#warning: NOT A SERIOUS ANALYSIS

[haedre]

“...Arrayed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold and precious stones…”.

That's the typical Mairon (in fanart).

But also no, not really, this is the biblical quote of wh\ore of Babylon aka the scarlet woman. And the quote continues: “…having in her hand a golden cup full of abominations and the filthiness of her fornication...…drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs …and when I saw her, I wondered with great ADMIRATION.” (Revelation 17:4-6 KJV)

...Now quote Wikipedia on "Wh[o]re of Babylon"

-"Mystery, Babylon the Great, the Mother of Harlots and Abominations of the Earth"

-"She is further ...a representation of "the great city which reigneth over the kings of the earth"

-"Many Biblical scholars believe that "Babylon" is a metaphor for the pagan Roman Empire at the time it persecuted Christians" (I put it here because RoP baby Sauron's costume has some heavy Roman influence. But I'm 100% reading too much into it)

A symbol of corruption and immorality, …idolatry, and the fall of cities, and societal decadence. Sounds rather familiar too huh?

TLDR: Mairon needs to keep dress in Red and be covered in jewery ✨. I'm totally going to give him a new nickname "the scarlet one" from now on :33 the more I think about it, the more I like this idea and the fandom & rop costumes. XD

-----

In the Thelema/Aleister Crowley version of Scarlet woman/Babalon, things are even more saucy.

Quote: "Beautiful art thou, O Babylon, and desirable, for thou hast given thyself... and thy weakness hath subdued their strength."

Quote: "[she is the] consort of Chaos… thereby assuming the title of "Master of the Temple"… (and she is) often referred to as a sacred wh[o]re."

Plus all the ritual s*x thing there

also, in John Dee's Enochian magic, BABALON means wicked.

(Oh so sl*ty and wicked ofc)

[charles-leclerc-official]

2024 Japan Grand Prix Race Analysis

My analysis of the 2024 Japan Grand Prix. Table of contents below detailing the order of the post. We have a lot to cover as this was an eventful race so I am not going to waste time making introductions.

Table of Contents  Ferrari – Race strategy: qualifying and tyre management – Charles: his qualifying and his race – Carlos: his race – In depth data and pace analysis Mclaren – Race strategy – Tyre management/Charles – Pace VCARB – Yuki: his race – Daniel: his crash with Alex Red Bull Mercedes Williams – Logan: his race – Team car problems Stake Concluding Thoughts

Ferrari

Ferrari had Carlos start in P4 and finish P3. Charles started P8 and finished P4. They both further secured Ferrari's lead for second in the constructors as well as keeping the WDC and WCC still competitive against Red Bull.

This race highlighted some areas that need to be improved on the SF-24 but more importantly it also showed some of the massive improvements that Ferrari has made in development and that is what made this race very exciting for Ferrari fans.

Once again the Ferrari strategy was great. It would have actually been good to mid if it were not for Charles having the skill and confidence to go for the one-stop strategy. But this is another race where I don't think they could have done anything better.

As it was with the starting grid positions Charles was looking at maybe getting P7 or P6 with a 2 stop strategy. And that strategy was most likely given the track and how much deg there usually is at Suzuka.

The reason Charles made it to P4 was because of his superior driving and tyre management, and Ferrari listening to him when he said he wanted to go for the one-stop strategy. They listened and it was 100% the right call on Charles’ part. 

Charles outperformed what should have been possible. If you don’t believe me just look at what Max, Lando, Oscar, Checo, Mclaren, and Red Bull are saying about his tyre management. Charles in the SF-24 was the only one who could have pulled that one-stop off. Seriously, the fact that Max didn’t think he could have done it is really all you need to know. They saw that and were genuinely impressed not only by the car but by Charles, because we saw that with Carlos he was struggling more with tyre deg and that was with a two-stop approach. 

So not only was this the best strategy to maximize points for Charles this race given his starting grid position, it was also just a truly phenomenal drive from Charles himself. 

And once again we are seeing incredible strides being made at the Ferrari pit wall in terms of timing and strategy. The pit stops for both drivers were on point. They listened to Charles and went with the strategy he wanted and it worked! 

Everything I saw this race was so promising for the trajectory of Ferrari and Charles’ season, and beyond into 2025 and 2026.

Charles: Race, Qualifying, and Free Practice

Charles ran a truly insane race. The only reason he gained all of the positions he did was because of his choice to do the one-stop and not only that but making it work! He gained every position it was possible for him to take and then some. His tyre management on this high degredation track was borderline supernatural.

Charles pulled off zero to negative tyre degradation on both sets of his tyres. (Negative deg is when faster laps are set as the tyres age) This was without question the best tyre management performance we have seen from a driver in 2024. It is something that no other driver could pull off (either due to skill, driving style, or machinery) and that is why Charles is Ferrari. 

Have I waxed on long enough about Charles and his tyres? Just wait till you get to the Mclaren section.

I also have a lot more to say about his pace and tyres in the data section.

For now let's move on to some of the questions people might have about what happened to Charles in qualifying and FP3.

Charles qualifying position was decided in free practice. I want to try to be brief, so here is a quick timeline of why Charles’ didn’t have the optimal setup for qualifying (this also applies to Carlos because both Ferrari’s underperformed in qualifying, there was a difference of 1/10th between them so it really was just a matter of the field being so tight)

Suzuka is colder during the day than any race we’ve had so far this year. With the SF-24 being so good with tyre deg that is actually a problem because it means that getting the tyres to warm up takes longer. 

The loss of all of FP2 due to rain was a big blow to Ferrari and especially Charles.

Charles has been having more issues getting his qualifying settings right to manage the tyre warming issue. This is due to his personal setup choices and driving style. Being gentler on the tyres in a car with less deg is leading to him underperforming in qualifying. 

So we lost valuable time when Ferrari really needed to understand the SF-24 behavior in the colder Suzuka temps. 

FP3: Charles and Carlos both got in some race sim laps, but only got to squeeze in 1 or 2 flying lap tests at the very end. Charles especially was frustrated by this. I believe that this came from not having the time to complete all of the program they had outlined to prep for qualifying and the race. 

Going into qualifying Charles didn’t have enough data to guide his settings for Q1. They went with a certain setup they hadn’t gotten to fully test and it didn’t work. Which led to them having to send Charles out again in Q1 with a different setup on another set of softs to try to set a better lap in Q1.

In Q3 Charles only had 1 set of softs remaining to set his best lap. It was okay but not enough. I do think that over qualifying he did get settings better on the car and if he’d had another set of softs he might have made it up to P6 (possibly P5) the middle of the field was very close so I don’t think this qualifying placement and time was as bad as it looks. It certainly isn’t great, but compared to his teammate and the rest of the top teams it wasn’t so concerning. 

So the lack of enough free practice to figure out the best qualifying setup for Charles in the colder temps is really what cost them here. I think this is why we saw Charles very frustrated at not having the time to do more flying laps during FP3 and Fred also not happy with the program they ran during all free practice sessions.

All of this does apply to Carlos as well. We’ve seen him qualify better in 2024 too so this was just a matter of the SF-24 settings on flying laps given the colder temps and the track. 

This is a current issue for the SF-24, but it is something that can be developed and I think there are certain upgrades that will address this. It is better to have a car base that is too gentle on the tyres than the other way around. The SF-24 tyre treatment is a good base to work with. This weekend just highlighted areas where improvements need to be made. The unfortunate part was the loss of FP2 because that was going to be important for colder temp data gathering.

I want to once again now take the time to shut down some narratives about Ferrari's race specifically relating to Carlos' lap 46 pass on Charles:

The reason Charles and Ferrari let Carlos pass was because Carlos was on newer tyres and thus had overall faster lap times.

It’s insane to expect a team to keep the car that has faster pace behind. I could see it if it was a difference of 1/10th or something or if it was the last lap of the race, then it’s up for debate. That wasn’t the case here, Carlos with the tyres that were 10 laps newer was almost 1 second faster. Keeping him behind would have not only compromised his race but also possibly Charles’. We don’t want a car just hovering behind the other. As we heard on the radio the main concern was keeping Lando behind. As far as gaining significant placement this race goes we always knew Lando was going to be Charles' competition. If the cars were fighting over pace with this big of a discrepancy in the pace we would have seen disastrous results. 

Charles knew this and this is why he let Carlos by. He was never intending to race Carlos(he literally said this in interviews after). With the way they started on the grid it was not going to be in the cards this race. Charles said as much and he isn’t upset about it. 

“Carlos overtook Charles”: No, Charles let him pass because that was strategically optimal for both Ferrari drivers. 

“Carlos’ pace was better”: No, he was on a completely different tyre strategy, the only reason he was faster is because he did two stints on mediums and then finished on newer hards. Charles overall race pace and tyre management was better. This is just a result of 1. Different starting positions and 2. Different tyre strategies. It’s very hard to do a driver-to driver comparison with blanket statements when they are on different strategies.

“Ferrari gave the order to switch with Sainz”: No, they just didn’t do that, I don’t know what race you were watching.

“They should have told Carlos to defend”: That would have been a bad strategy choice for both drivers. There is a lot more than current track position that goes into strategy calls.

"Ferrari strategy screwed Charles over again": No, Charles chose his strategy(and it was the right call). Ferrari did great in supporting him.

I don't understand why people want to run this narrative that we keep getting Silverstone 22' level strategy calls when that is just not happening.

Now Charles radio after the race may have sounded disappointed and in the heat of the moment he probably was. However in interviews after the race he was very happy with the car (I think he realized just what a good performance he put in) but also I think his big takeaway from this race was that Ferrari have given him a strong base to work with(finally) and he has been only saying more positive things since then.

Ferrari did amazing supporting both drivers. Especially Charles because it was his call to do the one-stop and they listened to him and supported him perfectly throughout running that strategy.

Carlos

Carlos ran a clean race. He gained the one position which is about what we'd expect from the car he was in and his starting position. His performance also gave us really good baseline data for the SF-24.

His race was mostly decided in qualifying and also the fact that Mclaren struggled far more than expected on this track. Ferrari initially thought he might have to fight Lando more for that position but Mclaren's struggle was Carlos' gain.

I also think that just this race in general from him and his driving style was really good data for the SF-24 to inform development and that is awesome!

I don't have a ton to add, it was good, got those WCC points for Ferrari and that's exactly what we want to see from him.

In Depth Data Analysis

The name of the game here is tyre wear. The SF-24 (especially in Charles' hands) has had phenomenal race pace and that is due to the fact that this car is so easy on the tyres. However Charles is the driver who has been able to pull this feature out of the car due to his driving style and tyre management skills.

We are going to look at a comparison of Charles' and Carlos' data to highlight exactly what was so interesting about Charles' pace. And then also adding in Max, because as the driver to beat he is a good benchmark(as well as showing the top performance of the RB-20)

Here is a comparison of lap times between Charles and Carlos, corrected for tyre age(because they were on different strategies)

For the medium tyre I used both their first medium stints. Carlos did two stints on mediums, I used his first stint for comparison because it means both tyres were subject to the same time of day and track temps and conditions. 

Now the lap times themselves here aren’t as important. Carlos and Charles were in different spots on the track and Carlos was in much cleaner air even on that first stint. The real thing to look at is the way Charles lap time stays consistent, and even gets faster as the age of the tyres progresses, while Carlos starts off with his best speed and then gradually gets slower. Carlos’ pace here is an example of what we expect to see - as tyres age they get slower so his pace on these tyres is perfectly normal, by the time he got to lap 14 before he pitted he’d lost more than a second of pace on those tyres (which is normal and expected). Then we can then look at Charles who is getting almost the exact same lap time out of his 11 lap old mediums as the first lap. Where Carlos has lost more than a second, Charles has lost nothing. Furthermore you can see multiple instances of an increased speed on his previous laps, which indicates negative tyre degradation. This goes against general tyre wear behavior and can only be attributed to Charles’ skill in extending the pace of his tyres.

I want to add that both driver’s pace was excellent and that both their performances would not have been possible without the massive leap Ferrari has made with the SF-24 and race pace tyre degradation. 

Again looking at the hards the actual lap time is not important here, Charles and Carlos were running very different strategies at this point. Charles was racing to extend the life of the tyres to pull off a one-stop and Carlos was trying to regain position near the front. What we are looking at is once again the way the lap times increase for Carlos steadily, and just don’t for Charles. 

Charles once again was pulling essentially the same lap time on 11 lap old hards, while Carlos had lost a full second. The sheer consistency here is what is scaring the other teams. 

I want to note here that none of this is meant to make Carlos look bad. I think his runs and tyre treatment were pretty good overall, but when your teammate is defying the laws of physics in the same car it can even make a good drive look not as great. But I have no issues with how Carlos managed, he gave a good example of what I would say is the base deg for the SF-24.

Now I want to compare Charles’ pace to Max’s, again correcting for tyre age. 

This is helpful because this is where we can get a look at match-ups for the future, the strengths of the SF-24 compared to the RB20. 

Here is where it gets interesting. Max on the hards was managing degradation amazingly, right on par with Charles. 

The big difference is on the mediums. After 11 laps Max had lost over a full second of pace on the mediums and Charles had not. 

This gap is where we are going to see big results come in from the SF-24 in the future. If I were Red Bull I’d be worried about this. And this is why they are also specifically worried about Charles, because we see that the SF-24 in Carlos hands is behaving as expected as far as tyre deg goes, the real threat based on the data is the combination of Charles Leclerc and the SF-24. 

Deltas Δ

Now let's take a look at what the change in pace lap to lap looks like for Charles, Max and Carlos. Again using those first 11 laps on the mediums.

Lap deltas are the change in lap time lap-to-lap, and this is a metric that shows if a driver is keeping pace, gaining pace or losing pace. Positive numbers mean a loss of pace, negative numbers are a gain. This is calculated by the equation of (Lap time B - Lap time A = change in pace or the delta Δ) So it's just the time difference lap to lap. This is how we can take a look at the actual pace and correct for lap times (which are not important here)

On it's own this doesn't look like much, yes Charles is managing best, but Carlos is also ahead of Max. This is showing where the SF-24 is better than the RB-20. The fact that of these three drivers Max is the worst on this metric is notable.

However the impressive part of Charles' tyre deg is not in these first 11 laps. Because after these laps Max and Carlos had to pit because they were losing time and their tyres were done.

Charles kept going.

Here is what Charles' full stint on the mediums looked like.

Charles continued to achieve faster laps and negative deltas well into the life of the tyres, and that is what is setting him apart from Carlos and Max.

Not only was Charles achieving negative deltas, he was doing it more consistently as the tyres aged.

For comparison here is Carlos' and Max's data overlayed on Charles full medium stint.

While the first graph on the mediums shows that both Ferrari's were outperforming the RB20 in terms of deg(or at the very least Carlos was on a very similar delta to Max), this is where you see the difference in the drivers. Because Max and Carlos had to pit because they were rapidly losing performance on those tyres(see above time sheets) Charles was not, and he only improved. He more than doubled the life of his tyres in comparison to the other two.

This is the graph that really matters because it shows what each driver was able to do with one set of mediums. And as you can see it's not even close.

This is where you can see the impact of the negative deg over time. Compared to the normal deg we see with Max and Carlos it serves to highlight exactly how outside of the norm Charles was operating.

Charles only continued to improve well beyond the other two. That's what was insane about his tyre management.

Neither Carlos or Max were going to be able to continue their pace (hence the pit)

I feel like the data really speaks for itself. Max and Carlos are good comparisons here, Carlos is a good driver in the same car as Charles, and Max is the current top driver on the grid and is known for his tyre management.

I want to finish this section with the sentence that is chilling the blood of every other driver and TP on the grid: Charles set his fastest lap of his race on 25 lap old hards.

Mclaren

So what happened to Mclaren?

A lot of people were expecting Mclaren to be the second strongest team on this track. And qualifying certainly made it look like that might be the case. With Lando being ahead of Carlos in P3 and Oscar being ahead of Charles in P6 on the starting grid.

So why did both Mclarens get easily defeated by the Ferraris?

I think there are 2 main reasons.

The Mclaren car is not even close to the SF-24 when it comes to tyre deg, that car loses pace much faster so it just cannot fight when a Ferrari comes up behind it.

Charles 1 stop strategy really messed up the team's pit strategy with Lando. 

In Mclaren’s defense no one thought anyone would be crazy enough to try a 1 stop around Suzuka, let alone have zero tyre deg on a high deg track. 

They seemed to be managing their pit strategy with Lando under the assumption that Charles was going to pit twice, and I think they were very worried about an undercut in the pits (after they didn’t get away with it in Australia I think they were very keen to make sure they kept their position)

But Charles didn’t do a 2 stop strategy. He stayed out and his pace on the hards was unbelievable. 

There was really no way for them to see that coming. It’s kind of hard when your main competition decides this is the weekend he’s going to challenge the laws of physics.

(And you thought I was done talking about Charles’ tyre strategy)

Here is a graph of Lando vs Carlos. That was the spot he lost, and you can see that the pit strategy is really what cost Lando the spot. Carlos came behind him on much fresher tyres and by then he'd lost the pace. He pitted too early, and that was due to Mclaren not understanding that Charles is on another level.

His pace was okay on newer tyres, but once they age the drop off was pretty bad. So the Mclaren car needs to improve in the tyre deg department if they want to see either of their drivers beat a Ferrari any time this year.

Furthermore Oscar once again struggled more because he is still the weaker of the two Mclarens when it comes to tyre deg, and on this track that really showed. 

But I think the fact that Mclaren kept trying to figure out when Charles was going to pit for his second stint and then he just didn’t really threw them off and had them making some weird pit calls. 

VCARB

Yuki

Yuki ran what was in my opinion the second most impressive drive of the race. He qualified P10 and finished P10. However to keep that position he pulled of some truly perfect overtakes. He was fighting to finally get that home race point. I was so excited seeing him put on that good of a show for his home fans.

In this race he became the first Japanese driver to score home race points since 2012, and that is just so exciting for Yuki and his fans. It really made that single point mean a lot. I don't think I have ever been more excited for a P10!

Yuki has really been showing what the VCARB car is capable of and it looks really promising. He seems comfortable and I think we will be seeing a lot more points from him this season.

Daniel: Crash with Albon and DNF

Going to be covering Alex and Daniel's crash this section.

On lap 1, Daniel and Alex made contact going into turn 3, resulting in both cars going off the track and ending up in the barriers. Both drivers had to retire from the race.

To me this looked like a result of crowding into that turn in the mid field with neither driver at significant fault. I don't think Daniel was trying to push Alex wide, and I also don't think that Alex mistook that corner. The FIA and stewards agree and Alex and Daniel's story of what happened make sense.

Going into the turn Daniel had the outside line, and he was trying to give room to the Aston Martin(Lance) on his inside. He didn't see Alex on his outside and his wheel made contact with Alex's front wing, causing his car to spin and pushing Alex of the line and into the gravel.

Alex thought he had the outside line to overtake and was in the process of attempting that when Daniel went to give space on the inside, this resulted in the contact and Daniel forcing him wide.

This crash really just was a result of crowding in that corner, Daniel was trying to give space to one driver and inadvertently crowded out another. There wasn't space so he was kind of in a lose-lose situation there.

I agree with the stewards that no penalty for either driver was warranted and that this was the result of midfield crowding, and some bad luck for both drivers. It wasn't a result of bad driving on either Daniel or Alex's part. Even if Daniel had seen Alex I am not sure what he could have done if he also needed to give room to Lance.

Ultimately I am glad both drivers are uninjured. Hopefully they have some better luck in future races.

Red Bull

I don't have a ton to say about Red Bull. My comparison in the Ferrari data section is what was most interesting about this race from the data standpoint.

They didn't do much, the Red Bulls started ahead and finished ahead as expected. Max and Checo both ran a really clean race. Again showing the power of the RB-20.

I will add that this was a really good race for Checo(probably his best this year), and it was nice to see him have redemption after Suzuka 2023.

Nothing terribly exciting to add. Max won again, well done Max!

Mercedes

Mercedes didn't have a great race, but considering that both their drivers DNFed in Australia it was good for the team to get some points. Lewis started in P7 and finished P9, while George started P9 and finished P7. So they swapped positions.

It seems that the Mercedes car might be better on those qualifying laps than the race pace (and even then it's qualifying has been inconsistent)

The most notable thing about Mercedes' race was when Lewis asked if he should let George pass when George came up behind him, and George did in fact make the pass. This was done simply because George's pace was better. Lewis knew this so it was best for the team.

I think that so far we have seen that the W15 is struggling in a lot of areas, and as far as drivers go George has been more comfortable in the car(could be driving style, setup, a combo of the two) than Lewis.

Both are solid drivers, and hopefully they can guide Mercedes into making improvements to the car to get them closer to top points. At this point the car Mercedes has made seems to have fallen short of expectations. Make no mistake though, Lewis and George are both drivers who are much better than the car they are in at the moment.

Williams

I covered Alex's crash with Daniel already so we are going to talk about Logan.

Logan honestly did about the best he could do in the car he had. After damaging both his front and rear wing in free practice and still using the repaired chassis from Australia his car was not in the best shape already going into the race. Additionally the Williams really struggled with grip in the rears and has been all over the place. Suzuka especially seems to have not been suited to it.

Yes on lap 41 Logan went off track into a gravel trap, but that was on a corner that had given more skilled and experienced drivers trouble this weekend so I am not going to fault him too much for that in the car he had. Better cars were having problems there too.

He did have a really strong first stint and was pulling some overtakes. Most of his positions were lost when he did get undercut by some pit stops, and then of course losing time to the gravel trap.

The win is that he finished the race and the car is intact. That may not seem like much, but given the state of things at Williams it's important.

There were some highlights for his race and I will say in terms of raw performance he has not been far off Alex this year. That car of Williams is really hindering both drivers.

Stake

Stake actually had pretty good pace overall. The car is not as bad as it has looked on paper. The main issues has been their slow pit stops (caused by incompatibility between the bolters and the tyre covers apparently) Zhou and Valtteri both showed some pretty good pace and were in positions for overtakes.

Zhou unfortunately had to retire his car due to gearbox issues.

Stake has really been a mess and we have not seen what that car can actually do in terms of performance overall, or what what their drivers are capable of in that car.

They are making attempts to address the pit stop issue and I think if they do that, then we will see both drivers picking up some P10 points at the very least.

Final Thoughts

I think we can all agree that Suzuka was the best race of the year so far from a pure racing standpoint!

Whew, that’s all I got on this race, so I will leave you with this final thought. 

This race was a warning shot from Ferrari.

[dappersautismcreature]

at this point, analysing the qsmp had to come with an understanding of oppressive government and labor under it. i truly do not think you can look at the even surface level themes that the federation represents without political analysis. the qsmp wants to talk about these themes and ideas, and i am going to give it the serious response it deserves. it does not matter if its a silly goofy minecraft server, it is still media that reflects current political climates and I am going to have strong opinions about it :3

[godtier]

so i wasn't gonna make a separate post about this but @sapphire-weapon had a post (that i reblogged a few days ago) in which someone mentioned that they think it was a missed opportunity in RE6 for jake to not have spoken to wesker. i had a p long conversation with sirea about it and my thoughts about that sentiment, but it was also nearly 3 AM my time when that happened so i dunno if i was even articulating my thoughts properly lmao

and yes... this is technically a meta post and i know i said i was gonna do the mmx meta post first... but this one isn't gonna be nearly as long (i hope) and i gotta get the brainworms out before i die

(quick edit note: i reworded the list item below from saying he was "likely a drug addict" to "likely a recreational drug user" because i feel like that better encompasses what i'm trying to get across

(another edit note: i made another post regarding jake's usage of drugs that stemmed from this post! it's marked as mature bc of drug usage, so it won't show up in tag search. if you're interested in that, look here!)

so the idea that wesker being alive in OG RE6 would have brought an opportunity for jake's character is kinda, imo, antithetical to the purpose of jake's character in the first place.

when we meet jake, we know a few things about him, right off the bat:

he's a mercenary

he's likely a recreational drug user or at least heavy/risk-taking user

he doesn't give a fuck about anything but making money

his whole character journey is going from this selfish, money-focused dickhead to someone who actually cares about doing something good, just because it's the right thing to do. at the start, jake refuses to simply give his blood away when sherry mentions needing it for a vaccine. no, he wants a cash payout. 50 million dollery-doos for a pint of his blood. by the end, he lowers the price to a mere 50 dollars. one could argue that was symbolic and he actually didn't care if he was paid or not, but that's neither here nor there.

but why was he like this? because his childhood was shite; his mother was sickly, he had no father figure, and by 15-ish, jake had to learn how to hustle to keep food on the table. and by "hustle" i mean "do a bunch of mercenary work and killing people." and when shit went south with his little group of mercenaries (their entire group was sold out by a heel-turner), jake basically went "fuck alla y'all" and lost all sense of conviction or morals.

during the game, he expresses his bitterness for his father, wesker, pretty clearly. even though his mother still loved wesker, tried to raise jake to respect him despite never knowing him, it didn't matter to jake. he hated that guy. well, really, who doesn't?

we're not gonna talk about excella rn ok

jake's entire character arc is built up around this hatred as well as a subconscious fear of becoming his father. the fear part doesn't show up until later in the story, after he and sherry were captured by the Big Bad's organization. they were both experimented on for several months, during which jake overheard the researchers talking about his father, wesker. this gives jake a sort of "explanation" as to why he is the way he is; he takes the "nature" side of the nature vs nurture argument.

ofc sherry scolds his ass and basically tells him "grow up and take responsibility for your actions."

and here's the thing... this fear, narratively, works just fine without wesker being there.

(since this got obscenely long, pls continue below for the actual explanation lmao)

jake eventually comes to the conclusion that yeah no it's definitely up to him to not become wesker, not his genetics. he does this without wesker being there. that's the entire point of his character journey. in order for an interaction with wesker to even matter or have any sort of impact on jake's character arc, his character arc as a whole would need to change.

see, imo, wesker being there diminishes a lot of the power of that journey. in the game, he isn't there for jake to scream at, to question. all those thoughts in his head that might be circulating around, like why he left his mother, why he did what he did, etc, cannot be answered. this is not a bad thing in a character arc as this is shit that happens to people all the time. people don't always get the answers they may want from family members because those family members are dead. they have to learn to move on without those answers or they have to rely on people who knew that person to fill in the blanks. this is what jake already does in game. he has to rely on sherry, and by a smaller extent, chris, to fill in those blanks for him.

but we as players, observers of the narrative, already know the answers to some of those questions. why wesker did what he did, primarily. anything else is only pertinent to jake and him knowing those answers doesn't change anything for his character arc as it is.

if wesker was there in the game, what would that even add to jake's narrative? a scene where jake yells at his dad? asks him "why did you leave?" when wesker wasn't even aware that he had a kid in the first place? remember: wesker had no fucking idea that he had a child. there would be no reason for wesker to even believe jake in the first place. sure, there could be a scene where he goes "well i'll be damned, ig he really is my misfired chromosome," but... then what? what does that add?

you could argue that wesker could use jake, maybe try to manipulate him into doing shit for his plans, but... that wouldn't work with the way jake's characterization is mapped out. his entire characterization would have to change for this to work in a satisfying way.

jake already hates wesker without ever meeting him. he would not willingly participate in anything wesker offered to him. he already knows that wesker nearly destroyed the world multiple times and had a hand in destroying an entire city. even if jake has no moral compass at the start of the game, by the time he learns about what wesker really did, who he really was, he's already showing that he does have one, it was just dormant up until that point. he's clearly disgusted by what wesker did. what foothold would wesker have that wouldn't immediately result in it just falling flat?

given how wesker is, i could see him perhaps belittling jake, maybe saying "wow you suck for being my spawn," or something during a fight with the intent to rile him up. would that work? no, not narratively nor not in the way jake is characterized. again, jake doesn't want to be like wesker. why would insulting him and saying he's not "as good" as wesker expected him to be motivate jake or even anger him? it shouldn't, because jake doesn't want to be anything like wesker. if anything, it may annoy him, but that's kind of a lame reaction, right?

if anything, the most i could see culminating out of this would be jake standing over wesker after he's defeated again (because it's resident evil and obviously wesker can't win) and having a "wow idk what i was worried about" moment. that's it.

but he doesn't need that. having a scene like that cheapens the weight of him figuring that out himself, without wesker there as "proof."

because the point of his story, of his character arc, is that he figures that out on his own (and with the help of sherry and the events he witnesses) because he has to. he doesn't need wesker there to spoon-feed that to him. he figures that out by working with sherry, by seeing the effects of the C-Virus on everything that it infects. wesker being an abstract entity in his life is enough, because the frustration of not seeing him, not being able to put a bullet in his skull himself, fuels the rest of his journey.

this is where i think that people who make these observations or criticisms (primarily those who think that jake's character would have been improved if wesker was there) need to understand the difference between what's good for a character as a person and what's good for their arc.

interacting with wesker would be good for jake as a person, in that he would no longer need to wonder about it. the answers would be spelled out for him, and he wouldn't have to do any wondering about the what-if. he wouldn't have any doubts left that he'd need to untangle.

but in doing that, it cheapens his arc; it would do more of a disservice to it, imo, than anything else. it would make his journey more formulaic and boring.

it would also clutter up the already cluttered narrative of that game. you have him not only struggling with his heritage, struggling with the fear of becoming his father, struggling with needing to be the "savior" by giving his blood, struggling with his moral compass, but now also struggling with seeing his father for the first time in person?

it makes his arc top-heavy. in that scenario, you could easily replace him with another, completely new character who has zero ties to wesker and the story wouldn't change in any meaningful way. the reason why it works the way to does now is because wesker is already dead. it creates that internal conflict, that internal frustration, that jake has to learn how to deal with since he cannot take that frustration out on his father in-person. he has to make peace with that struggle in other ways.

now, that's not to say there aren't ways that adding wesker into the story of RE6 that don't disrupt that balance. primarily, when it comes to a potential RE6 remake, the writing team can (and hopefully will) rework aspects of the entire game to make the plot more streamlined. this could include adding wesker in and redoing jake's characterization and character arc entirely.

this would be the only way i could see it working out. if jake's entire motivation was changed, his entire backstory was tweaked, then wesker being around could probably work! an interaction between them could be made to make sense and not bog down the rest of the plot as a result.

sirea also mentioned to me in our conversation that adding wesker in to RE6 remake could actually help streamline the plot and i do agree with that. she mentioned that all of the main characters have a tie to wesker in some way, which is absolutely true. having him there would neatly tie their campaigns together in the plotline and make the game as a whole feel less disjointed and messy.

this is especially true when we consider there are 4 fuckin campaigns that all run alongside one another and intersect at random points. it gets so fucking difficult to page through and figure out when certain things happen in the plot. you'll see them happen in order in chris's campaign, for example, then you go start leon's campaign and have to start over again and try to remember what happened at the same time during chris's campaign and so on.

now imagine that not with just two campaigns but four. it gets gross quick. sure, there are parts where the characters run into each other and that helps ground a general timeline in your head, but as far as time elapsed... it's so fuckin hard u guise

there's a reason why it's so hard to summarize the plot of RE6. it's because there is just so much going on in that fucking game.

anyway, that's my rant/sort of meta analysis about why i think wesker didn't need to be in OG RE6 and probably would have made jake's entire arc stupider than it already was

[embervoices]

A very useful thread on Bluesky:

(There is a lot more. Rather than give you all the images, I've copied the full text below.)

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬ November 8, 2024

This is not going to be a repeat of 2016-2020. It will be better, it will be worse, but most of all it will be different. Here are things I want every single person to keep in mind as we head into round 2 of a Trump admin.

My credentials: I’m a queer female public interest attorney working on tech policy in DC. I’ve been doing this for a decade--longer than some, not as long as others. I had to navigate three different administrations, as well as Congress, regulatory agencies, courts, and the advocacy world.

FIRST: don’t let despair override your media literacy.

The left has grifters, just like every other movement. If you’re able and compelled to donate, give to orgs with established track records. Avoid giving to individuals, especially anyone who emerges overnight with a one-weird-trick “plan.”

The left is not immune to misinformation, and everyone—EVERYONE—falls for it sometimes, present company included. There is no shame in it. When (not if) it happens to you, you should acknowledge it; delete or retract the post to reduce the spread; and move on.

If a source consistently shares half-truths or outright misinformation, it is not trustworthy, no matter how much “their heart is in the right place.” Unfollow and move on.

Prediction, analysis, and reporting are three fundamentally different things. Learn to identify them for what they are. Reject attempts by amateur “analysts” to predict the future. They know as much as you do.

Real subject matter experts know and acknowledge their limits. They’re also (usually) hesitant to try and predict the future. The best frame their predictions in terms of a range of possible outcomes. Subject matter experts may also disagree with one another! It happens!

SECOND: What we know for sure about how the Trump, how he operates, and how that will impact the next four years.

Trump is a narcissist who avoids reading and doesn’t care about details. He cannot be persuaded by argument or logic; he’s moved mostly by flattery, and will agree with the last person who flattered him. He can and will upend his own administration’s work without warning, often by tweet.

As a result, most policy experts—even those "on his side"—dread him taking an interest in their field. Ask any Republican staffer who worked in Congress during the last administration, and most of them will confirm that their greatest fear was Trump tweeting about anything related to their work.

As such, people who are serious about their work will do everything to make it as invisible and boring-seeming as possible. This is the policy equivalent of defensive camouflage. Lots of “normie” work will continue in silence. (The lion’s share of tech policy ends up in this bucket.)

If you have a niche issue that you care about, now is a great time to donate to orgs that work on it. Lots of money will be funneled to big legacy orgs working on headline issues: ACLU, climate change orgs, etc. Consider sending your donations where they matter most: local, niche, established.

Trump runs his cabinet like the Apprentice. He thrives on chaos and making people compete for his approval. Not only does he not reward collaboration between his subordinates, he actively undermines it.

Moreover, everyone who works with him knows that they’re vulnerable to being thrown under the bus at a moment’s notice, for any reason (or for no reason at all). His cabinet is going to be scorpions in a bottle. They will not be able to coordinate, for good or ill.

One scorpion can still do a lot of horrific damage. But large scale inter-agency coordination is unlikely, particularly after the first few months, by which point he will likely (prediction warning!) have gone through a handful of cabinet secretaries already.

FINALLY: The view from inside civil society heading into 2025.

In 2016, Trump was a largely unknown quantity. The left and establishment right alike wasted a lot of time trying to read tea leaves and make sense of this guy, because he was completely outside the realm of what anyone had dealt with. That’s not happening now.

He did us a favor by broadcasting his plans in advance (aka Project 2025). Civil society has spent the last 2.5 years strategizing around it. We’re not starting off flat-footed.

The Biden admin did a good amount to future-proof its own achievements. Folks can speak to their own areas of expertise, but clean energy and CHIPS and Science Act (investing in domestic semiconductor production) have benefitted from huge sunk investments. That money’s not getting clawed back.

OVERALL TAKE-AWAYS:

It's going to suck. But civil society and the political left have some advantages we didn't have last time. We know him, we know his angles, and we know who he's bringing in--none of which we had in 2016.

We'll get through this. It will be grim, but we'll get through it.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

Thanks Meredith. I really valued your analysis over the past few years, and I think this is a reasonable, actionable framework to think about the upcoming storm

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

I really cannot overstate how much time was (necessarily) wasted in 2017 trying to figure out this guy and his influences. The fact that he's not only a known quantity, but ran the most over-studied administration in this nation's recent history, makes this a very different game.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

I bet we can weaponize his narcissism. Let's say some ghoul starts making progress with a mass deportation effort, if we start calling that ghoul that "shadow president" en masse, Trump would fire him in right away and appoint Hulk Hogan or something

‪Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

This is exactly why I don't think Musk will last very long. Trump is very clear that he's the only one in the room allowed to have an ego or any kind of brand name.

[princesssarisa]

In the past I've shared other people's musings about the different interpretations of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Namely, why Orpheus looks back at Eurydice, even though he knows it means he'll lose her forever. So many people seem to think they've found the one true explanation of the myth. But to me, the beauty of myths is that they have many possible meanings.

So I thought I would share a list of every interpretation I know, from every serious adaptation of the story and every analysis I've ever heard or read, of why Orpheus looks back.

One interpretation – advocated by Monteverdi's opera, for example – is that the backward glance represents excessive passion and a fatal lack of self-control. Orpheus loves Eurydice to such excess that he tries to defy the laws of nature by bringing her back from the dead, yet that very same passion dooms his quest fo fail, because he can't resist the temptation to look back at her.

He can also be seen as succumbing to that classic "tragic flaw" of hubris, excessive pride. Because his music and his love conquer the Underworld, it might be that he makes the mistake of thinking he's entirely above divine law, and fatally allows himself to break the one rule that Hades and Persephone set for him.

Then there are the versions where his flaw is his lack of faith, because he looks back out of doubt that Eurydice is really there. I think there are three possible interpretations of this scenario, which can each work alone or else co-exist with each other. From what I've read about Hadestown, it sounds as if it combines all three.

In one interpretation, he doubts Hades and Persephone's promise. Will they really give Eurydice back to him, or is it all a cruel trick? In this case, the message seems to be a warning to trust in the gods; if you doubt their blessings, you might lose them.

Another perspective is that he doubts Eurydice. Does she love him enough to follow him? In this case, the warning is that romantic love can't survive unless the lovers trust each other. I'm thinking of Moulin Rouge!, which is ostensibly based on the Orpheus myth, and which uses Christian's jealousy as its equivalent of Orpheus's fatal doubt and explicitly states "Where there is no trust, there is no love."

The third variation is that he doubts himself. Could his music really have the power to sway the Underworld? The message in this version would be that self-doubt can sabotage all our best efforts.

But all of the above interpretations revolve around the concept that Orpheus looks back because of a tragic flaw, which wasn't necessarily the view of Virgil, the earliest known recorder of the myth. Virgil wrote that Orpheus's backward glance was "A pardonable offense, if the spirits knew how to pardon."

In some versions, when the upper world comes into Orpheus's view, he thinks his journey is over. In this moment, he's so ecstatic and so eager to finally see Eurydice that he unthinkingly turns around an instant too soon, either just before he reaches the threshold or when he's already crossed it but Eurydice is still a few steps behind him. In this scenario, it isn't a personal flaw that makes him look back, but just a moment of passion-fueled carelessness, and the fact that it costs him Eurydice shows the pitilessness of the Underworld.

In other versions, concern for Eurydice makes him look back. Sometimes he looks back because the upward path is steep and rocky, and Eurydice is still limping from her snakebite, so he knows she must be struggling, in some versions he even hears her stumble, and he finally can't resist turning around to help her. Or more cruelly, in other versions – for example, in Gluck's opera – Eurydice doesn't know that Orpheus is forbidden to look back at her, and Orpheus is also forbidden to tell her. So she's distraught that her husband seems to be coldly ignoring her and begs him to look at her until he can't bear her anguish anymore.

These versions highlight the harshness of the Underworld's law, and Orpheus's failure to comply with it seems natural and even inevitable. The message here seems to be that death is pitiless and irreversible: a demigod hero might come close to conquering it, but through little or no fault of his own, he's bound to fail in the end.

Another interpretation I've read is that Orpheus's backward glance represents the nature of grief. We can't help but look back on our memories of our dead loved ones, even though it means feeling the pain of loss all over again.

Then there's the interpretation that Orpheus chooses his memory of Eurydice, represented by the backward glance, rather than a future with a living Eurydice. "The poet's choice," as Portrait of a Lady on Fire puts it. In this reading, Orpheus looks back because he realizes he would rather preserve his memory of their youthful, blissful love, just as it was when she died, than face a future of growing older, the difficulties of married life, and the possibility that their love will fade. That's the slightly more sympathetic version. In the version that makes Orpheus more egotistical, he prefers the idealized memory to the real woman because the memory is entirely his possession, in a way that a living wife with her own will could never be, and will never distract him from his music, but can only inspire it.

Then there are the modern feminist interpretations, also alluded to in Portrait of a Lady on Fire but seen in several female-authored adaptations of the myth too, where Eurydice provokes Orpheus into looking back because she wants to stay in the Underworld. The viewpoint kinder to Orpheus is that Eurydice also wants to preserve their love just as it was, youthful, passionate, and blissful, rather than subject it to the ravages of time and the hardships of life. The variation less sympathetic to Orpheus is that Euyridice was at peace in death, in some versions she drank from the river Lethe and doesn't even remember Orpheus, his attempt to take her back is selfish, and she prefers to be her own free woman than be bound to him forever and literally only live for his sake.

With that interpretation in mind, I'm surprised I've never read yet another variation. I can imagine a version where, as Orpheus walks up the path toward the living world, he realizes he's being selfish: Eurydice was happy and at peace in the Elysian Fields, she doesn't even remember him because she drank from Lethe, and she's only following him now because Hades and Persephone have forced her to do so. So he finally looks back out of selfless love, to let her go. Maybe I should write this retelling myself.

Are any of these interpretations – or any others – the "true" or "definitive" reason why Orpheus looks back? I don't think so at all. The fact that they all exist and can all ring true says something valuable about the nature of mythology.

[violettaskies]

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 

No. 

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 

What a dream. 

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong. 

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 

You were about to become the death of him tonight. 

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 

“Y-yes, I would be.” 

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 

“More, please.” 

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong. 

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 

Fuck. 

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 

“Let's use a little, Steve.” 

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 

Just the tip — you said the words before. 

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 

“Feels nice.”  

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 

And he did. 

Good god, he did. 

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 

“Another day?” 

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 

-:-:-:-:-

[kisses4reid]

not our scene | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, - part 1

summary - an undercover mission creates distance between you and spencer, but his hands on your waist closes it.

genre - fem!shyish!reader x spencer, forced proximity, fake relationship, awkward idiots, fluff

warnings - awkwardness, general cm violence and gore, spencer and reader are both awkwardly in love with each other and don’t know it yet, mentions of trafficking

w/c - 3.5k

a/n - was writing this in one part and realised i just couldn’t. *jennifer coolidge aoughhe* sorry that its a bit inconsistent with writing style, and its not my best. trying to get back into writing fics longer than 1k.

part two

A familiar scene, an unfamiliar circumstance. The breath mint you swirled around your mouth had now disintegrated in your surprised stillness, your boss Aaron Hotchner passed you a thick case file with an attentive glance. Spencer cleared his throat, “At parties?” 

“Yes,” your boss’ hard voice returned, “The girls are swapped at banquets and ballroom dances, disguised as simple partner swapping.” Aaron turned towards the large panel screen and motioned towards an ID photo of a balding man. “This is Quinn Webley, he controls all transactions and coordinates the parties and most importantly, security.” 

“That’s why Reid and Y/L/n will be undercover. No offence but you two aren’t very noticeable,” Rossi added onto Hotch’s explanation, earning a small snort from Morgan.

There was no doubt more reasons to be chosen than that. Morgan was too impulsive, Emily could get hot-headed, JJ wasn’t trained for it, and Rossi and Hotch simply had to make sure everything went well from the outside. You and Spencer were the best options for this type of case, not only because of your skill, because of the obvious chemistry that you and Spencer shared. “Now, you’re not to make contact with Webley, all you have to do is watch him and everyone else. Pay close attention to couples, older men in small groups, and to the dances that might take place.” Hotch was not giving you or Spencer a chance to object, or to deject the idea. This was set, no negotiation. Not that you would want to be replaced in this case, it was just the fact that you were: 1. A terrible dancer, and 2. Not the most extroverted person. You nodded along, opening the case to create a personal profile of the women who were trafficked, before the discussion had come to a close, and everyone left the room to start collecting their things. 

Spencer cleared his throat, bringing you out of your analysis to meet his warm eyes. Suddenly, the easy-going banter you and Spencer shared had evaporated, replaced by suffocating silence. He didn’t meet your gaze back, only muttering in the silence, “Can I assume you want me to take the lead on this one?” 

“Oh, yes please.” You smile smally, trying to melt the ice that had somehow solidified between you two. Spencer was awkward, introverted, preferred alone time, but you were shy, quiet, and verbally uncoordinated (and physically). 

He nodded and exited the room, sighing off nerves that had piled themselves onto his shoulders since finding out he’d have to go undercover with the one girl he didn’t want to ruin his relationship with. He didn’t think the case would ruin your friendship, but it could make it harder for him to keep it that way.

Spencer stood straight with Derek peering over his shoulder and into the mirror. Derek picked at some dust on Spencer’s suit jacket as the nervous boy attempted to loop his tie neatly. 

Derek chuckles under his breath and turns the boy by his shoulders to face him, lifting his strong hands to help Spencer with the dark crimson red tie. Spencer silently thanked him with a nod.

“What are you so nervous about, Spencer?” He asked, half joking half serious, “It’s just an undercover mission. You’ve done this plenty of times.” 

“Not like this,” Spencer quickly replied, “Not with…” Her. You. 

Derek opened his mouth slightly and nodded, finally understanding the true reason for Spencer’s bouncing leg and sweaty hands. 

“Don’t freak out too much okay? You need to act like you love her, which won’t be too hard- But you need to do it without looking like you’re afraid of her.” Derek finished tying Reid’s tie and patted him on the chest as a hype up, smiling at him brotherly like. He knew Spencer’s feelings for you, that he liked you. A lot. 

He didn’t know Spencer wouldn’t have to act like he loves you. Spencer bit the inside of his lip nervously and turned to the mirror again, taking his eyes over his slightly unfamiliar reflection. 

The suit is tailored perfectly to his body, making him look trim, lean, and tall. Derek handed him a black bottle of cologne and headed for the door, before a sudden question stopped him.

“Do you… do you think she’s too good for me?” Spencer looked at Derek with big eyes, blinking rapidly. The man stood in slight shock before laughing away the silence, shaking his head in disbelief. He knew Spencer wasn’t accusing him of anything, it was a genuine question. Spencer thought he was lesser, less than what you deserved - even if it was just for a night. 

“Pretty boy, I think she’s happier to be doing this than you know. I think she likes you- I know she likes you-“

“That doesn’t mean-“

“Uh uh uh. No. Trust me, Reid,” Derek opened the hotel door and gestured for Spencer to follow him, “If you don’t trust me, ask her yourself.”

The girls whistled loudly at you like a bunch of old men when you emerged from the bathroom. You spun on your heel (which was way too tall for your liking) to entertain the ladies, JJ clapping her hands together and Garcia smiling so hard you felt your own cheeks burn. 

“Why do fake couples always have to be straight, huh?” Emily joked, and you giggled back at her. You crossed your arms over your chest as you turned to face a standing mirror in the corner of the fancy hotel. 

Your body was wrapped in a silky red, floor length dress, with wide and long sleeves draping over your covered arms like a cloud surrounds a mountain. It cinched at your waist, and stopped at just the right length to expose your 4 inch, black heels. You couldn’t deny that you looked incredible, although your nerves were playing with your head. 

“You look stunning,” Garcia repeated what she said when she was doing your makeup - simple and accentuating - when she noticed your slight anxiety.

Dressing up like this and wearing makeup and styling hair? Not your thing. It’s not that you didn’t like it - you loved being girly. It was just your own insecurities and personal preferences that caused you to wear sweaters and sneakers (anything that wouldn’t bring attention to yourself). 

The girls knew this, and dressed you simply and modestly so as to not add to your nerves that an undercover mission usually invites, and you appreciated it greatly. Although the heels were really high.

You were especially nervous to present yourself like this in front of him.

That’s why you fiddled your hands together, why you looked yourself over in the mirror three times before leaving, why you let the girls completely take over your look. 

You walked out into the hallway, pushing some hair behind your shoulder and letting the other side drape, still getting used to walking in those heels, when you were met with more whistles and compliments. Aaron nodded at you, knowing how abrasive you were to the idea at first, and Rossi and Morgan both asked you to give them a spin - and you did. 

The encouragement lifted your spirits slightly, a smile exploding from your face as a soft blush covered it. This is probably the best you’ve looked in front of them. 

“Where’s her date?” JJ asked, she mentioned that Morgan had the job of matching Spencer’s tie but she didn’t trust him.

“Don’t worry, he’s got on the best dark red tie that we could find. He’s downstairs in the foyer.” 

You scrunched your eyebrows together before Hotch added, “You have to leave together just in case. Precautions, okay?” 

Spencer swapped the position of his hands at least five times in a minute, glancing at the elevator in the all too fancy hotel every time someone emerged from it. He adjusted his tie, and sniffed his wrists to make sure he smelt good for you. He always made sure of it, after you offhandedly mentioned to Emily how smells could either make or break your day. 

You had a lot in common with Spencer, other than the obvious career choice. You were both… weird. Talkative around each other, silent around others. Shy, but confident in your abilities. You both had your things - your’s is smell, his is germs.

And luckily, whenever you went to Spencer’s apartment to drop off or pick up a book, his place always smelt like cleaning products and cologne.

Though now, he smelt like cedar wood and smoke. You tapped him on the back, nerves rushing through you like a teenager on her first date. He jumps slightly, not hearing the last elevator ding in his own worries, and turns on his heels - nearly bumping into you. 

“Woah.” He let that simple word slip before he could even bite his tongue, and a red wash painted his cheeks and ears.

You looked stunning, and Spencer was simply awestruck. 

You pushed a straightened piece of hair behind your ears and smiled shyly down at your feet, not letting yourself look at him for too long in fear that you’d melt into a puddle. Spencer cleared his throat to contain himself, and held out his arm for you to thread your own through. 

“Are you okay? Your hands are shaking.” You ask timidly - very unlike how you normally were around him. You avoided taking his arm, scared he’d feel uncomfortable with the contact before he straightened his back and reluctantly pulled your elbow through his. 

“Just nervous, you look-“ He coughed, “Nice.” 

A smile slipped from you as you thanked him quietly, the two of you heading out the large foyer doors and towards a black limousine.

The ride was mostly silent other than the quiet music playing from the radio. And despite the large amount of room in the back, the two of you stayed conjoined at the hips. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re both nervous, maybe it’s the job.

Maybe it’s because you’re both going into a place you’d never purposefully enter. 

“You smell good.” You broke the silence, your knee tapping his. He brought his attention from the window to your face, now noticing the small amount of makeup that accentuated your already beautiful features.

“Thanks. You too.” 

Suddenly, Morgan’s playful voice cut through the weirdly comfortable silence, through to both of your earpieces. “Alright you two. Now, you both know you’ll have to be all lovey-dovey, no acting needed, but don’t over do it. We’re not trying to make contact with Webley, just to get close enough to watch him. If you lose sight of him, hit the dance floor, he and his wife enjoy moving around.” Spencer’s eyes don’t leave your face as you stare at the black floor in concentration. His hands start getting a bit sweaty and he has to clear his throat to coax himself into listening to Morgan. 

“And if he heads for the kitchen, let us know, we’ve got an officer that’s acting as a bodyguard at the back door that can tell us when he’s left.”

Spencer thanks him over the ear piece, holding down a small microphone under his cufflinks. Your hands fiddled with each other, threatening to chip off the nail polish Emily so carefully painted. Spencer felt his heart pump in his chest, but ignored it and took a small mint tin from the inside of his jacket, holding a small white pellet out to you. “Y/n,” he caught your attention and smiled at you sweetly, easing your nerves almost immediately. You took the mint from his palm, your fingertips tracing the lines on his palm softly before you popped it into your mouth. You didn’t have to ask how he knew you needed that, you had grown comfortable with knowing Spencer knew more about you than anyone else in the team. 

The venue was a mansion mixed with a theatre. There were expansive columns lining the outside, countless balconies looking out onto the cityscape, and gardens paired with ponds that were home to some unexpectedly calm swans. You and Spencer both stood there for a few seconds, taking in the architecture, as well as the amount of people entering and exiting the main doors. For a second, you felt giddy and childish. You weaved your arm under his and he let his other hand land over yours to squeeze it gently - he must feel just out of place but weirdly excited as you are. 

Don’t lose sight of the real priority here, Y/n. 

But it’s hard to do that when you’re entering the conjuring of your childhood dreams. 

When you start walking up the large stairs, your heels click and Spencer tightens his arm slightly, your stepping becoming a little uneven. These damn heels. 

“You okay?” He asked, one eyebrow raised slightly. His hair was combed back, his long locks more tamed than usual, but one curly strand just escaped and covered the left side of his forehead. It looked effortless, handsome.

“Um- Yeah, sorry. I’m not used to shoes like this.” You laughed like it's funny and Spencer continued to basically lift you up the stairs with no complaining.

When you stepped foot into the main foyer of the building, there were multiple chandeliers that swayed safely in the bustling movement of the quartz floor. There were multiple vases of red and white flowers, almost matching your dress, and multiple suited guards at every entrance and staircase. They smile at guests, and offer them menus and directions, and smartly conceal their weapons in case of intruders. Intruders being you and Spencer.

When Spencer leads you up to them, his hands finally still and confident, the guards smile at you both - offering you an extra look over that has Spencer angling himself to cover you. 

“Names?” One of them asked, pulling out a checklist from behind his back (you almost thought they were pulling out their small guns - you really were not confident in how to act… well… confident.) 

“Mr and Mrs Conner.” 

“First names?” 

First names? You weren’t given first names. Garcia had made sure that nobody else on the guestlist was by the last name of Conner. You could practically see the cogs churning in Spencer’s head - creativity wasn’t really his strong point. 

“Did you just ask for our first names?” You scoff, your voice becoming a bit whinier than usual, “You obviously live under a rock, there are no other Coopers.” 

The guard widened his eyes, scanning the list again and stuttering, “I’m sorry ma’am. You’re obviously- Have a good night.” The guard lifted an arm as an invitation inside, and you gave him a glare. Spencer smiled once you were both out of sight and squeezed your hand with his own. But there are no words, as you’re too taken aback by the sheer size and beauty of the room, if you could even call it that, to focus on the contact. Even larger chandeliers, expansive marble floors and painted ceilings with naked bodies. The warm lighting nearly convinced you that this was just some rich party that people get drunk at and talk about nonsense, but Hotch suddenly talking in your earpieces brought you out of the spell that the pure aesthetics had lured you with. “In the back left of the dance floor, you’ll see Webley dancing with his wife, talking to a pair of aristocrats. Try to get closer, don’t be obvious.”

You released a breath and Spencer adjusted his arms to intertwine his fingers with yours, causing you to meet his gaze in surprise. “We’re in love, remember?” His eyes creased with a smile, his thumb caressing the back of your hand in comforting patterns you couldn’t decipher. Oh, you couldn’t forget that. “Right,” you respond, straightening your back and walking with him towards the dance floor. 

His hands carefully rested on your waist, his fingers gripping slightly against the silky fabric of your dress. The contact made your skin burn, a permanent pink painting your cheeks and increasing whenever you made eye contact with the tall and undeniably good looking man you were dancing with. Spencer didn’t look anywhere other than you and the back left of the dance floor. You had almost grown bored of the nerves in your heart before you noticed something you didn’t see before. 

“Hey, your tie matches my dress.” You said softly, barely audible over the music that echoed around the hall. Spencer glanced down at his tie (thankfully still properly tied) and then at your dress. That was a mistake, because now his breathing is deeper and he can’t take his eyes off of you. 

Spencer nodded and sent you a small smile, “Morgan made sure of it.” 

“Didn’t that spoil it for you?” You asked, finally meeting his gaze. It looked deep, it looked… heavy. 

His swirling brown eyes shot electricity at you when he replied, “Why would it be spoiled?” 

You lowered your head away as you smiled sheepishly, “This is probably the nicest I’ve ever been in front of you. Probably wasn’t as special as I wanted it to be.” 

“You wanted it to be special?” You felt his fingers twitch on your waist as your own fingers twiddled with each other behind his neck. You lifted your face and found him clearing his throat, “I mean, it was still special. Although, I disagree with it being the nicest you’ve ever look.” 

You laughed, and it caused Spencer to crack a smile. 

“I show up to work bare-faced, in second-hand pants and sweaters two times my size. I feel like this is pretty good.” 

“You always look good.” 

You almost stopped your soft swaying with him in shock, and Spencer’s cheek reddened as if he was also shocked he said it. Spencer cleared his throat again, and bit the inside of his lip. 

The others couldn’t hear them right now. The music was soft, people chattered and to be honest, the whole mission had been erased from his mind. Spencer took a long, deep breath.

“I think you look beautiful right now, of course. But you’re still beautiful when you’re dressed like how you like to. I know what it feels like to not want to bring attention to yourself, and how sometimes your clothes can hide you. But…” Spencer stopped your movements with his hands lowering to your hips, he had been instinctively pulling you closer throughout the dance. “There’s nothing you could do, or wear, that could possibly take my attention off of you.” 

You felt your world stand still, although the blur of people didn’t seize, and fluttered your eyelashes at him unsure of how to respond. It was the most he’s spoken to you in one time - excluding random facts and the babbling you accept everyday.

“Spencer…” 

The tall man raised his hands to your waist again, the motion leaving waves of nerves to tumble over you, before he cleared his throat and started darting his eyes from yours to someone’s in the background. 

“Y/n. I think I saw Webley.” His grip only slightly tightened on your silk dress, his fingers curling slightly to move you across the dance floor slowly. You were definitely the more uncoordinated of you two. 

He moved skilfully across the dance floor, avoiding bodies and feet like it was rehearsed. 

“Not too close.” You muttered, Spencer’s attention flickering to you for only a second to nod in agreement. You need to watch him, not make contact with him. 

You grimace slightly, your ankle wobbling at an awkward angle for a second before you recover and-

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

You meet his eyes again, his own already burning a hole through you and your heels. 

“I’m fine, again it’s just the heels.” 

“They seem to be causing you a lot of harm,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and cleared his throat. Maybe he can distract you. “Did you know that heeled shoes were originally designed for Medieval Soldiers? They were made to make rising horses easier, putting a heel in the stirrups instead of your armoured shoe. And in the 16th century they weren’t supposed to be… to be seen…” He rambled and stopped abruptly.

He didn’t stop because you told him to, or you looked annoyed, or you lost interest. He stopped because you looked… too good to say anything. It made him nervous like a school boy seeing his crush in her prom dress - although he never got to experience that. It felt pretty close.

You tilted your head, a piece of straightened, silky hair falling over your shoulder. Spencer gulped, and before he could stop himself, he lifted a hand and twirled the piece in his pointer finger. 

It was like an optical illusion, something you know can’t be real, but intrigued you anyways. That’s what you felt, because whatever was happening right now could not be real. 

Spencer Reid looked entranced, hypnotised without knowing. And you looked red. 

“Th-they weren’t supposed to be seen?” 

Spencer snapped out of his trance but didn’t continue, only pulling you forward by the waist and moving that strand behind your ear. Your heart pumped, your ears matching the colour of your dress. 

He didn’t try to kiss you, even if he wanted to so badly. Instead, he lowered his lips to the shell of your ear and whispered, “Let’s go. Webley opened the kitchen door.” 

And your heart dropped.

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna

[aroace-number-eight]

After I finish the quizzes for the celebration I need to finally do my analysis of the books for real because now that I'm officially reading the books again for the second time (first time way back in 2016) with the knowledge I have now..

Holy shit there's a lot I genuinely didn't notice

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act I, Scene II: The Crude Suggestion)

A provocative joke leads Spencer to contemplate, yet ultimately avoid, a crucial conversation with you.

Part warning: a little suggestive comment and two idiots being stubborn Words: 2.1k A/n: I want to remind you that each part doesn’t necessarily follow one another, the story focuses on their relationship and not on the cases being told. This is just a collection of shenanigans and nothing too serious!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about being in the middle of nowhere for a case. Maybe not exactly nowhere—you knew where you were, you could pinpoint this city on a map, but there wasn’t the same bustle and constant noise you were used to in Quantico. The relative quiet was unsettling, yet oddly comforting.

Although nothing was comforting about checking the crime scene deep in a forest in broad daylight. It was a small, unnaturally circular clearing where the grass was trampled down in places, and in the center was the remains of what you were there to investigate.

“So,” you started, your eyes scanning the place. “Do you think the Unsub uses these remote areas to avoid detection, or is he just a fan of the great—albeit bland—outdoors?”

Spencer glanced at you from the other side of the clearing.

“Statistically speaking, the isolation could serve to minimize the risk of witnesses. However, it’s also plausible that the Unsub finds comfort in solitude. Or maybe he just dislikes traffic.”

“Dislikes traffic,” you repeated, deadpan. “Yes, because serial killers are really just misunderstood commuters.”

Just as Spencer was about to retort with what you assumed would be a wildly thrilling statistic about traffic patterns and criminal behavior, Emily’s voice cut through the tension. “Can’t you two ever not bicker for more than five minutes?”

You turned to her. “I’m just trying to get a straightforward answer. But apparently, that’s too much to ask for.”

“I’m giving you a range of possibilities, which is what profiling is about. Sorry if that’s too complicated for you to understand.”

“Oh, I understand completely,” you replied, matching his tone. “I just find that half of your theories are unnecessary.”

Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “The depth of analysis ensures we don’t overlook anything. It’s thorough, not unnecessary.”

“You call it thorough. I call it overthinking.”

Emily stepped between you, raising a hand. “Alright, enough. Can we focus on the case now?”

“He started it,” you couldn’t resist muttering under your breath as you moved to another part of the clearing.

“Me? You were the one who—”

Emily cut him off with a loud, exasperated sigh, tilting her head back as if seeking divine intervention, before turning her gaze sharply back to both of you.

“Most people go to therapy to deal with this much-unresolved tension,” she remarked dryly. Then, fixing you with a pointed look, she added, “You know what else might help?”

You frowned, glancing towards her. “What?”

Emily paused dramatically, her gaze shifting from you to Spencer and back again at you, lingering a little too long. She didn’t say anything, but the way she raised her brows and the smirk playing on her lips, you knew what she was implying. It was as if there was an unspoken code that only years of friendship between women could understand.

You looked away, a slight burn along our cheeks.

Spencer, still oblivious, looked from Emily to you, confusion written all over his face. "What? What are you talking about?”

“Well—”

“No!” You stopped her. “Don’t listen to her.”

Spencer’s confusion deepened, his gaze shifting from you to Emily, trying to decipher the underlying message. Emily’s smirk only widened, clearly enjoying the discomfort she’d stirred up.

“You should ask Y/N,” she said, her tone teasing. “I’m sure she knows some great ideas for... tension relief.”

You felt your face heat up even more, and you shot Emily a warning look, partly annoyed and partly embarrassed by her insinuation. But she simply just laughed, and when a sudden car pulled up near them, Emily found a way to escape.

“Oh, look, the sheriff is here,” she said, swiftly changing the subject. “You guys check the area while I talk to him.”

Emily walked off to meet the sheriff, leaving you and Spencer alone in awkward silence. You turned away, eager to divert your attention back to work when you felt him hang back slightly to walk with you.

He seemed to hesitate before speaking. “What was she referring to?”

You glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction, wondering if he was genuinely confused or just looking for a way to keep the conversation light.

"Nothing," you replied with a dismissive shrug, keeping your eyes on the ground ahead. “She was joking.”

“I could tell, but what about?”

You paused, realizing that the vague explanations weren't going to satisfy him this time. His analytical mind was both a blessing and a curse in moments like these.

"She was suggesting—jokingly—that we might relieve our constant bickering... through more unconventional methods."

"Unconventional methods?"

“Sex, Reid. She was implying sex.”

His face instantly turned a shade of red, perhaps deeper than you had ever seen before. He blinked a few times, clearly taken aback by the bluntness of your clarification.

"Oh," he managed to stutter out, the usual fluency of his speech faltering under the weight of the topic. He bit his bottom lip, a nervous habit that you had come to recognize as his attempt to buy time while he gathered his thoughts. 

“That’s…”

“Crazy, right?” You pressed on. “I mean, nothing good will come out if we start blurring pleasure and professional lines like that.”

There, you said it, an underlining of your words that carried more weight than the immediate conversation. You wondered if he understood your double meaning, and maybe he did, because his gaze met yours sharply.

He exhaled, his demeanor shifting as he processed not just Emily's joke but also the deeper reference to that night—the one neither of you spoke about but still lingered between you.

“Right,” he finally responded, his voice firm, yet there was a hint of something else you couldn’t quite decipher. “Nothing good at all.”

“It would only complicate things.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

“The worst.”

For a moment, you both stood there, the forest around you fading into the background. You broke the silence first, turning away from him. "We should finish up here. There's still a lot of ground to cover."

With those words, you moved ahead, feeling his gaze on your back. The crunch of leaves under his steps echoed as he followed in silence.

It would only complicate things… as if it wasn’t already complicated in the first place.

Spencer looked over to where you stood; it was clear you were trying to avoid him for the past hour. He watched as you meticulously examined every leaf and twig, your focus seeming more like an escape than an investigation.

He knew he should say something, perhaps bridge the gap with an apology or an olive branch of some sort, but every potential word seemed to catch in his throat. It seemed like a constant cycle of hesitation and missed opportunities. Every time he thought to speak, doubt would claw its way back, holding him silent. 

He wondered if perhaps it was the same for you.

“Hey,” Emily’s voice filled the silence as she joined back. “Did you find anything?”

Spencer’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted by Emily’s arrival. He straightened up, quickly shifting his focus back to the present. He gestured towards the markings on the ground that you both had been examining.

“We might have found something.” 

Emily crouched beside you, eyes scanning the evidence with practiced ease. “You think this is from our Unsub?”

You nodded, offering the specifics, “The pattern and depth suggest it’s not natural. And the spacing might give us an idea about the size and weight of the Unsub.”

“I’ll get the forensics team to take a closer look.” She stood up, looking between you and Spencer. “You two okay here?”

“Yes, we’re fine,” Spencer answered quickly, a bit too eagerly. You simply nodded without saying a word.

“Alright, maybe I like it better when you both bicker.”

He saw you shrug nonchalantly. “I’m gonna check the other side,” you announced before walking away.

"She's avoiding me," he stated, a note of helplessness threading through his voice.

“Can you blame her?”

“What?” He asked, his voice tinged with defensiveness. “So it's my fault?”

“Well… did you do anything wrong?”

There was a pause before he glanced away, his mind racing through that night. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice low, almost reluctant. 

"There you go, you have your answer.” 

He shifted from one foot to the other, visibly uncomfortable, as his fingers twitched at his sides. “Do you think we’re overreacting?”

She sighed. “Look, I don't know the details of what happened, and as much as I want to help, it’s between you two. The way I see it, you have two options: either resolve the problem or continue bickering.”

He frowned, mulling over her words. He glanced toward you and faltered for a moment, noticing the glare you were throwing him even from the other side of the clearing. It was clear you didn’t want to engage in any type of conversation with him.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to stick with bickering.”

Emily laughed. “Really? You don’t want to consider my suggestion earlier?” When she caught the blush creeping on his cheeks, her grin widened. “Finally caught on what I meant?”

His blush deepened, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Oh, yeah, well, that's definitely not an appropriate solution," he stammered, trying to regain his composure. Collecting himself, he latched onto a more comfortable territory—facts. 

"Actually, according to a study, about 20% of workplace relationships lead to marriage, but they can also significantly complicate professional dynamics, increasing the potential for conflicts of interest.”

Emily simply smiled, clearly amused at how flustered he was. Her silence only urged him to continue.

"And, well, that doesn't even begin to cover the fallout if things don't work out. The workplace can become, um, a challenging environment for both parties involved. It's just... it's tricky."

Spencer winced to himself, because ironically, the fallout was already happening. The situation he was theorizing about in vague terms was unfolding right in front of him.

"It sounds like you're speaking from experience.”

“I’m not!” He responded almost too fast. “I’m not.”

She studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed his reaction. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the ground. The quick denial had been too sharp, too reflexive, and now he felt cornered by his own reactions.

“I’m not,” he insisted again. “I just... I mean, I've read a lot about it. You know, studies, research papers, it's nothing personal."

Emily nodded slowly, not entirely convinced but choosing not to push further. "If you say so.”

Her eyes lingered on him for a while, and when she realized the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, she turned around and left him.

“Where are you going?”

“Comforting her,” she called out, walking backward. “Something you should’ve done.”

He watched Emily walk away, her words stinging more than he wanted to admit. Then his eyes traveled to you, and it was as if you could sense his lingering stare, you looked up and met his gaze.

Anger. Annoyance. It was what he caught in your eyes before you quickly masked it with a neutral expression. The intensity of that brief exchange was enough to make him realize just how deep the rift between you had gone.

Spencer knew talking about it was the mature thing to do, but he also feared that bringing up that conversation might only open another can of worms. He felt stuck, unsure if addressing the issue would heal or harm. So he went back to being a coward and turned in the opposite direction.

It was for the better. You didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

[simping-acefully]

Ep 3 got me acting really unwise

Nsfw headcanons for Laios under the cut (gn unspecified partner for Laios)

Warnings: NSFWish, probably ooc, reader insert implied?, probably not very sexy because I used this for character analysis.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Laios is very attentive, though he's also very insecure when it comes to engaging with others. So I imagine he'd be a little clumsy, though very eager to provide the best aftercare for his partner. He's also very cuddly.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

The favorite part of his own body are his hands. They are strong and calloused, and he's used them to protect others and to create new stuff! (Aka, cooking) the fact that those hands can also help him please a partner is a plus.

On a partner? Probably lips. I imagine Laios struggles to read people's facial expressions (the 'tism go brr) but seeing his partner's smile is reassuring. He also really likes running his thumb over them and maybe getting his fingers nibbled.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums a lot.He has tasted his own cum out of curiosity in the past, too. And if he had a partner that ejaculated or squirted he would be delighted to taste it all.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has probably jerked off to thoughts of his partner before they get together and it's eating him alive :(

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Zero experience, lots of book knowledge though! He's confused but he's got the spirit. Will need some leading at first, but he's a quick learner and is curious enough to experiment and try new things once he's gained confidence.

As an ace myself, I like to think that Laios is either ace too, or has a low drive and thus, sexual intimacy is a matter of doing something intimate and unique with a partner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that will allow him to see his partner's face for smooching! The emotional intimacy is the most important part for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He tries to be serious to the point he's almost uptight. But his clumsy and eager nature ends up organically devolving into somewhat goofy intimacy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpet matches the drapes, but this man keeps it all natural because ?? Why would he waste time/energy on such things??? (Aka, he's not used to grooming the area, but he would do an effort if asked)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very!! The main driving force for the act. Laios is constantly kissing and checking with his partner. He loves them so much and this is a physical way to convey those feelings!

He holds hands with his partner, kisses their face and neck and tries to keep them as close as possible, the mental image of melting into a puddle together comes to mind.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn't do it often, but when he does it's more of a thing of connecting with his own body than getting rid of any urges. He won't be able to get off unless he's in a good mood.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Has a wee bit of a praise kink that he doesn't fully understand.

Shibari is one he wants to delve into, too. There's something to be said about the artistry of the knots, and the feeling of compression can be quite comforting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Probably his partner's bed. He shares a room with Falin, so intimacy on his place is a no-no. He doesn't particularly enjoy motels or inns either because he feels kind of self conscious/pressured to perform within a time limit. He was to take things slow and he wants to cuddle to sleep afterwards, dammit!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I think his biggest driving force is an emotional connection. He craves to be understood and loved, so feeling that coming from his partner will make him want to show his appreciation in a physical way.

Probably jealousy is another good way to make Laios seek out his partner. He wants reassurance, to kill any doubts in his mind and any lingering feelings of inadequacy.

Also adrenaline too! Sometimes when the blood is pumping, his mind wanders. If he and his partner just were in a situation of danger, the physical reminder that they are there, alive and safe will make him desperate to feel them.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Doesn't like/understand degradation, and wouldn't do anything that he felt could hurt his partner.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give, and lives for pleasing his partner! He's not very skilled at first, but he's very observant and receptive, so he gets the hang of what his partner likes even if they do not say so themselves.

However, after getting head himself, he's hooked. He loves it, he loves the look on his partner's eyes and the physical feeling is overwhelming on the best possible way.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually slow and sensual, unless he just had a life or death situation with his partner, then he's desperate and anxious.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not one to really go for quickies, but if he's on the rare mood for one, he'll be sure to get and give lots of affection.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Laios would be interested in trying everything at least once. He's curious and inquisitive, and just as he is fascinated by monsters, he's fascinated by his partner and wants to learn what turns them on, and see what also works for him

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Stamina for days! He can last one very long round. If he didn't get sleepy and cuddly afterwards, he could probably do more, but hnnnggg comfy

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't own toys, but if introduced to them he's up for trying pretty much anything, both on himself and his partner.

I can see him growing particularly attached to non-human looking dildos/strap-ons and ropes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's not much of a tease, but he low-key enjoys being teased. He doesn't seem to understand it, or be fully aware of the fact, but yeah.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not particularly loud out the impulse to self restrain, but Laios is a whiner. He can get pretty loud when he's about to cum though.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Would love to roleplay as a monster with their partner but when he did bring up the idea he got laughed off and passed it off as a joke. It was not a joke.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I like to think that it would kind of mimic his silhouette, length slightly above average and overall on the thicker side. The widest point is right after the head.

Not very high at all. I kinda imagine Laios on the gray sexual spectrum so, it only becomes a thought after he begins pining for his eventual partner. It starts with him wondering how soft their hands would be, how about their neck and lips? And it eventually escalates to wandering thoughts of intimacy.

Once he does become intimate with a partner, he longs for intimacy more than he longs for sex itself.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

VERY. He's an eepy man.

[lilacwants]

it had to be you.

notes: aaron is one of my favs & this frank sinatra song reminds me of him!! enjoy :’)💗 summary: hotch unexpectedly falls for his intelligent and kind coworker, discovering love in an unlikely place. warnings: aaron being a softie, tooth-rotting fluff.

Aaron Hotchner was not a man who believed in serendipity. As Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, his life was governed by logic, structure, and an unwavering commitment to justice. Emotions, especially romantic ones, were neatly compartmentalized, kept under strict control. That is, until you walked into his life.

It was a Wednesday morning, the BAU office bustling with activity. Agents were preparing for the latest case, the sound of clicking keyboards and hushed conversations filling the air. Hotch was in his office, reviewing a case file when you knocked on the door, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

"Got a minute?" you asked, your eyes reflecting both determination and warmth.

"Of course, come in," he replied, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.

You closed the door behind you and took a seat, placing a folder in front of him. "I think I found something in the victimology that might tie the cases together."

Hotch took the folder and began to review the contents. As he read through your meticulous notes, he couldn't help but be impressed by your keen insights and thoroughness. It wasn't the first time he admired your work, but today, something felt different. There was an unfamiliar flutter in his chest, one that he quickly brushed aside.

"This is excellent," he said, looking up to meet your gaze. "I think you're right. This could be the link we've been missing."

You smiled, a genuine expression that reached your eyes. "Glad I could help. Should we present this to the team?"

"Yes, let's do that," Hotch replied, rising from his seat. He followed you out of the office, his mind lingering on the way your presence seemed to light up the room.

As the days turned into weeks, Hotch found himself drawn to you in ways he hadn't anticipated. It wasn't just your intelligence and dedication that captivated him; it was the way you treated everyone with kindness, the way your laughter filled the room, the way you made even the darkest days seem a little brighter.

One evening, after a particularly grueling case, the team decided to unwind at a nearby bar. Hotch usually kept his distance during such gatherings, preferring to maintain his professional boundaries. But tonight, something pulled him to join in. As he entered the bar, he spotted you sitting at a table with the rest of the team, your laughter ringing out above the din.

"Hotch, over here!" you called, waving him over.

He smiled and made his way to the table, taking a seat beside you. The conversation flowed easily, and for once, Hotch allowed himself to relax. As the night wore on, he found himself stealing glances at you, each one reinforcing the growing realization that you were different. Special.

When the team began to disperse, you and Hotch were left alone at the table. You looked at him, a question in your eyes. "Walk me to my car?"

"Of course," he replied, standing up and offering his hand. You took it, and the simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through him.

The walk to the parking lot was filled with easy conversation, but there was an undercurrent of something more. As you reached your car, you turned to face him, your expression serious yet tender.

"Aaron," you began, your voice soft, "I've been meaning to tell you something."

He held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "What is it?"

You smiled, a touch of nervousness in your eyes. "I... I think I'm falling for you."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Hotch felt a rush of emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear that," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I'm falling for you too."

You took a step closer, your hand finding his. "So, what do we do now?"

Hotch smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. "We take it one day at a time.”

As you stood there under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, Hotch realized that sometimes, the most unexpected moments led to the most beautiful outcomes. And in that moment, he knew that meeting you was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

[kiesbrainjuice]

— HOW THEY WOULD BE AT YOUR FIRST MATCH AS HIS GIRLFRIEND ! nekoma

pairings (separate) : kenma x fem!reader; kuroo x fem!reader; yamamoto x fem!reader

warnings : none, pure fluff

synopsis : with their team they assist to one of your match for the first time as your boyfriend and how they act.

word count : 1.4k

As……sat with the rest of the Nekoma volleyball team, observing your match together for the first time as a couple, the gymnasium was alive with the energy of competition. The squeaking of shoes on the polished floor, the sharp smacks of palm against volleyball, and the thunderous cheers from the crowd created an electric atmosphere. Each member of the team had their own distinct reactions and interactions, adding depth and commentary to the scene unfolding on the court.

KOZUME KENMA

Kenma, with his usual composed demeanor and sharp focus, was sitting attentively, his cat-like yellow eyes fixed on you as you moved across the court with agility and skill. His fingers twitched slightly, as if itching to set a ball himself. Beside him, Kuroo Tetsurou, Nekoma's charismatic captain and Kenma's closest friend, couldn't resist teasing him.

"Hey, Kenma," Kuroo whispered teasingly, nudging him lightly with an elbow. "Looks like you've got yourself quite the talented girlfriend there. Bet she could kick your ass on the court, huh?"

Kenma glanced at Kuroo, a faint blush tinting his cheeks, though his expression remained calm. "Shut up, asshole," he replied softly, a hint of pride in his voice as he watched you execute a perfect receive.

On Kenma's other side, Yamamoto Taro, the enthusiastic and lively wing spiker, leaned forward eagerly, nearly falling off his seat in excitement. His mohawk seemed to quiver with each point you scored.

"Holy shit, did you see that spike?" Yamamoto exclaimed, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and excitement. "Your girl's a fucking beast out there, Kenma!"

Lev Haiba, the towering middle blocker known for his straightforward nature, nodded enthusiastically, his long legs bouncing with pent-up energy. "Damn straight! I wish I could spike like her," he remarked, his admiration evident as he watched your every move with awe. "Maybe she could teach me a thing or two, eh Kenma?"

Yaku Morisuke, the meticulous libero with a keen eye for detail, observed with a nod of approval. His sharp eyes followed your movements, analyzing your technique with professional interest.

"Her defensive plays are solid as fuck," Yaku noted, his voice quiet yet filled with appreciation for your technique and strategy. "She's got some serious skills, no wonder Kenma's into her."

Inuoka Sou, the energetic and enthusiastic wing spiker who often wore his heart on his sleeve, leaned towards Lev with a mischievous grin. His spiky hair seemed to bristle with excitement as he watched the match.

"Hey Lev, think she'd mind dating a guy who's always this hyper?" he joked, earning a playful shove from Lev in response. "Or is she more into the quiet, brooding type like our Kenma here?"

Kenma, who was usually more focused on strategy and analysis, found himself enjoying the banter and camaraderie of his teammates. Despite his reserved nature, he appreciated the playful teasing and supportive atmosphere they created around him. However, as the match progressed and the comments became more frequent, he started to feel a bit overwhelmed.

Kuroo, noticing Kenma's growing discomfort, couldn't help but push a little further. "Come on, Kenma, spill the beans. How'd a gaming nerd like you land such a hottie?"

That struck a nerve with Kenma, who was feeling a bit more sensitive than usual. His fingers clenched tightly around the edge of his seat, knuckles turning white.

"For fuck's sake, Kuroo, can you lay off?" he muttered, his tone sharper than intended. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes briefly narrowing as he refocused on the match, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks.

Yamamoto, sensing Kenma's discomfort, quickly changed the subject, trying to lighten the mood. His voice boomed across their section of the bleachers, drawing curious glances from nearby spectators.

"Holy crap, look at that save!" he exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically. "[Name] really knows how to keep us on our toes. She's got reflexes like a damn cat!"

Lev, noticing Kenma's reaction, exchanged a concerned glance with Inuoka. His usual carefree expression sobered as he realized they might have taken the teasing too far.

"Hey, Kenma, sorry if we're being assholes," Lev said sincerely, his usual straightforward demeanor softened. "We're just stoked for you, you know?"

Kenma glanced at Lev, his expression softening slightly. The tension in his shoulders eased a bit as he realized his teammates' intentions were good, even if their execution was lacking.

"It's fine," he replied quietly, his tone more resigned now. "Just… dial it back a notch, okay?"

Yaku, ever perceptive, decided to steer the conversation back to the game. He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving the court as he spoke.

"Alright, you bunch of idiots, let's focus on supporting [Name]," he suggested calmly, his voice a reassuring presence amidst the playful banter. "Save the relationship gossip for later, yeah?"

As the match continued, Kenma gradually eased back into his usual focused state, his mind analyzing the game and your strategic plays. He appreciated his teammates' support and their willingness to lift his spirits, even when their teasing occasionally rubbed him the wrong way.

Throughout the rest of the match, the gymnasium echoed with cheers and encouragement from the Nekoma team. Kuroo's strategic insights, Yamamoto's enthusiastic shouts, Lev's amazed gasps, Yaku's approving nods, and Inuoka's excited commentary all blended together, creating a symphony of support for you on the court.

Kenma found himself swept up in the excitement, his usual reserved demeanor giving way to small smiles and quiet words of encouragement. He realized that despite their occasional teasing and crude language, he was lucky to have teammates who cared about him and respected his feelings, making the experience of being your boyfriend and a member of the Nekoma team all the more meaningful.

As the final whistle blew and you emerged victorious, Kenma felt a surge of pride. He stood up with the rest of his team, ready to congratulate you on your win, grateful for the unique and boisterous family he had found in Nekoma.

TESTURO KUROO

Amidst this chaos, Kuroo Tetsurou sat with his team, his sharp hazel eyes fixed on the court where you were playing. It was the first time he was watching you compete since you'd started dating, and the usually composed captain found himself on the edge of his seat.

Kuroo's wild black hair seemed even more disheveled than usual, a testament to the number of times he'd run his hands through it in excitement. His trademark smirk played on his lips, widening every time you made a particularly impressive play. The red jersey of Nekoma stretched across his broad shoulders as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Beside him, Kenma Kozume sat hunched over his handheld game, the blue light illuminating his face. Despite his apparent disinterest, Kenma's cat-like eyes flicked up to the court periodically. During a lull in the game, he nudged Kuroo with his elbow.

"Your girlfriend's not half bad," Kenma muttered, thumbs still working the controls of his game. "Maybe she could teach you a thing or two about receiving."

Kuroo's grin widened, revealing teeth that glinted in the gymnasium's harsh lighting. "Oya? Sounds like someone's jealous. Don't worry, Kenma, you're still my favorite setter. No one sets a ball quite like you do."

Yamamoto Taketora, sitting on Kuroo's other side, was a stark contrast to Kenma's calm. The wing spiker was practically vibrating with excitement, his mohawk quivering with each enthusiastic movement. He leaned forward so far he was almost falling off his seat, eyes wide as saucers.

"Holy shit, Kuroo!" Yamamoto bellowed, his voice carrying over the crowd noise. "Did you see that spike? Your girl's a fucking monster! She just blew past their blockers like they were standing still!"

Kuroo chuckled, a deep, rich sound that rumbled in his chest. "Language, Yamamoto," he admonished without any real heat. "But yeah, she's pretty incredible, isn't she?" Pride colored his voice, his eyes softening as they followed your movements on the court.

Lev Haiba, all 194 centimeters of him folded awkwardly into the spectator seats, craned his neck to see over the heads in front of him. His green eyes were wide with wonder, a childlike enthusiasm painted across his features.

"Kuroo-san," Lev called out, voice filled with awe, "do you think she'd teach me how to spike like that? It was so cool! The ball just went 'whoosh' and then 'bam'!"

"In your dreams, string bean," Kuroo laughed, reaching over to ruffle Lev's silver hair. "You've got a long way to go before you're on her level. Maybe focus on receiving first, eh?"

Yaku Morisuke, the team's libero, sat with his arms crossed, a look of professional appreciation on his face. His sharp eyes hadn't left the court once, analyzing every move and play.

"Her receives are solid as fuck," Yaku commented, nodding approvingly. "She's got quick reflexes and good form. No wonder she caught your eye, Kuroo. You always did have a thing for skilled players."

"What can I say?" Kuroo shrugged, his casual tone belying the warmth in his eyes as he watched you seamlessly transition from defense to offense. "I've got excellent taste. In volleyball and in partners."

Inuoka Sou, unable to contain his excitement, was practically bouncing in his seat. His spiky hair seemed to stand even more on end as he turned to Kuroo, eyes shining with curiosity.

"Man, Kuroo-san, how'd you score such a badass girlfriend?" Inuoka asked, voice filled with a mixture of awe and mischief. "Did you use some of that sneaky captain charm? Or was it the hair?"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning decidedly mischievous. The gymnasium lights caught the angles of his face, accentuating his sharp features. "Now, now, Inuoka. A gentleman never kisses and tells. But let's just say my killer looks and sparkling personality didn't hurt. Plus, I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be."

The team erupted in a mixture of groans and laughter. Even Kenma looked up from his game, rolling his eyes but unable to completely hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

"Your head's getting too big, Kuro," Kenma muttered, using the childhood nickname that only he was allowed to use. "It'll affect your jump serves. You won't be able to get off the ground."

"Aw, don't be like that, Kenma," Kuroo grinned, draping a long arm around his friend's shoulders and pulling him close despite Kenma's half-hearted protests. "You know you love me. Who else would set for you during our late-night practices?"

As the match progressed, the team's commentary became more animated. Kuroo found himself caught between watching you play and managing his rambunctious teammates, his captain instincts kicking in even off the court.

"Oi, Lev!" Kuroo barked, noticing the first-year's wandering attention. "Stop drooling and pay attention to her footwork. You might actually learn something useful for once."

Lev straightened up so quickly he almost toppled backwards, eyes wide. "Yes, Kuroo-san! I'll watch carefully!"

Yamamoto, never one to miss an opportunity for mischief, leaned in with a sly grin on his face. "So, captain," he drawled, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "when are you gonna show us some of those moves off the court? You must have some pretty smooth lines to land a girl like that."

Kuroo's eyes narrowed playfully, a dangerous glint in them that made Yamamoto gulp. "Careful, Yamamoto. Don't make me assign you extra diving drills at practice. I'm sure Yaku would be more than happy to spike for you."

"Shit, sorry!" Yamamoto backpedaled quickly, hands up in surrender. "Just curious, you know? No harm meant!"

Yaku snorted from his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "As if Kuroo needs any encouragement to show off. He's got an ego the size of Tokyo Tower."

"You wound me, Yaku," Kuroo placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt, his expression one of exaggerated pain. "I'm the very picture of modesty. A paragon of humility. A beacon of-"

"Bullshit," Kenma interrupted, not looking up from his game.

This elicited a chorus of disbelieving snorts and chuckles from the team. Even Kuroo couldn't keep a straight face, his laugh joining the others.

As the match neared its end, the energy in the gymnasium reached a fever pitch. The score was close, and every point was crucial. Kuroo found himself on his feet, previous cool demeanor forgotten as he shouted encouragement.

"Come on, babe! Show 'em what you've got!" he yelled, voice hoarse from cheering. His fists were clenched at his sides, body tense as if he could will you to victory through sheer force of will. "You've got this! One more point!"

When the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory, Kuroo let out a whoop of joy that was nearly drowned out by the roar of the crowd. He turned to his team, grinning from ear to ear, pride and excitement radiating from every pore.

"That's my girl," he said, voice filled with a intoxicating mixture of pride, admiration, and a hint of playful challenge. "Think any of you can top that performance? Because that, gentlemen, is what we're aiming for."

Lev, ever eager to prove himself, jumped up so quickly he knocked Inuoka's drink over. "I'll train hard, Kuroo-san! I'll be just as amazing someday! Maybe even better!"

"That's the spirit, rookie," Kuroo laughed, slinging an arm around Lev's shoulders. Despite the height difference, Kuroo managed to make the gesture look effortlessly cool. "But for now, let's go congratulate the real star of the show. And remember, best behavior, cats. We're representing Nekoma."

As they made their way down to the court, pushing through the crowds of spectators, Kuroo felt a surge of affection - for you, for his sometimes annoying but always entertaining team, for this crazy, volleyball-filled life he led. He might give them hell during practice, but moments like these reminded him why he loved being Nekoma's captain.

"Alright, you bunch of alley cats," he called out to his team, voice carrying over the post-game chaos. "Let's show [Name] how Nekoma celebrates a victory! And if any of you embarrass me, I'll make sure you regret it at our next practice."

With a chorus of cheers, catcalls, and a few nervous gulps, the Nekoma team descended upon the court. They were ready to celebrate your win and, despite Kuroo's warning, no doubt find new and creative ways to tease their captain. But as Kuroo's eyes found you amidst the crowd, your face flushed with victory and eyes shining, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way. This was his team, this was his life, and he was loving every minute of it.

YAMAMOTO TAKETORA

But no one in the building was more fired up than Yamamoto Taketora. The wing spiker with the signature mohawk was practically vibrating in his seat, his eyes wild with enthusiasm as he watched you dominate the court.

"HELL YEAH!" Yamamoto roared, pumping his fist in the air as you scored another point. His voice, always loud, seemed to shake the very foundations of the gym. "That's my girlfriend out there! Did you see that spike? Holy shit!"

Kuroo, sitting next to him, winced and rubbed his ear. "Yamamoto, we're right here. No need to burst our eardrums."

But Yamamoto was too hyped to care. He leapt to his feet, nearly knocking over Kenma's handheld game in the process. "Sorry, cap! I can't help it! She's just so… so… AWESOME!"

Kenma sighed, rescuing his game console from Yamamoto's flailing arms. "We know, Tora. You've only said it about a hundred times in the last ten minutes."

"But Kenma!" Yamamoto whirled around, eyes blazing with passion. "Did you see how she received that serve? It was like… like… GWAH! And then BOOM!" His arms windmilled wildly, nearly taking out Lev in the process.

Lev ducked just in time, his long limbs tangling as he tried to avoid Yamamoto's enthusiastic gestures. "Yamamoto-senpai, please be careful! But you're right, [Name]-san is amazing! How did you get such a cool girlfriend?"

Yamamoto's chest puffed out with pride, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. "Well, you see, Lev, it's all about confidence! You gotta be bold, you gotta be brave! You gotta-"

"You gotta stop scaring every girl in school with your loud voice and intense staring," Yaku interrupted dryly, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yaku-san!" Yamamoto wailed, clutching his heart as if mortally wounded. "How could you say that? I'll have you know, [Name] loves my passion!"

Inuoka leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "But seriously, Yamamoto-senpai, how did you and [Name]-san start dating? You used to get so nervous around girls!"

Yamamoto's face softened, a rare moment of calm settling over his usually energetic features. "Well, you see…" he began, but was cut off by a collective gasp from the crowd.

You had just pulled off an incredible save, diving to keep a seemingly impossible ball in play. Without missing a beat, Yamamoto was on his feet again, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"THAT'S MY GIRL! DID YOU SEE THAT? DID YOU FREAKING SEE THAT?" He turned to his teammates, eyes wild with excitement. "Tell me you saw that! It was like… like… she flew! Like a tiger! A flying tiger!"

Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "We saw it, Yamamoto. The whole gym saw it. And heard you."

But Yamamoto was beyond caring about volume control or public decorum. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "[NAME]! YOU'RE AMAZING! YOU'RE THE BEST! I LOVE YOU!"

His face immediately turned beet red as he realized what he'd just yelled in front of the entire gymnasium. The Nekoma team stared at him in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter and cheers.

"Wow, Yamamoto," Lev grinned, clapping him on the back. "That was so cool! So brave!"

Kenma, despite himself, cracked a small smile. "Well, that's one way to confess."

Yamamoto sank back into his seat, face burning but eyes still fixed on you. "I… I didn't mean to say that out loud," he mumbled, but there was no real regret in his voice.

Kuroo draped an arm around Yamamoto's shoulders, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Well, well, well. Our little Tora is all grown up. Confessing his love in front of the whole school. I'm so proud."

"Shut up," Yamamoto grumbled, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "It just… came out."

As the match neared its end, Yamamoto's energy seemed to only increase. He was on his feet for every point, cheering so loudly that people in the next prefecture could probably hear him. When the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory, Yamamoto let out a roar that put his previous shouts to shame.

"WE WON! [NAME] WON! DID YOU SEE THAT? MY GIRLFRIEND IS THE BEST VOLLEYBALL PLAYER IN THE WORLD!"

Before anyone could stop him, Yamamoto was vaulting over the seats, pushing through the crowd to get to the court. The rest of the Nekoma team scrambled to follow, equal parts amused and mortified by their teammate's antics.

As they reached the edge of the court, Yamamoto skidded to a halt, suddenly nervous. You were there, flushed with victory, surrounded by your celebrating teammates. Yamamoto's usual bravado faltered for a moment as the reality of his public confession sank in.

Kuroo gave him a gentle push forward. "Go on, tiger. Your flying tiger is waiting."

Taking a deep breath, Yamamoto stepped onto the court. His face was a mixture of nervousness and unbridled joy as he approached you. The rest of the Nekoma team watched, grinning, as their boisterous wing spiker prepared to face his greatest challenge yet: talking to his girlfriend after accidentally confessing his love in front of the entire school.

As embarrassing as it was, Yamamoto wouldn't have had it any other way. This was who he was - loud, passionate, and utterly devoted. And as he saw the smile bloom on your face when you spotted him, he knew that's exactly why you loved him too.

@kiesbrainjuice do not copy or translate !

[ghsface]

BUT WHEN YOU GET ME ALONE, IT'S SO SIMPLE | spencer reid

Sumary: After years of friendship you decide to ruin it for good

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) soft!dom spencer, oral sex (f), semi-public, p in v sex, If I'm missing something, let me know

Word count: idk i just started writing and i couldn't stop

Author's note: So this is my first smut I hate it but I like it at the same time, tell me what you think, I also have so many things to publish, tell me if you want to be on my tag list, I'm sorry if there are misspelled words or spelling mistakes, my first language is not English🎀

The clock struck nine at night and the FBI office in Quantico was unusually quiet. The fluorescent lights flickered occasionally, adding a touch of surrealism to the atmosphere. You had decided to stay a little later to finish a report that had been piling up on your desk for days.

In the distance, you could see the tall, thin figure of Spencer Reid, still absorbed in his work. Ever since you joined the team, you had felt an undeniable attraction to Spencer. His intelligence, his unique way of being, and his charming shyness had captured you from the first moment.

You had noticed that your eyes met more often than you considered casual, and every interaction, no matter how small, left a mark on your mind.

There was something about Spencer that attracted you in a way you couldn't explain.

The way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about, or the way he bit his lip when he was focused on his readings.

He was a man who hid so much depth behind a facade of calmness and analysis.

That night, as you went over your notes, your thoughts inevitably drifted to him. You imagined what it would be like to be close to Spencer, to feel his warmth, his touch. The thought made you smile and sigh at the same time. You decided that tonight could be different.

Maybe it was time to break down the barriers and see what lay beyond the furtive glances and accidental brushes.

You stood up from your desk and walked to the section of the office where Spencer was working. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, and his eyes met yours. The spark in his gaze gave you the courage you needed to move forward.

“Hey, Spence,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm as your heart pounded. “You staying late too?”

“Yeah,” he replied, with a smile that made your knees weak a little. “I’m just finishing up going over some cases. How about you?”

“Same here,” you lied lightly, feeling your true intentions reflected in your eyes. “I thought I’d take a break and check on you.”

The conversation flowed naturally, but the tension between you was palpable. Every word, every gesture, seemed to be laden with deeper meaning. When you both realized the office was completely empty, the atmosphere changed. Spencer leaned a little closer to you, and you responded by moving closer as well.

“I’ve always felt like there’s something between us,” you murmured, your eyes locked with his. “Something that goes beyond simple friendship.” Spencer nodded, his expression serious but filled with emotion.

“I’ve felt it too,” he confessed. “But I never knew if you felt the same.”

Without thinking, you moved closer and took his hand. “So what do we do about it?”

Spencer didn’t respond with words. Instead, he gently led you towards one of the empty offices. He closed the door behind you, creating a small haven of privacy in the middle of the vast building.

The room was dark, lit only by the dim light coming in from the hallway. Spencer looked at you with an intensity you had never seen before. His hands found your face, and his lips landed on yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, but soon became more passionate and urgent.

Your hands slid down his back, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his shirt. Spencer responded with equal intensity, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You found yourself lost in the feeling of being so close to him, of feeling every beat of his heart against yours.

The kiss broke briefly, and Spencer looked at you with a mix of desire and tenderness. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmured, his voice husky with emotion.

“Me too,” you replied, before pulling him back to you.

Clothes quickly came undone, each item of clothing falling to the floor in deliberate oblivion. The touch of his skin against yours was electrifying, every caress, every kiss, igniting a fire inside you that you didn't know existed. Spencer's hands explored your body with a mix of urgency and gentleness, as if he were discovering a hidden treasure.

His fingers found the clasp of your blouse, sliding it down deftly. You felt his breathing quicken as did yours. You helped yourself to get rid of Spencer's shirt, revealing his firm, sculpted torso. Your hands ran over his chest, enjoying the feel of his skin under your fingers.

Spencer led you to the office couch, and gently laid you down, placing himself on top of you. His hands explored every corner of your body, from your neck to your hips, and your sighs mixed with his in a symphony of desire. Every movement, every touch, was a declaration of love and desire, a testament to the deep connection you shared.

“This is more than I ever imagined,” you murmured, feeling the pleasure build with each caress.

“I know,” Spencer replied, his eyes filled with adoration as he looked at you. “This is just the beginning.”

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in their wake. His tongue traced circles over your skin, sending shivers of pleasure along your spine. When his lips found the edge of your bra, Spencer paused, looking up at you with a silent question in his eyes.

You nodded, giving him permission to continue. In one deft move, Spencer unclasped your bra, freeing your breasts. His lips found one of your nipples, sucking and licking until a moan escaped your lips. Meanwhile, his hands continued to explore your body, sliding down your sides and down to your thighs.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently as he continued to torture you with his mouth. Every lick, every soft bite, sent waves of pleasure straight to your core. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, desire burning inside you with an intensity you had never experienced.

Spencer moved down, his lips trailing kisses from your breasts to your belly. He paused briefly to unbutton your pants, sliding them and your panties down your legs. You found yourself completely naked under his intense gaze, vulnerable yet aroused for what was to come.

His lips found the inside of your thighs, kissing them softly before moving to your center. When his tongue finally made contact with your clit, a cry of pleasure escaped your lips. Spencer alternated between licking and sucking, bringing you to the edge again and again without letting you fall.

“Please, Spencer,” you begged, desperately needing more.

He looked up, his eyes dark and filled with desire.

“I want you to enjoy every second of this,” he said, his voice husky and laden with passion.

With those words, he slid up, aligning his erection with your entrance. He looked at you once more, seeking confirmation. You nodded, and he thrust slowly, filling you completely. The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that left you breathless.

Spencer began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first. You could feel every inch of his length, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your nails dug into his back, your moans filling the room as he increased the pace.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice cracking with effort. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

“Me neither,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper. “Don’t stop, Spencer.”

His movements became faster and stronger, each thrust bringing you closer to climax. You could feel the heat building in your belly, a delicious tension threatening to boil over at any moment. Spencer leaned into you, his lips finding yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.

When you finally reached orgasm, your body arched beneath him, a cry of pleasure tearing through your lips. Spencer kept thrusting, bringing you to a second climax before letting go, his own orgasm exploding inside you.

You both collapsed onto the couch, breathing heavily as you tried to recover. Spencer held you close, his hands gently caressing your back as you rested your head on his chest.

“That was amazing,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin

“Yes, it was,” he replied, his voice filled with satisfaction. “I love you.”

"I love you too spence,” you said, feeling overwhelming happiness knowing that you had found something truly special.

You stood there for a while, enjoying the closeness and newfound intimacy. You knew this would change everything, but you were both ready to face whatever came. Spencer looked at you with a satisfied smile and you smiled back, feeling a happiness you had never experienced before.

“I think we should head back before someone misses us,” he finally said, with a soft laugh.

“Yeah,” you replied, though a part of you wanted to stay there forever. You quickly dressed, adjusting your clothes and hair before leaving the empty office. As you returned to the main area, a few coworkers glanced at you curiously, but no one said anything. The spark in your eyes was enough to make everyone understand that something significant had happened.

The next few days were filled with knowing glances and secret smiles. The connection between you had deepened, and though you tried to remain professional, it was hard not to let your feelings seep into every interaction.

One night, after a particularly long meeting, Spencer invited you over to his house for dinner. You eagerly accepted, knowing that this would be another chance to explore your relationship.

The dinner was intimate and relaxed. You talked about everything and nothing, enjoying each other’s company without the pressures of work. After dinner, you sat down on the couch, and Spencer pulled you close to him.

“I love you,” he said, his words filled with sincerity and emotion.

“I love you too,” you replied, feeling your heart fill with indescribable joy.

The kiss that followed was slow and deep, filled with the promise of a future together. Spencer led you to his bedroom, and that night, you gave yourselves over to pleasure and love again, knowing you had found something truly special.

Over time, your relationship grew stronger. You learned to balance work and personal life, finding ways to support each other both professionally and personally. The team noticed the change, but everyone stood by you, knowing you had found something rare and beautiful.

Every day with Spencer was a new adventure, a chance to discover more about him and yourself. The passion and connection you shared never waned, and together, you faced every challenge that came your way.

And so, what began as a silent attraction in an empty office turned into an epic love story, one that neither of you had anticipated but one you both embraced with your entire being.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly☆

[innaillus]

Drawing Ryōmen Sukuna

Development notes

This post has been in the making since last year, before the manga has reached its current arc. My aim was to respond to comments that pointed out that my version of that time didn't look like the one in the anime. I calculate everything I do and the way I do it. My current goal is to share my thoughts on the development of my take on him - simply because I'm a nerd when it comes to anatomy and I love figuring things out. It involves a lot of thinking, questioning, analysis, dissecting information and building theories. So I totally understand if it's not anyone's cup of tea.

MANGA SPOILER WARNING

The very beginning

I used to have a serious case of lack of self-confidence. My earliest art of Sukuna dates back to 2021, but it always felt like my skills are not worthy of this particular character. I never shared my art. I was also struggling to find my artistic voice. I was obsessed with the idea of semi-realism, but even if I managed to pull it off after weeks of stylisation practices, I didn't like the results.

Due to personal reasons, I stopped trying to draw him for a long time.

The development of "my" version

It was an entirely conscious decision to draw him differently.

The top reasons for the change was that I didn't want to sexualise him in his host, Yuuji, who is a minor. Back then I thought he inflicted the deformation on himself (extra limbs, eyes, etc), for the sake of efficiency, and I was curious what he looked like before that - or what he would look like in a civilised environment.

During the process, I considered a number of factors:

the beauty standard of the other JJK men - I wanted him to fit the lineup - his original appearance made him stand out quite much

in a setting where he adheres to the rules of society, more or less, I believe his MBTI personality type (ENTJ) would dictate a lot of his choices when it comes to appearance, at least to a certain extent. I thought he would choose to have an appearance that fits the beauty standards of the era

I kept his tattoos because it's a very distinguishing feature of him, but I also exercise freedom in the way I draw them, to make them as stylish as possible

Reincarnation

I used to believe once he reincarnates, his proportions would be closer to that of a "normal" human, even if he has some extra limbs. However, his size and features are above and beyond of what we are used to, and even the story emphasises their malformed appearance. So a a whole new era of Sukuna started in my art. I chose my favourite manga panels of him and mix-and-matched the most attractive features into a figure that I consider on the fine edge of monstrosity and unconventional handsomeness.

Even when I draw him with a regular number of limbs, I keep his usual mass and proportions. I dubbed this form "true gains" form.

I also realised that some of the tattoos Yuuji's body displayed was a product of the partial reincarnation stage, like we see it on Tsumiki's forehead.

NOTE: Did anyone notice that Sukuna is getting progressively more and more human/handsome in the manga? When he took over Megumi's body, I also noticed that as the story progressed, he started to look older and more mature. I'm curious of it was a conscious decision.

Twin dilemma and speculations

According to the Japanese wikipedia page, the mythical figure Sukuna could have been a conjoined twin. Despite my extensive digging in the matter, I was shocked by the recent lore drop.

My question: what does Sukuna look like in a universe where he did not absorb his twin in the womb during development?

It hasn't been confirmed, but I find it very possible now that he was born with his extra limbs, eyes and mouth, as well as the deformed, wide features. (...as opposed to my first theory about him altering his own body for the sake of efficiency)

This, however, would mean that in a universe where both him and his brother are born healthily, he would look different. There is the obvious lack of extra arms, eyes and mouth - but I believe he would also be closer to the JJK beauty standard of men, as far as proportions go (eg. more narrow face, anime-esque nose, larger eyes).

At first I was hesitant to accept this idea, as I'm very attached to the 4-arm hulk / "true gains" form now, but then I realised: this would mean that "my"version of him actually has logically explainable place in at least an alternate universe.

Thank you if you got this far.

I may edit this post later. Let's see where the story takes us.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dean Obediallah at The Dean's Report:

No one can deny that Donald Trump has shown a significant level of cognitive decline since he first ran for President in 2015 at the age of 69 years old to where he is today at 78. But what we’ve seen with Trump is far more than normal aging. Trump—as countless mental health experts have stated—is showing symptoms of dementia.  While people can debate if Trump is in the early or mid-stages of severe cognitive decline, what can’t be debated is that this poses a very serious national security issue for our nation. Consequently, this issue demands far more media coverage. On Monday night, I interviewed, psychologist Dr. John Gartner--the founder of “Duty to Warn” –who was first on my show back in April when he was waving red flags about Trump’s mental decline. In April, Gartner noted that Trump “can't get through a rally without committing one of these” tell-tale signs of dementia, such as saying the incorrect word or “combining or mixing up people and generations.”  

He also directed my attention to a petition signed by more than 500 licensed mental health professions—including best-selling authors and well-respected psychologists—warning that Trump was exhibiting signs of dementia. Gartner noted in April that “we're noticing deterioration almost every day” with Trump. Here we are six months later.  After discussing what Dr. Gartner has observed with Trump over the past few months, I asked this simple question: “Does Donald Trump have some form of dementia?” In response, Gartner answered succinctly, “There's absolutely no doubt.” Gartner explained that on his podcast, “Shrinking Trump,” he has welcomed mental health professionals who specialize in dementia—such as from “Duty to Inform”-- and they reached the same conclusion. “We've had neuropsychologists, neuropsychiatrists on the show who have gone through their analysis” and confirmed what they are observing is dementia, Gartner noted. He added, “When you really talk to the experts and the super experts, it's even more apparent,” that Trump’s exhibiting symptoms consistent with this condition.

Dementia is not a term that should be thrown around whimsically to score political points. Dementia—as Dr. Gartner explained—is “brain damage.” He continued that it’s “a deteriorating organic process in the brain where the cognitive processes start to break down.” He added alarmingly that with people like Trump, “they only go in one direction. They keep sliding downhill.” Adding to the credibility of this diagnosis is that dementia runs in the Trump family. As Donald’s own nephew, Fred Trump III, explained on my show recently, Donald’s father, Donald’s older sister, Maryanne and Donald’s cousin, John Walters all had dementia. And as the NY Times reported ten days ago in an article on Trump’s cognitive decline, “Trump has seemed confused, forgetful, incoherent or disconnected from reality lately.”  They added, “He rambles, he repeats himself, he roams from thought to thought — some of them hard to understand, some of them unfinished, some of them factually fantastical.”

Just look at Trump’s conduct in the past week that provides more jarring examples. At an event at the Detroit Economic Club when he was supposed to address economic issues, he literally began to speak of Elon Musk’s missiles landing, “Biden circles” that were “beautiful” but Biden “couldn’t fill them up” to “we’ve been abused by other countries, we’ve been abused by our own politicians”–all in the same incoherent answer.  I played that clip for Dr. Gartner who commented that it makes “you realize how completely lost Trump is.” In addition, Trump while appearing on a podcast last week literally delivered a 12 minute (yes, 12 minute) meandering answer that was so incoherent it caused the hosts to joke that Trump was not rambling, he was “weaving.” One host added that they “don’t even want to know the answer anymore,” they just want more “weaving.” They were humoring Trump who was not making sense.

And at a rally in Pennsylvania on Monday, Trump told the crowd to vote on “January 5”—not November. That of course could simply be a minor mental flub, but what came next was truly bizarre. Trump told the audience that it was time to end the questions and just listen to music. I’m not kidding. The context was that two people had passed out from heat at the event, to which Trump asked, would “anybody else would like to faint?” Trump then declared, “Let’s not do any more questions. Let’s just listen to music. Let’s make it into a music. Who the hell wants to hear questions, right?”  Then—as the Washington Post reported—"For 39 minutes, Trump swayed, bopped — sometimes stopping to speak — as he turned the event into almost a living-room listening session of his favorite songs from his self-curated rally playlist.”

Yes, Trump stood on stage for nearly 40 minutes at a packed Town Hall where instead of answering questions, he danced. I know it sounds like a Saturday Night Live sketch, but it was real life. If President Biden had done that when he was the nominee, we would’ve seen non-stop coverage exploring his mental state. All of this is why this is truly a national security issue. As Dr. Gartner explained, a person with dementia like Trump could be easily manipulated by “corrupt businessman or any hostile foreign power.” He cited the examples of how devious people have taken advantage of those with dementia to get them to sign a will that makes the person the sole beneficiary. But in the case with Trump, we are potentially talking about Trump agreeing to allow wealthy backers like Elon Musk to financially benefit at our expense. Or worse, allow our enemies to take advantage of him—more than they even did in the past.

Dean Obeidallah succinctly explains that Donald Trump’s dementia is not only a political issue but also a national security issue.