gonna come-” before the orgasm hits you full-force.

There isn’t room in your brain to hide all the noise that threatens to suffocate, so you let them all out, muscles tightening and flexing around every bright point of pleasure that he fucks you through. High-pitched whines, panting that wracks your lungs, a moan to top it all off that feels like it comes from your toes. 

“Jesus christ.” Eddie swipes the back of his hand over his mouth, sounding wrecked himself as he climbs back over your body, silver chain necklace and dark curls swinging in front of your blissed-out face. “Fuck, princess. That was so hot.”

“Yeah?” Bashfulness hasn’t fully settled in yet, you’re still loopy from the force of your pleasure, arms slipping over the boy’s freckled shoulders as he leans down to kiss you.

His tongue has a bright tang of you, as you lick into his mouth, one hand leaving his shoulder to trail down his chest. Dark ink whorls beneath your fingertips as you reach the scratchy trail of hair just before his boxers-

“Shit.” Eddie hisses, forehead thunking into yours when you palm the hard length of him, precum soaking through the fabric, softness of your palm contrasting with the damp and rough drag of cotton. His long lashes tickle your cheek, eyes fluttering closed, soft exhale magnified by close proximity as he slowly pushes into your hand. 

You’re mildly surprised he hasn’t come, yet- usually Eddie gets off on getting you off, then uses the rest of his energy to make you both come again, together. 

What Eddie hasn’t told you yet is that he’s done some prep of his own, this week: every night you haven’t spent in his bed, his own spit-slicked fist has taken him right to the edge, stopping just short of coming with a choking grip at the base. The idea was to build up his stamina a bit, to take advantage of lonely evenings in service to a future you.

A very noble cause that is quickly being forgotten as your hand moves with more intent and pressure against his aching cock- the drug haze is almost enough to have him completely at your mercy, to tuck his nose into the curve of your neck and find sweet release by way of your pretty palm.

But he recovers. Get just enough distance from the warmth of you to clear his mind and snake his own hand down between your bodies to capture your twisting wrist. 

The protest dies on your lips when Eddie brings your hand to his mouth, sucking your middle and index finger against the pad of his tongue, saturating your digits in spit.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do.” His eyes stay locked on yours, even as he guides your newly-wet fingers back down your bodies to rest atop your cunt. “You’re gonna touch yourself until you come. Again. And if I feel like you’re holding out on me with your noises, I’m gonna make it real difficult for you to make any noise. At all.”

A thrilling shiver races up your spine, goosebumps prickling in response to the shift in Eddie’s tone. His eyes flick to your lower lip, which he bites, unable to help himself, before following the path of your hand south.

There will be time for unwinding the past, for dreaming about the future. For now, there’s a boy between your legs and the feverish glow of summer calling your name. 

___

for more shy!Reader content: masterlist

[matthewswifeyy]

After awhile you went quite, and I got mean 2

Summary: Exgirlfriend!reader lives with S4!rafe. She constantly has to watch rafe treat someone better and it finally gets to her.

Part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5

Warnings: small mentions of ed

Rafe came into my room once later that day. He came in to tell me him and Sofia were leaving for dinner.

I left my room once they left. I walked past the kitchen looking at the food. But I had a loss of appetite. I knew I needed to eat but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

This happens whenever things start going bad for me. Things were already bad enough with the break up and now rafe made it worse.

I walked out into the large living room. I sat on the couch leaning over the arm rest to grab the remote.

As I grabbed the remote a photo caught my eye. It was a framed of me and rafe at midsummers 2 years ago. I knew he had the photo I just didn’t know he framed it and put it in the house. Especially because Sofia is here all the time now.

I turned my head away from the photo and turned the tv on. I turned on a random movie that I found a Netflix.

Rafes pov

The truth is I didn’t want to be at this dinner at all. I wanted to be home and talk to Y/N. I’ve been thinking about it the whole time.

“So how everything with Hollis going?” Sofia asked me.

I sighed before sitting up.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now Sofia” I said picking up my glass and bringing it to my lips.

“Oh sorry” she said looking down at her food as she began to pick at it with her fork.

“Look I’m not trying to be mean or anything okay? I just have a lot on my mind right now”

“I know. It’s just you never talk to me about it. I’m here to listen you know” she said drop the fork on the plate.

“I know baby” I said taking another sip of my drink. “You ready to go out of here?”

“Uh yeah, let’s go” she said placing her napkin on the table.

———

Once Sofia and I got home I saw Y/N passed out on the couch.

“Uh you head on up. I’m gonna talk to her.” I said patting Sofia on the back.

I took my shoes off and walk towards the couch. I sat down next to her. I rubbed her shoulder trying to wake her up.

“Y/N wake up.” I said as I lightly patted her shoulder. “Wake up baby we gotta talk”

“Don’t call me that rafe” she mumbled.

“Sorry. What’s going on with you Y/N?” I asked her.

“What do you mean” she said sitting up.

“You know what I mean. You’ve been distant from like literally everything”

“No I haven’t.” She looked at me.

“Oh really? When was the last time you left the house then.” My voice became a bit louder.

“Please don’t start yelling at me rafe.” Her head fell back onto the couch.

“Then talk to me!” My voice began to raise even more.

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now rafe. We can talk tomorrow when all of the alcohol is out of your system.” She said as she got up.

“I haven’t been drinking.” I said as I watched her walk out of the living room.

“Yes you have rafe.” I heard her say from down the hallway.

God, I hate the way that she know me so well.

Readers pov

I woke up to my alarm going off. I groaned and looked at my phone.

1 text from rafe

I ignored it assuming it was about last night. I put my phone down and walked down stairs. I got to the last few stairs when I heard yelling.

“That’s what I’m talking about rafe! I heard you call her baby!” The feminine voice yelled.

“I didn’t mean to okay Sofia. It’s a habit that I gained from both of you” I heard rafe yell.

“I don’t care if it’s a habit rafe! You are dating me not her”

This argument was strange. Not only was it about me but I have never heard Sofia yell at someone. She was more on the quiet side.

“I am Sofia, I am dating you. But you have to understand that I still care for her okay. It wasn’t like that okay. It was in a comforting manner” Rafes voice became to calm down.

“Okay” sofias voice was quiet.

I walked down the final step to see them hugging.

“Good morning” I said as they pulled apart from each other.

“Uh I’m going to work” Sofia said as she walked away.

“Bye” rafe and I said as we watched her walk out the door.

“Alright uh I gotta go” rafe said grabbing his keys.

“Bye” I said quietly as I watched him walk out the door as well.

Well, another day on my own.

[iitslera]

Baby on the way : JJ Maybank x reader

Summary:  JJ and his girlfriend (reader named Grace) become young parents.

Warnings: English is not my first language (use of iphone translator), I don’t use y/n (reader is called Grace or Gigi as JJ calls her), Other than that, I think it’s pure fluff.

A/n: I’m receiving requests from JJ and Rafe, (im hoped to improve my level of English soon to stop using the iPhone translator) Based on S4 after buying the house from the bank, enjoy.

𖹭.ᐟ pt2

I held the test in my hands, with the words confirming what I had been feeling for days: Positive. That word seemed so small, but it carried an immense weight. My mind was in chaos. 

I didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or just stay silent until the world stopped spinning.  

How was I going to tell JJ? I couldn’t imagine his reaction, and that terrified me. We had been through so much together, but this was different. This was... too real.  

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to calm myself. The sound of the birds outside the house helped a little, though not enough.  

I walked toward the dock, hoping the salty breeze would clear the knot in my throat. I saw him from a distance, laughing with Pope and John B, as if the world were simple, as if nothing mattered more than the moment. For a second, I wished things could stay that way, uncomplicated. But then, JJ saw me.  

His smile slowly faded, and his expression turned serious. He knew me too well. He could tell something was wrong.  

When he reached me, I felt like I could barely breathe. My heart was pounding so loudly I thought he could hear it.  

“Is everything okay?” he asked, with that mix of concern and tenderness that always broke me. I shook my head because I knew I couldn’t lie to him, not this time.  

“You’re worrying me, Gigi…” he said, stepping closer.  

My hands trembled. I tried to stop them, to stay strong, but I couldn’t. I had to say it. There was no other choice. I took a breath, though it felt like I was running out of air, and finally, I let it out.  

“I’m pregnant…”

I said it so softly I almost didn’t hear myself, but he did. I saw it in his eyes. His expression changed in an instant. First, surprise, then confusion, and something else I couldn’t identify. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or something like happiness, but it was clear he didn’t know what to feel either.  

“Are you... sure?”he asked, his voice trembling.  

“Yes… I’m sure. I took a test, and... it’s positive.”

When I finally dared to look at him, I found those blue eyes that had captured me from the beginning. This time, there was no trace of the confidence he usually projected. It was like he was as scared as I was. But then, something changed. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.  

“Wow…” he murmured, as if trying to find the right words. “This is unexpected, but… we’re in this together, right?”

The knot in my chest loosened a little, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. I didn’t know how we were going to face this or what it meant for us, but at least I wasn’t alone. JJ was here, and that was all I needed at that moment.  

I never thought JJ would be capable of transforming the way he did. Being young parents wasn’t something we had planned, but seeing him so committed and dedicated made me feel that, maybe, everything would be okay.

He made the hardest days more bearable, and even when I felt exhausted or sick, his presence always gave me strength.

Morning sickness became my constant enemy in the early weeks. Every morning I woke up with that nauseous feeling in my stomach, and although just the smell of food made it worse, JJ was there, patiently trying to get me to eat something.

He would wake up earlier than I did to prepare toast or crackers, whatever I could tolerate. He never complained, not even when I asked him to move anything with a smell I couldn't stand.

Today was a calm, sunny day. I sat in the porch hammock, enjoying a bit of peace as a book rested in my lap and the wind tousled my hair. My hands instinctively rested on my growing belly. I couldn’t help but think about the little life growing inside me. It was a strange and wonderful feeling all at once.

Suddenly, JJ appeared with a smile, holding a bag in his hand. As soon as I saw what was inside, I knew what it was: strawberries with cream. My favorite craving of the past few days. I laughed, surprised and grateful at the same time.

“Hi, beautiful”he said with that smile of his that always disarmed me. “I brought you your strawberries with cream.”

My eyes lit up when I saw him, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re the best, you know that?” I told him as I made space in the hammock for him to sit next to me.

JJ set the bag on my lap and sat beside me.

“Anything for you, babe” he replied, winking at me. “You and she deserve the best.”

“she?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, amused. “How do you know it’s going to be a girl?”

He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I have a feeling” he said, with a confident smile. I laughed, both amused and surprised by his certainty.

“Now you can guess the baby’s gender too?“ I joked.

He simply smiled with that mischievous look he was known for, took a strawberry with cream, and brought it to my lips. I took a small bite, savoring the sweet flavor. It was so simple, yet so special.

“And what will you do if it’s a boy?” I asked with a playful smile as I chewed.

“Then I’ll have guessed wrong” he said, shrugging before bringing another strawberry to his mouth. “But I don’t think so. My intuition never fails me.”

“You’re impossible” I replied, laughing. “And if you’re right? What will we call her, if it’s a girl?”

JJ paused for a moment, then his eyes lit up.

“Kai”  he said, with a mix of excitement and tenderness. “It means ‘Sea’ in Hawaiian."

I felt something stir inside me when I heard that name. I repeated it softly, savoring its meaning, imagining our daughter and how it would feel to call her that.

“It’s perfect” I told him, with a smile I couldn’t hide.

At that moment, with the sun shining down on us and his presence beside me, I felt that despite the fears and doubts, we were building something beautiful. Kai. Our little Kai.

“What about you, little one? Do you like Kai?“ JJ asked with a smile, gently rubbing my belly. His voice was soft, as if he were already talking directly to her, as if they already shared a special bond.

And then, I felt it. Something moved inside me. It wasn’t the first time, but this time it was different, stronger, clearer. My breath caught for a moment, surprised by that small but powerful connection that reminded me our baby was there, growing, becoming a part of us.

JJ looked at me with wide eyes, surprised and excited at the same time.

“Did you feel that?” he asked, his tone full of awe. I nodded slowly, still processing the sensation.

“Yes... “  I murmured, my voice filled with emotion. He couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his face. He placed his hand back on my belly, as if he expected to feel it too, as if he wanted to make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

“It’s amazing...” he whispered, almost to himself, as his fingers traced small circles on my skin. “Our Kai... she’s already here, making herself known.”

Tears filled my eyes, but this time they weren’t out of fear or uncertainty. They were tears of pure happiness, of gratitude for this shared moment, for knowing that, despite everything, we were in this together.

JJ looked up and saw my teary eyes.

“Are you okay?“ he asked, his voice filled with concern for a second.

“Yes...” I replied with a smile I couldn’t contain. “It’s just that... all of this makes me feel that, really, everything is going to be okay.”

He hugged me, pressing his forehead against mine.

“ It’s going to be more than okay, Grace. We’re going to be an amazing team. You, me, and our little Kai”

And in that moment, with his hand still on my belly and the sensation of the baby moving inside me, I knew he was right. Everything would be okay.

We didn’t live in a huge house with hundreds of rooms in Figure Height, yet we put all our effort into making the place where the baby would sleep special. We started with the smallest details, choosing each object and color with such care, as if we were creating our own home within that space.

Our room, though not very big, was cozy and perfect for what we needed.

JJ was so involved in the process that he couldn’t stop commenting on the "perfect touches" he had chosen. We created a place where she could grow up surrounded by love and tranquility, and although it wasn’t easy to make decisions, every choice seemed to fall into place little by little.

Once we placed the crib next to our bed, we began working on the small details: soft white curtains that let in natural light, one of those crib mobiles with sea animals because JJ loved the idea of our baby growing up surrounded by those little marine touches, something that connected him to his own roots.

The shelves were filled with children's storybooks that Pope had given us, some soft toys, and several stuffed animals we had started collecting thanks to the rest of our friends.

Every time I walked into the room with all these new changes, I couldn’t help but smile. It felt like a dream come true. Everything was ready to welcome our little baby, a place filled with love and hope.

[pumpkin-cake]

hi this request isn’t for S4 i hope that’s ok!

but takes place in s2 where five strands everyone?

his spouse gets stranded a year and a bit before he gets there

and they made a career for themselves as a singer? maybe they have some sort of siren power or they are just naturally talented !?

but he finds them on a billboard or something that says where they will be performing next and they have a reunion where the reader has a love hate reaction to seeing him?!

sorry if this is a lot!!!

totally okay! i like all the other seasons better than 4 anyway lmao- this is actually an idea i have for my upcoming reboot of a five story i'd written, so i'm excited to sort of test it out! this turned out a bit more fem reader coded, but no she/her pronouns are used last i checked.

also my swiftie is coming out for this story, sorry to all you non-swifties ;-;

divider credited to @cafekitsune (lmk if you'd like me to remove it or anything of the sort!)

warnings: taylor swift (i love her actually but some people don't so)

The last thing you remembered was holding hands tightly with Five, and then he was ripped from your grasp, and you were falling ass first into an alleyway. Where did he go? Where were the others?

"Five..?!" You cried, hurrying out of the alleyway and bumping into somebody, who glared at you and walked off. You looked around and spotted a newspaper box, and you were over there before you could think. Your eyes scanned the paper. Year, year, what year was it?!

1960.

The sixties?! What the fuck?! All you could do was drop the newspaper to the floor, collapsing against the building wall beside you. You were the only one there. Some of your found-family wasn't even here yet, you'd imagine. There had to be some kind of time frame. You felt bad for whoever was put the farthest. Were you put the furthest in the past? What if you were super old by the time you found everyone again?! Well, you are already old, but what if you looked like it?!

All you could do was wait. You knew Five, he'd stop at nothing to save you and his family.

Unfortunately, there wasn't exactly anywhere to go. You looked pretty young and had no identification. You were wearing strange clothes, you didn't fit in. This felt like the apocalypse in a way, loads better obviously, but being alone? The worst feeling.

You had to stealth around, stealing and pilfering where you could. Sitting in alleys in the rain, starving. That was until you were dumpster diving behind some sort of bar. The heavy door creaked open and you froze inside the green box.

"Them damn raccoons again." A heavy southern accent was muffled to you, but you could tell it was a woman. You heard heels clicking on the ground and the dumpster opened and a broom whacked you in the head.

"Ouch!!!"

"Oh my heavens, yer a person!!!" The woman exclaimed, dropping the broom with a clatter. She reached over and helped you out of the trash, her nose crinkling. The woman was wearing a scantily clad flapper dress, a cute headpiece adorning her blonde hair. "What're ya doin' inside the trash, sweetie?" She asked with worry, brushing some garbage off you like it was nothing.

"Uh...I'm so sorry, I can go." You apologized, ready to get out before she called the cops like everyone else.

"Oh no, baby, no. Here, you come in, we'll getcha somethin' to eat." She assured you, ushering you inside. Some other women (and some men) that were dressed similarly didn't seem to mind. "Most of us here, came from poor too, we'll take ya in." She smiled, taking you to the back and providing you with a meal.

"Thank you...." You said, completely shocked at her kindess.

"Oh! Right, my name's Jess, nice to meetcha." She cooed politely, and you gave her your name through bites of food, making her giggle. "Tell me, sweetie, can ya sing? Dance? Anything of the sort?"

You paused. A golden opportunity was just presented to you. 1960. Some of your favorite artists haven't even been born yet. Not to mention your power dealt with your voice, similar to Allison's. You were frequently named The Siren in Umbrella Academy material. And, you didn't have any stigma to using it like Allison did.

"I write songs." You blurted, and a wide smile came across her face.

"Do ya?! Oh, you'll have to show Bruce then. He's the owner of the place." She hummed, and soon you were cleaned up and sitting in a private room on a nice sofa with a guitar in front of a sleazy looking man who looked like he'd run some kind of club with sexy women around to exploit.

"Alright, sweetheart. Show me whatcha got." He said, a fat cigar between his greasy looking fingers.

You took a deep breath. "Um...so...this song is called...." Shit, you had to think. You didn't have much time to come up with the song to sing. You had to pick a song that was popular in the modern era, maybe it would be good here too? But maybe you should stick to country. You were in Dallas, Texas after all. Not to mention you'd need to change some words if needed.

"C'mon, don't have all day." Bruce took a puff of his cigar, blowing the smoke into your face.

"Um. It's called...Mean." You blurted, and began to strum the guitar. Taylor Swift had been a hit as a country singer, this was a good idea in your mind. You were careful to control your power, and also make it believable. A southern accent and changing the word 'football' into 'baseball'.

As you sang, Bruce stopped focusing on his cigar and was completely focused on you and the shitty guitar you managed to make sound so good.

You finished the song and had a job immediately, with a small lie that you were 18. No liquor, but you could have beer! Thus began your career in that small club, becoming friends with the women who worked there. Soon enough you had the money for a small apartment. You despised the creepy looks men at the club gave you. All you could think of to continue was Five. He'd find you, right? Surely!

But after years? It was tiring. Dancing in sexy outfits in front of men with cigars, smoke and alcohol filling the air. The harsh lights on you while you had to make acoustic country covers of Taylor Swift songs. The more sexual songs like 'Dress' and 'Don't Blame Me' were your least favorite. You'd just have to withstand it. For days. And days. And days. And weeks. And years.

Five crashed into Dallas after witnessing the second apocalypse, with his hand empty. He forgot which sibling he'd been holding onto, but he knew he had you in his other hand.

"Shit, shit, shit!" He had hissed to himself, looking around and calling your name desperately. He'd never admit how panicked he currently was, and composed himself immediately upon the meeting of Elliott, some weird nerd.

"Alright, before I do anything." Five walked up to the man, looking up at him with fierceness. "Do you know anything at all about someone by the name of (Y/n) (L/n)." It was more a demand than a question. "If I find out you've been lying, I'll kill you." He threatened.

Elliott cracked immediately, telling Five he'd seen a billboard of that name recently. He didn't listen to music much, but their name was everywhere. Five was instantly gone, and was amazed to see your face on a huge billboard. You? A star? Not that you weren't talented, you absolutely were! You just weren't that kind of person. He asked around and found the club, teleporting in without an issue.

Ordering a drink, he sat as close to the stage as possible. A sleazy man you would absolutely despise walked out with a grin, golden teeth shining under the light as he began to speak. About you. Five clenched the glass of whiskey in his hand. This asshole looked so smug. Like you were his property.

Then you walked out with a shining silver guitar. He felt his breath leave him. "My God..." he hissed under his breath. You were gorgeous. He wasn't a fan of the makeup on your face, red lips and such. But you were glowing, looking so confident in yourself. You started singing 'You Belong With Me' by Taylor Swift, and he understood the situation quick. The folks around were immediately entranced, and it made him sick. You were using your power to reel them in, keep you popular and making money.

Your eyes met his and you faltered for just a moment, but no one else noticed as you kept singing. After the song was over, you gave him a look and walked backstage. Within seconds he was back there, so relieved to finally see you again.

"A singer, huh?" He said with a lopsided smile nobody else in his family got to see. "Not what I expected."

Your face dropped a tad, tears filling your eyes. "That's all you have to say to me?" You asked, and Five panicked. He hurried over and very gently held your face.

"No no, sweetheart, I'm sorry if that came off wrong. I'm so glad to see you." He quickly said, letting you fall into him for an embrace. "How long was I gone for?"

"Three years." You murmured, and he sighed.

"I'm sorry, I'm here now. You looked really good up there." He said softly. He decided to not tell you about the upcoming apocalypse. At least, not yet. When everyone was together.

"Thanks." You said with a weak smile, not at all letting go. Last time you let go, you were without him for 3 years. You didn't ever want to let go again.

fuck im sorry that ending was so rushed, but if it wasn't i wouldn't have had this out

[sachirou-senpai]

Father!Kuroo headcanons

A/n: S4 did kuroo so well and he's never looked prettier lmao. thx for being so sexy, don't know what we'd would do without you.

Warnings: Kuroo is a dad?? Children???? Idk kid stuff so like? Crying? idk I'm feeling so weird while writing this.

→ Has a baby girl!! She's such a daddy's girl. She absolutely hates it when he goes on long trips because she missed him!!

→ Gets so so soft when he sees her do literally anything. Walk? He's soft. Babble? Soft. Smile? He's mush. Smile AT him? Please, he's dead.

→ She's so spoiled because of him. Any clothes, food, toys, pretty much anything she likes Kuroo will buy for her.

→ He loves seeing the two of you together. He'll get this soft dopey look on his face, and then'll go up to you both and kiss all over your faces.

→ Likes to dress her up. Whether it be in a princess dress and bows, or a tuxedo, he just thinks it's absolutely adorable.

→ Brags SO. MUCH. about her. To literally EVERYONE. About the most random things, too. Sftu Kuroo. (No please don't, we love you.)

"Y'know, my daughter drank 5 cups of water today! Can your daughter do that?"

→ He's so engaged in her life!! Will take her to all of her activities and go to her recitals or athletic meets, literally anything she does. He'll cancel his work just to go see her-

→ A fun dad!! Kuroo has lot of fun stories from when he was in highschool and college, so he's never boring. Plus he's generally just a smart dude, so he likes to tell her lots of fun facts.

→ Kuroo!! Gives!! Good!! Hugs!! And his daughter knows it. Always looks for her father when she needs cuddles.

→ Overall, Kuroo is such amazing dad.

(pls i can't why is kuroo so cute 🥺)

Please reblog if you enjoyed.

[quitealotofsodapop]

As part of my rabbit hole into Jttw, I've been looking at more and more monkey-related articles and science topics. I am an irl biology undergrad. It's my thing.

And I noticed a lot of focus in the LMK fandom on Macaque's scarf.

In the Harry Harlow monkey experiments (tw for distressing stuff) one trait that would frequently occur is that "orphan" macaques would become emotionally attached to pieces of cloth/towels. Even with the presence of a "wire mother" that provided endless food, the baby macaques would cling to bundles of cloth to simulate being held by their mothers. In experiments where the baby was provided a "cloth mother" that had no milk to give, they would still cling even if it meant starvation. If the researchers attempted to remove the cloths, the babies would panic and lash out. Those whose cloth was removed actually died from grief. The reason is simple; it was literally their security blanket.

Btw; These experiments weren't done out of cruelty. There was a really damaging parenting belief during the 1950s that believed that babies should be held as little as possible, less they become "spoiled" from too much contact. Harlow's team was able to prove that yes, you need frequent positive physical contact to survive/thrive as a baby.

The cloth-clinging can also be seen in macaques raised by humans that don't understand their instinctual need to cling. Even when dumped in the wild, former "pets" will cling to their security blanket like their life depends on it. Because it really does.

SO I had a thought;

What if Macaque's red scarf is his security blanket? His "cloth mother"? It being one of the few comforts he had as a baby monkey? Or even the only memento of a life before the Brotherhood? A simple piece of cloth that holds more value to him than all the treasures of Heaven?

I've seen ideas/headcanons that the handkerchief he wears on his armour in the Brotherhood-era is actually his trademarked scarf, and that he began wearing it more loosely because Wukong hasn't been adjusting it for him. Since we don't see an earlier form of Macaque, he is literally almost never seen without his red scarf, save for glamours and at the beach in S4.

Macaque, who tries his best to be a self-sufficient loner, getting panicked when he can't find his scarf or when it becomes damaged. Wukong learned a long time ago not to touch the scarf without permission, and was only allowed to interact with it when Mac was in a good mood.

And you know who else is a monkey with a piece of red cloth that they're never seen without?

You touch MK's bandana - you die. I believe it was likely Tang and/or Pigsy who used the cloth to keep the hair out of the baby's face, and MK psychologically attached to it as a form of comfort. He's not evne sure why he's so attached to it.

[teambyler]

Stranger Things has made the General Audience care too much for Will to deny a Byler ending

In Season 1, Will is kidnapped, survives a week without food or shelter in a nightmare dimension, and is implanted by a demon. He's been abused by his dad and bullied his whole life. Yet once he orients himself the FIRST thing he does is see Jonathan's hand and ask if he's okay:

In Season 2, he avoids telling everyone what's tormenting him because he doesn't want to worry them and he thinks he'd be misunderstood and babied. (He only tells Mike.) He gets possessed, has the guilt of causing people's deaths, and multiple times feels the pain of being burnt alive:

In Season 3, his friends aren't interested in D&D. Mike tells him something homophobic and cruel. Will realizes he's gay and closeted and has had his innocence stolen from him forever. He destroys Castle Byers full of sorrow and self-hate:

In Season 4, he's in love with his best friend and lives with the pain that Mike is dating his sister. STILL, he unconditionally helps Mike in the relationship, even if it denies himself a chance to be with him. He gives El the credit for the painting HE made for HIM:

For 4 seasons, the show has made people care for Will as he suffers alone. What logically happens in Season 5 is that he stops suffering and is no longer alone.

In Season 5, the Duffer Brothers have left an open plot point where MIke's love confession to El was based on a lie. He felt romantic love for the first time because WILL confessed his love for HIM. (I wrote something on that!)

The seeds for a "Byler twist" are all there. The main factor against a Byler endgame is a need to cater to the General Audience who might not be ready for a gay relationship between two main characters.

But not only would denying Byler be (by far) the worst instance of queerbaiting in media history, where Will's love for Mike is simply a device to prop up a straight relationship...

... It also would feel particularly CRUEL to Will. For 4 seasons, the Duffer Brothers have made sure the GENERAL AUDIENCE wants him to have a happy ending. And they have made clear that Will wants to be with Mike so much.

Nearly every other main character in ST has had their love interest. There is no main cast addition to s5, so there is no "other boy." If Byler happens, then the people who'd complain would not only want the gay boy, but WILL of all people (how dare you!), be the only main character to end up alone. He is America's Gay Adopted Son. The anti-Bylers would be isolated.

The Duffer brothers have set up the GA to cheer for Will pairing with the boy he loves. It would be a home run against homophobia.

Will told Mike he is the heart of the party. But for the GA, Will has been the heart of the show since the beginning. (And if Mike leads the party in s5, it's because Will's heart is on his shield.)

"Will really takes center stage again in [season] 5," Ross Duffer told Variety. "This emotional arc for him is what we feel is going to hopefully tie the whole series together."

The Duffers have said s4 was their Empire Strikes Back ending. Which makes s5 the show's triumphant Return of the Jedi.

Will will get his happy ending. It's all there!

-teambyler

[chefkids]

I wonder if Carmy secretly had some of Syd’s family meal and I wish they had filmed him calling Syd's previous employers to ask about her... Do you have any specific sydcarmy moment you wish appeared in S4 as a flashback?

The Etoufee family meal?

I feel like he probably did try it. We know he at least tried the risotto she made with it.

I wish they had shown what that phone call she made asking about the sous position was like and just how she managed to find him working at The Beef in general. I feel like we might still get a flashback episode with what happened between her trying Carmy's dish, her working at restaurants, Sheridan Road shutting down, and her applying for Sous. A UPS flashback and more serendipitous crossovers, I want a flashback of Syd and Mikey randomly meeting and interacting with her delivering something for him

Also Syd actually trying Carmy's dish at Empire. I think we might still see it, because actually showing her reaction to tasting it important and the show often makes a big deal out of trying food and this is supposed to be the best dish of her life. I think he also likely saw her try it like she saw the reviewer try her dish.

The moments immediately after they found the money and Syd came back and the start of season 2. How did he explain to Nat and Unc Jimmy that Syd is fully part of the family business now?

I wish they showed Sydney's dad reaction to her starting at The Beef and what went down when she quit, how she told him she is coming back and about The Bear and all that cause clearly the man has some opinions about Carmy and has been biting his tongue for a while. Who knows what shes told him while shit talking Carmy. Honestly I wish season 1 had been way longer and shown more of them together and just The Beef's crazy antics in general.

Carmy designing Syd's Chef Coat and asking Thom Browne for a favor.

More of Carmy's vintage denim lore.

Nat telling Sydney who Claire is, spill girl.

I wish they showed everyone at The Bear finding out Nat was in labor. Carmy should've been there. Syd too. Not the Fak attacks. I'm pretty sure there actually was a scene filmed with Sydney, Carmy, and Richie all going to Natalie's house for Season 4, so hopefully they get to interact with Nat's baby together. I need to see Uncle Carmy and Aunt Syd in full force.

[leosficlist]

Johnlock Fluff rec list Part 2!

Back again! Here are some stories of getting together, and fluffy domestic warm fuzzy feelings!

Fluff 1, Fluff 3 , Fluff 4

The Barter System by brbsoulnomming 6.9k words

“Sherlock and John form a bartering system. Well, Sherlock does, anyway.”

notes: sharing clothes, getting together, includes a first time but overall feels fluff

A Long December by LondonSpirit 3.1k words

John and Sherlock get snowed in, Sherlock doesn't feel well and John looks after him.

notes: first kiss, bed sharing for warmth

Hope Springs Eternal by QuinnAnderson 4k words

John Watson and Sherlock Holmes go on holiday, and Sherlock has romance on the brain.

notes: Sherlock being romantic, first kiss/time

The Source of Light by bookjunkiecat 4k words

During the outbreak of the virus, John, as medical personnel, is essential on the medical frontlines. This means a necessary separation from his loved ones. Stretched thin, exhausted, he nevertheless makes time for a Skype call with Sherlock and Rose. Even though all he wants is to finally tell Sherlock how much he loves him, now isn't the time. Circumstances, however, don't always work as we expect.

notes: parentlock, COVID-19 mention

Insomnia by youtextd 4.4k words

Sherlock and John can't sleep.

notes: love filled getting together, first time

So, this is normal for us now? by TooManyChoices 1.4k words

John and Sherlock have been sharing a flat, and a life for some time. This is a story of how the glacially slow movement of their relationship makes another agonising crawl forward another inch.

notes: bed sharing, mentions sex but no smut

It’s In The Details by KimbiaBlue 4.2k words

“I’d like for us to meet with a forensic artist, to determine how capable we are of describing one another to a perfect stranger, should there be a need in future.”

In which John struggles to adequately describe Sherlock Holmes, and also thinks about his lips a lot.

notes: post-mary, no baby mention

Nothing So Sweet by @alexxphoenix42 5.2k

In an alternate universe, Sherlock is busy keeping to himself, tending his bees, and selling lovely jars of honey when a soldier limps into his life quite unexpectedly.

notes: au, first date first time fluff

and stand there at the edge of my affection by coloredink 2.6k

"You've written love letters," Sherlock asserted.

A Bit of Spring by Avice 3.3k words

Sherlock is in love and almost buys flowers. John is confused until a good old fumble in the dark helps him see the light.

notes: sherlock in love, jealous john, trapped together first kiss, first time

A hiccup in the plan by jamlockk 1.3k words

"In retrospect, it might have happened anyway. As it was, circumstances converged to create conditions conducive to finding himself trapped in a small space, pressed close to his half-furious, half-laughing flatmate, trying desperately to stop the undignified squeaks erupting from his esophagus. Sherlock later reflected that, if he'd known that's all it would take for John to kiss him, he'd have got stuck in a cupboard on a stake out long ago."

34 Minutes by bendingsignpost 4.6k words

An experiment in eye contact.

notes: truly lovely

Wish I Was in Heaven Sitting Down by @blogstandbygo 3.2k words 🔒

Five times when Sherlock and John ate together, and one time they didn't. A history of the boys, in food.

notes: through the years til post s4, minorly hurt john

The Trouble With Being Subtle by Victory Candescence 5.4k words

In which Sherlock experiments, John misinterprets, and everyone else stands back and waits for the light to turn on.

notes: Sherlock is bad at flirting

[der-schweizer]

On day one of Cheesemelt: Newborn

Vlad adjusted the mixture of the pod again, adding point zero zero two four percent more ectoplasma into the mixture. Considering the last six tests on the clones stability, this would future improve it.

He moved to the next pod, and was just about to adjust it by the same amount when an alarm blared behind him. Pod one was blaring and its emergency light was on, indicating a catastrophic error.

Moving quickly over, he took a look at the control panel, seeing that the pod had already entered the abort phase and was about to expel its contents. Vlad scowled at it, each clone cost him approximately five million dollars. He could stomach one dissolving after it finished its gestation but during it? No, that wouldn't be accepted.

He took two steps back to avoid the minor deluge of amniotic fluid, he didn’t wish to get any on his dress shoes if he could, before stepping back forward and looking down at the little thing inside it. Taking another look at the control panel told him that this was clone ‘dmf/s4-6’.

With a sigh, Vlad went and retrieved a towel from a nearby rack. He quickly wrapped the tiny thing in the towel and moved over to a spare pod. It would be madness to not have some form of backup in case something happened to them.

He began inputting the necessary commands and parameters in the control panel before pausing at a slight tug on his fly. He looked down to see a pair of brilliant blue eyes look up at him. The clone's tiny fist had grabbed the lower string of his fly and had given it a tug. 

It made a warbling noise before tugging again, undoing his fly. It made a happy warbling noise at that.

Vlad let out another sigh, before taking the piece of cloth from it. “Nono, this is not a toy.” It took a surprising amount of strength to pull it from the clone, only for it to burst out into an ear piercing wail, tears forming in its eyes and both hands making grabbing motions for the fly.

Gritting his teeth, he handed it back to the clone, which immediately caused it to shut up and go back to playing with it. He looked down with a mixture of annoyance and disdain, thinking about how he was going to get his fly back without causing another crying session.

He recalled that babies often went to sleep after being bathed, and considering there was still the smell of amniotic fluid on it he might as well wash it. So he carried the clone over to the chemical disposal sink, clogged the drain and let in warm water.

Unwrapping the clone proved difficult due to it not cooperating at all, only for it to realise that the water was nice and then it began to splash around whilst making more happy warbling noises.

Vlad huffed, then folded up his sleeves and went to clean the clone. “Hold still you little.” It proved much more difficult than he had anticipated, mostly because the clone kept splashing around.

Despite all of that, it didn’t appear tired at all, Vlad let out an exasperated huff, wondering what else he had to do to get it to sleep. Maybe some food would help. He briefly wondered if he even had food for infants.

Danny didn’t trust the silence that surrounded Vlad. He had seen neither hide nor hair from the frootloop and it was slowly putting him on edge. A quiet Vlad was a sceeming Vlad.

It was how he found himself outside of his Wisconsin mansion, wondering if going there was a good idea, but he had to know, even if it bit him. So he rang the doorbell, and waited, and waited, and waited some more.

Just as he was about to ring again the door opened, revealing a Vlad that had rings under his eyes, crumpled clothes and very messy hair. “M’ye?”

“Vlad? Are…are you okay?”

The man looked more asleep than awake right now and was that sauce on his shirt?

"Duno."

[vignirek]

Wukong + Macaque headcanons (part 3)

(part one & part two of previous hcs)

Wukong

- optional headcanon 1: in JTTW the monkeys all adopt Wukong's surname "Sun" (if I remember that part correctly), so perhaps in the Monkie Kid universe the monkeys still share Wukong's surname like they're all one family in a sense (and maybe it also applied to Macaque while he still lived on the mountain)

- has less scars than Macaque, but the ones he does have are from pretty severe injuries that his immortality was unable to heal for various reasons (and maybe he got some of them from before he became immortal and didn't have op regeneration abilities yet) - his favorite flavor is sweet and he dislikes spicy + bitter foods (while Macaque is the opposite, though he does eat moderately sweet things) - Wukong's fur is short and soft, while Macaque's fur is long and smooth - he and Macaque were the troop's go-to babysitters when the monkey parents wanted some rest from taking care of their babies (after their fallout, Wukong had to be the babysitter all by himself, but then Macaque started picking up his babysitter duties again since his return to the mountain after S4) - likes to play videogames in his spare time, his favorite types are tower defense and fighting games (while Macaque's favorites are fighting games and story-driven games) bonus: they're mutually afraid of horror/scary games (partially inspired by Monarch and Cyyu playing Mortuary Assistant) - optional headcanon 2: Wukong became depressed sometime after the journey, but he's been isolated on his mountain for so long that he doesn't even see it as a problem (and even if he did, he'd just deploy his good ol' "ignore the problem until it's not a problem" tactic) (it definitely wouldn't work all the time though) bonus thought: at some point Macaque realizes that his ex-best friend is depressed and starts secretly helping him out by making him proper meals and making sure he always has a set of clean clothes available (and just doing the house chores in general) (he feels like a jerk for always clowning on Wukong for being smelly after realizing this, so perhaps he does the chores as a way of making it up to Wukong) - he and Macaque used to have a very intertwined/synced fighting style; now they're grown used to fighting separately after their fallout, but they can still subconsciously slip into the familiar pattern sometimes - headcanon for funsies: he/she genderfluid

Macaque

- continuation & sorta update of my headcanon where Macaque has another name besides "Six Eared Macaque" - still kinda stuck on which one would be most fitting for him, but I've narrowed it down to my three favorite options after a lot of digging:

1) "Fēng Wǔ" (风舞/"wind dance"; my main interpretation is that it's a nod to his manner of dancing being light and carefree like the wind (in my headcanon at least))

2) "Yǐng Wǔ" (影舞/"shadow dance"; somewhat similar to "wind dance", but with his shadow powers, could be interpreted as him guiding his shadows in a dance of sorts)

3) "Jiāo Yè" (姣夜/"charming night"; mostly a nod to his black fur and maybe his appearance in general- perhaps the backstory behind this name is that Wukong gave Macaque a nickname in an attempt to help him feel less self-conscious about his own appearance, and the nickname eventually grew into an actual name that Macaque started using)

(note: I'm absolutely not an expert on chinese names and these options are mostly results of me slapping together chinese characters and seeing which ones sound good together in theory- so don't expect them to be 100% accurate to how chinese names actually work)

- has a big amount of scars from various past scuffles that happened before and after his resurrection (mostly because he doesn't heal quickly like Wukong does, so Macaque is not as "untouchable" as him)

- very good at vocal mimicry (basically he copies people's voices really well) and can adjust his voice to copy anyone he hears (his ears help him a lot with that, bc he can easily copy the voice just by listening closely)

- optional headcanon 1: Macaque gets a pair of headphones at some point and spends at least a couple hours a day listening to music; one of his favorite genres is metal (though overall his music tastes range from gentle tunes to something more like rock or metal) and he sometimes sings along (he typically goes into a room covered in noise-cancelling spells to do it) (maybe he takes those precautions because one time he got too into it and received multiple noise complaints the next day /j)

- the vision in his right eye (from his point of view) is pretty bad because of the injury, he's pretty much considered legally half-blind in that regard; the most he can see is blurry moving shapes, but he tries to make up for it with his hearing, so usually the blind right eye is not much of a hindrance to him, though he refuses to get glasses or lenses of any kind for vague reasons - prone to losing his appetite when he's really sick or stressed (he struggles maintaining a healthy weight because of that) - optional headcanon 2: Macaque had already been living on FFM for some time, but then one day he witnessed Wukong hatching from his egg and basically went "oh cool, new friend c:" and brought him along, and afterwards they became friends (basically he's older in this backstory interpretation) - in terms of shapeshifting, Macaque's strengths are in disguising himself as other people, while Wukong is more proficient with the 72 transformations (they can do both, but Macaque only has a few animal forms and hides his tail, while Wukong has his tail at all times when he's transformed into an animal or is using a disguise) - used to be fond of peaches, but after so much baggage involving Wukong, they taste almost bittersweet to him and he rarely eats them nowadays - a decent teacher when he puts his mind to it (he's typically the more organized one when it comes to teaching, though he isn't afraid to push limitations when he feels it's necessary) - headcanon for funsies: he/they nonbinary

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

I was going through my blog for the past few months when SUDDENLY

Truly I love when one of my posts ages like fine wine. Gourmet cheese, even. I have never felt more validated in my entire life XD Literally the only thing that was possibly disproven here was that, as @baldwinboy5ive has pointed out, Yasmine never confirms she actually likes bleunamis and we can't say for sure that that wasn't just Demetri assuming she did ^^;

"Ohhhhh it makes no sense Demetri cheated on Yasmine! He's obsessed with her! He worships her! Like I don't even like the ship but this is how he acts in canon!" Besties how do I explain to you that Demetri is not obsessed with Yasmine, not even a little bit. He's not even obsessed with the idea of her, although he might have been at some point. He SAYS he's obsessed with Yasmine, and he clearly wants the people around him to THINK he's obsessed with Yasmine. But his actions do not remotely indicate that, and never have.

If Demetri was actually obsessed with Yasmine at any point, we would know such things as what her hobbies are, what her hopes and dreams in life are, where she wants to go to college, what kind of job she wants to have, which school subjects she's okay at and which ones she struggles with, or literally like. Anything else that makes her a person. We as the audience don't know any of these things because Demetri, who should know a good chunk of this information if not all of it, has never made a single mention of anything Yasmine-related beyond the most obvious and surface-level details.

Unfortunately, throughout S6, Demetri forgets Yasmine's existence every time she walks offscreen. And even when there would be a natural opportunity to bring her up, i.e. when the kids are talking about college, Demetri does not make a single peep about her or how she factors into his post-high-school plans. Even in S4 and S5, Demetri only brings up Yasmine's existence a couple of times (once when talking to Eli about how karate helped him land a hot girl, and once when trying to give Miguel relationship advice for his own girlfriend). Neither of these are Yasmine-specific--Demetri talks about her like she fills the "girlfriend" role in his life and has no importance in of herself. Eli should get back into karate because karate got Demetri a hot girlfriend! Demetri is justified in giving Miguel girl tips because he has a hot girlfriend! It could literally be anyone and the way Demetri treats her and talks about her wouldn't change.

Moreover, if Demetri was as obsessed with Yasmine as he claims, they would maybe have one (1) conversation that wasn't about Demetri and his shit. Their relationship is all about him, and Yasmine revolving herself around him and his needs. She cares about karate because of him! She cares about nerd shit because of him! He plans their dates and orders food he assumes she will like without her actually indicating she will! And when, pray tell, has Demetri ever embraced, asked about, or indicated even minimal knowledge of Yasmine's interests???

Not. One. Fucking. Time. He barely ever talks about her and we have no proof he knows anything about her. That is literally the farthest thing from obsession. I can tell you as an ex middle school girl who was not immune to intensive and all-consuming crushes, I could probably write biographies for all my objects of affection solely based off of info they had mentioned to me or things I found out secondhand. I retained all of it, and I fixated on it. I talked about their lives nonstop and bored the shit out of all my friends. THAT is obsession. THAT is worship.

"But he calls her queen! He calls her goddess!" These are...not uncommon pet names for people who are dating. And in any case, pet names do not mean shit. Guys will call girls "baby" or "sweetheart" or "honey" and then abuse them and treat them like garbage. If anything, lavish, extra-ass pet names like "my goddess" can actually be used as a subtle manipulation tactic. Because hey, if I'm calling you something that implies I kiss the ground you walk upon, then maybe you won't notice that I never ask a single question or remember a single thing of substance about you, right? If I TALK like you're my whole world and then some, then maybe you won't notice that I am meeting your emotional needs at all because I do not actually know or understand you at all!

Now, I don't think Demetri is truly so much of a piece of shit that he's manipulating Yasmine intentionally. I think the over-the-top pet names are just one more thing he's using to sell the image that he is a Totally Normal Guy Who Is Thrilled To Be With This Hot Girl and cover up the fact he is not actually into or interested in her at all. More on this later.

"But it's because Demetri and Yasmine barely get any screentime! Demetri hasn't brought up any details about Yasmine because it's not relevant to the story!" And let's stop to think about why that is, eh? Demetri doesn't consider his partner to be worth a mention or even a passing thought in regard to...literally everything else in his life. And in S3, S4, and S6, Demetri gets plenty of screentime to maybe like. Say one (1) substantial thing about Yasmine. And the crazy thing is that it could incorporate seamlessly into the "comic relief side guy" role they are often determined to keep Demetri in. Imagine Demetri yapping at karate practice about designer fashion or nail salons or something else Yasmine talks to him about, and Johnny overhears and is like "ha! I knew he was a weird sissyboy!"Only to find out he got into these things by proxy via his incredibly hot girlfriend. Like it would NOT be hard to use this relationship for one-off jokes that would be on-brand for this show's humor, and yet. They don't. Instead of seeming even mildly interested in his girlfriend's existence, the showrunners have Demetri make pop culture references and situational snarky comments.

Now, you're probably wondering why someone like Demetri, who usually unapologetically does what he wants and doesn't give a shit if people don't like it, would initiate and stay in a relationship that he does not actually want to be in. And the reason, to me, is simple: He wants to fit in.

Demetri, from the beginning, has struck me as someone who doesn't have much interest in girls and dating, but wants people to think he does to appear "normal." Admitting he doesn't care about something most teenage boys obsess over would instantly "other" him and make him an even bigger target for bullying, which we know he's been dealing with for some time. And then, when Miguel and Eli both show overt interest in girls and get girlfriends, the pressure only increases. At this point, he's already worried they're going to leave him behind because of karate. The last thing he needs is something to cement to the two best friends embracing traditional masculinity that he's some kind of abnormal freak, and something they need to shed so as not to ALSO be seen as freaks.

(The why of Demetri's disinterest in girls and dating is irrelevant here, but for what it's worth, I think the simplest and most straightforward answer is that he's closeted and gay. If you don't see that, however, it's also possible he's acearospec. OR he just...is not impressed by any of the people he meets as dating prospects and maybe wants to wait until college to find a more meaningful connection with someone than just "they're hot and we have spicy make-out sessions." But in the world of high school boys--especially the toxic masculinity-obsessed world of Cobra Kai--this is NOT something you can ever outright say if you want people to respect you.)

Flash forward to Demetri getting with Yasmine, and attaining the safely unattainable. What is he supposed to do here that won't expose the "otherness" he's been trying to hide all along? He still has no real interest in her--he never did, and now he has to worry that might become apparent. Even when he (presumably) gets to know her, it's clear he's not too engaged or captivated, considering how he never demonstrates knowing any more about her than he did in S1. And he can't break up with her, considering all the unwanted attention that would bring. Because WHY WHY WHY would he give up every sane, NORMAL guy's dream??? Demetri's life may be in a more stable place--Miguel and Eli are his best friends again and he has a wider friend circle on the whole--but for all he knows, the only reason he was able to achieve this kind of happiness was BECAUSE he conformed. He got a hot girlfriend--the apparent ULTIMATE mark of social status in this dudebro-run universe--and if he willingly gives that up, he could lose everything. If he admits he doesn't want a girlfriend just for "having a girlfriend's sake," maybe Miguel and Eli will reject him. Maybe the rest of his friends and support system will, too. After all, so many of the people in Demetri's network are in relationships--Sam, Miguel, Robby, Tory, Eli, Moon. Hell, even his senseis! Johnny is dating Carmen, and Daniel is happily married. Being single by choice would make Demetri the odd one out. And after the abandonment issues he developed in S2, no way in HELL is he doing anything to jeopardize his support network.

And that brings us to Barcelona. Demetri got a significant confidence boost from beating Eli in the flag fight, and is starting to realize that he's more desirable to girls than he thought. Maybe he doesn't have to settle for Yasmine as a cover-up if there are other girls out there who could fill that role. Because that is all it is--a role. We have every reason to believe Demetri doesn't value romantic entanglements with girls for their own sake; to him, they're just a tool for showing off his coolness via "look! I get bitches!" as well as a means of fitting in with his peers.

So here comes Maria, offering Demetri a chance to show off just how cool and baller he is to his peers via giving him the ultimate thing men should strive for in this universe--girl attention. Demetri doesn't need Yasmine anymore. She's thousands of miles away, and there's a girl right in front of him who will help him project the image he wants. Why should he be concerned with a girl he only ever pretended to like to maintain appearances? Hell, maybe there's even some resentment there, if Demetri legitimately felt like he couldn't break up with Yasmine without subjecting himself to social scrutiny.

Add this to Demetri's falling out with Eli, and it gives him even more motivation to dance with Maria. Note how Eli is the one initially checking out Maria--enough so that Demetri slaps him like "you have a girlfriend!" And when Maria comes over, Eli feels like he has to say no out of principle. Demetri sees an opportunity to get under Eli's skin via dancing with a girl he's attracted to, and hey--it works, doesn't it?

Worth noting that Eli is ALSO a pretty shit boyfriend who knows basically nothing about Moon, but unlike Demetri, he has a more clear-cut feeling of "I shouldn't do this because it would be wrong." Demetri, meanwhile, is either so numbed out from the guilt of using Yasmine for his image that he wouldn't have any left to feel for cheating OR he knew what he was doing from the jump, in which case...why the hell would he feel even an iota of guilt for cheating, or hesitance to do so?

I suspect it's the former, since Demetri isn't like...a sociopath. But I do think he has been using Yasmine for quite some time now, whether he actively feels bad about it or not. And that's so clearly and obviously wrong that, in Demetri's mind, it dwarfs any "wrongness" of dancing with someone else when you're technically in a relationship. So might as well have some fun and make Eli mad, right?

"But you're biased because you ship Eli and Demetri!" Bizarrely enough, a lot of the complaints about the cheating plotline are coming from...other Elimetri shippers. At first I thought it was kind of funny (like...can't we just take the win and be happy, guys? Can't we celebrate the fact we've been saying Demetri doesn't give a rat's ass about his performative het relationship, and we were proven correct?), but now it's starting to get on my nerves. I feel like a lot of people in this fandom like Demetri not for what he is, but this like...kooky goofy funny wholesome comic relief guy they've built up in their head. Or people SAY they love his Villain Arc and want him to be a horrible cunt in Part 2, and then they flip tf out and claim he's OOC when he actually DOES do morally questionable things. The Demetri fandom apparently can't handle him being flawed if it's not in like...a safe and sanitized way where he doesn't act like thaaaaaaaat much of a jerk.

And what's even MORE frustrating is the way people are spazzing out over Demetri being flawed in a way that is VERY MUCH supported by what we have seen of his character for the rest of the show. Yes, he WOULD cheat, actually! Yes, it DOES make sense for him to cheat on a woman with another woman as a closeted gay boy (or something else significantly outside the cishet norm)--he has no real investment in his romantic relationships with women! the people around him seem to indicate that "getting chicks" is the ultimate mark of prowess, badassery, and success. Demetri figures "Hey, as long as I'm doing that, it doesn't matter who the fuck the chicks actually are. I just need to meet my Normal Heterosexual Quota before I go do something I actually give a shit about, like playing Dungeon Lord."

All this can be true, by the way, without Demetri being an absolute steaming shitpile of a person. We KNOW he has redeeming traits! He's incredibly loyal to and protective of his friends, and has been especially ride-or-die for Miguel, Eli, and Sam. He loves playing the entertainer, and he clearly eats it up whenever he makes Eli or one of his other friends laugh. He's sweet and loving with his female friends like Moon and Sam (which makes it all the more apparent to me that he...doesn't really care about Yasmine tbh. He has far healthier relationships with his platonic friends than his own partner!). He found it in him to forgive his best friend for some truly heinous shit, and probably would have been content for it all to be water under the bridge if not for the college debacle. Demetri is not unilaterally a bad person because he caved to the pressure to have a girlfriend and then...dealt with it poorly when he realized he didn't actually want her. His flaws and shortcomings are what make him interesting!

So often people see him in this really black and white way that really does his character a disservice. It's always "my Demetri is the bestest kindest gentlest most caring boy in the world and would NEVER cheat!" or "Demetri is absolute TRASH because he cheated on his girlfriend even though Miguel did too and we forgave he ass, and now nothing else about him or the context he did it in matters!" It's like no one wants to engage with his complexity, or stop and put some thought into his motivations and mindset before going "IT'S BAD WRITING BECAUSE I WANTED HIM TO BE A GOOD BOY AND HE'S A GOOD MORAL BOY IN MY HEAD AND THEY MADE HIM AN ASSHOLE >:(" Demetri can deeply love and fight for his platonic friends while treating the women he gets romantically involved with as interchangeable and unimportant. Both can be true. And if that makes you uncomfortable--GOOD! People are complicated, and characters that show that and force audiences to reckon with the multifaceted, messy, and often contradictory aspects of human nature are a positive thing. Especially in the age of purity culture writing characters off as The Epitome of Goodness or Pure Evil, I think approaching character analysis with nuance is more important than ever.

And finally...friends, I'm going to be so real with you for a second. I, the person behind this account, am a woman. I have dated and been in relationships with men. And frankly, it concerns me that it took cheating for a good chunk of this fandom to recognize Demetri is a shit boyfriend. And even now, with pretty infallible proof he's a bad boyfriend, I still see people in denial, saying "he wouldn't fucking do that to Yasmine! It was OOC! Why did they randomly have him decide to treat his girlfriend badly!" Ladies and gentlemen, have we been watching the same show??? He has never ever treated his girlfriend well, swinging back and forth between othering her as this larger-than-life Concept™️ and showing their relationship off like a prize. He uses her as a vessel to project what he wants onto and tell all his problems to. Just because Demetri isn't outright abusive and insulting Yasmine every 5 minutes doesn't mean he isn't toxic as hell. Their relationship has always been all about Demetri, and he only values Yasmine insofar as she can stroke his ego and fit the nebulous "dream girl" mold he's cooked up.

And I am pleading for women who like men to demand better than what Demetri Alexopoulos has to give. I mean, first of all, please get a better gaydar, because I have met an astounding number of irl gay men that remind me of that boy XD So if you meet a guy who's Demetri-coded to an above average degree...definitely double and triple-check he hasn't got you lined up to be his next beard before you get your heart broke ^^;

In all seriousness though, ladies. I know society is always telling us shit like "ohhhhh find a guy who's OBSESSED with you and WORSHIPS you and calls you a QUEEN!", but none of that means jack shit if a man doesn't want to actually learn anything about you and humanize you as more than an ideal. It's hard to be able to have good, thoughtful conversations with someone and be silly and goofy and relaxed and your most authentic self when you're constantly yelling down from the pedestal they put you on ^^; And please, for the love of god!!! I don't care HOW much you like a guy, you get the hell out of there if every single one of your conversations is about him. Romance is meant to be a partnership, not a girl erasing her entire personality and then some to cheer on a boy who does not even know where she's going to fucking college. Know your worth, seek better, demand better. Never settle for some dipshit who forgets about you every time you walk out the room because he called you "golden goddess."

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk 🩵 TL;DR I fully support the Demetri cheating plot and hope it will eventually be the wake-up call people need to see this man was NEVER a good boyfriend to Yasmine Nolastname. I'm so happy she finally realized she deserves better than being some gayboy's beard cheerleader coolness trophy, and I wish her the best of luck in pursuing people who actually want to fuck women ♀️