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pedgito · 1 year

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i just saw your post about glasses!eddie munson and whenever you have the time, would you be able to write a cute series of reader finding out about his glasses ITS JUST ADORABLE

author’s note: this was meant to post sooner than now but here it is lol, i finished this pretty quick but got sidetracked. glasses!eddie has invaded my brain and it’s never leaving.

cw: sfw, glasses!eddie, eddie’s not so subtle flirting, acquaintances to friends, once again another fic where everyone bullies eddie (give this man a break), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.5k

“Do you wanna switch seats with me?” Your voice is soft, leaning back toward Eddie, whose eyes are nearly closed from how hard he’s focusing on the board, blindly scribbling something down on the paper. He’s lost on where the voice comes from until you’re in focus, looking back at him with a smile.

Eddie wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy either. He was the boy who got picked on relentlessly and as much as you wanted to help, you weren’t sure it would change anything. Plus, he didn’t seem that bothered by it—or he was just really good at faking like he wasn’t.

“Oh,” Eddie replies, still confused, “I’ll be fine—Mr. Donahue’s handwriting is always shit, I can barely understand it.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but it was still legible.

“Munson!” The teacher's voice rings from the front of the classroom, “let's stop trying to distract other classmates and focus on our own work, okay?”

And if it wasn’t the condescension in his tone that pissed you off, it was the way he so quickly blamed Eddie for the interaction. He shrinks slightly, sending you an apologetic look.

It happens a few more times that week, catching Eddie glancing at the board as if it’s nearly impossible to see—and maybe he was telling the truth, but it’s also obvious that Donahue hates Eddie for no other apparent reason than just because he thinks he’s up to no good, which isn’t fair to Eddie.

You show up early to class the following week, bag resting in the chair of the desk beside you—Eddie’s usual seat, waiting. He’s always bordering on being late, making it to class as the bell rings, looking more frazzled than the others.

You weren’t sure what he got up to between classes, but he definitely seemed overwhelmed.

“This seat taken?” He asks with a smug smirk, pointing at your backpack. You smile slightly, reaching for it.

“Sorry—I just wanted to make sure I could sit beside you.” You tell him honestly. It throws Eddie off, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly before relaxing, eyes roaming over you curiously. “You said you can’t understand his handwriting, I was gonna let you copy my notes.”

“Can I copy your work too?” Eddie asks jokingly, but you can tell he means it. “I’m barely scraping by with a D in this class.”

You snort out a quiet laugh. “Let’s worry about the notes first.”

Eddie spends most of the class still struggling, forehead creased up as he sifts through your notes, writing things down sparingly. It’s almost like he’s trying not to be mean, focusing a little too hard on one word every now and then as he looks over, your papers perched on the corner of the desk.

“If my writing is horrible you can tell me,” You say, which makes Eddie chuckle, “seriously, I won’t be offended.”

“It’s not that,” He assures you, “it’s just—the angle, it’s a little hard to read them—“

“Oh, well,” You grab the papers in a bunch, extending them toward him, “here, just take them.”

Eddie ignored you, his fingers wrapping around the leg of your desk to pull it flush against his—it’s quick enough that it doesn’t make much noise, only a slight shifting that draws a few eyes.

“Or…that works too.” You say shyly, face heating up at his straightforwardness. “Better?”

He glances over, shifting the papers to his side and gives a subtle nod as his lips pull together in a tight line, “Yeah, actually.”

And it’s almost blissful silence as Eddie copies them down, asking a few questions when your words meld together out of habit when you’re writing too quickly, he still leans in slightly but you don’t pester him on it—eventually Eddie’s actions are noticed, all eyes shifting toward the back of the classroom.

When you look up, everyone is staring back, including the pensive and threatening eyes of your teacher.

Eddie mumbles a soft, “Sorry.” as he pushes your desk back.

“Do I need to remind you two that this isn’t a matchmaking class?”

And it’s a ridiculous comment to make, but it has Eddie scoffing slightly underneath his breath.

“I’m letting him copy my notes,” You say innocently, “is that okay?”

You can’t remember having a problem in any of your classes, either flying under the radar or one of the usual favorites—you’ve never felt this tense, staring down the entirety of the group that was staring right back, though your gaze was focused on Mr. Donahue.

Eddie looks at you briefly before settling his eyes toward the desk, fiddling with pen in his hands to soothe his anxiety.

“If Eddie has a problem, he can come sit up front,” He says coarsely, “I don’t think you have the wiggle room to be socializing, do you?”

And suddenly his gaze on you is forgotten, flicking toward Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t give him the satisfaction, shuffling his shoulders forward in an effort to hide himself, scribbling something random down on the paper in front of him—it’s something he did when was bored or uncomfortable, even, a comfort.

You catch Eddie toward the end of class, gripping his sleeve before he can sneak away.

“How far behind are you?” You ask him, peering up at him curiously. Eddie looks sheepish, glancing away for a moment.

“Uh, I haven’t really taken notes all semester—I kinda just..scribble shit down so it looks like I’m working.”

Your eyes slant down slightly, in an ire of disbelief as your mouth parts, “Eddie, are you serious?”

He shrugs, reaching a hand up to scratch his jaw. You huff through your nose, snatching the pen perched in Eddie’s pocket and uncapping it before shoving it into his hands.

“Give me your address.” You insist, holding out your arm to him. Eddie seems skeptical, fingers wrapping around your arm gently, shifting your sleeve up, “I’m getting you caught up—don’t look at me like that.”

And truly, he’s not sure how to respond. Kindness and niceties weren’t at all familiar, feeling like there was always some ulterior motive. Still, he scribbles down the information with slow strokes, careful that it doesn’t smudge—leaving a small smiley face out of spite, forcing a similar expression onto your own face.

“I’m free after six,” He tells you, “so unless you want to get caught up in awkward conversation with my uncle, wait until then.”

You laugh at that, pulling your sleeve down.

“How else am I supposed to uncover all of your secrets?”

Eddie smirks slightly, eyes averting toward the floor.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—you just have to ask.”

He spends most of his nights—sans the ones where he’s performing for the small audience at The Hideout or hosting Hellfire meetings—organizing campaigns and writing down random things that come to his mind, feeling the need to get the thought out on paper, even if it’s song lyrics or a drawing.

He adjusts the thin rimmed glasses up his nose, eyes hurting from the strain he’s forced them through all day. He knows he should spend a few minutes resting, even just closing his eyes for a moment, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows it’s his fault, the beginnings of a headache forming as he tries to focus, his finger sneaking up to rub at his eye—he can feel the haziness, willing it away.

But then you’re knocking at his door and every thought is thrown out the window—part of him never expected you to show, his heart thrumming in his chest as he leaps from the bed, tossing the papers away haphazardly and forcing the glasses up into his hair without a thought, pushing his bangs away from his face.

Eddie whips the door open, causing you to startle slightly.

“Hi.” You say wearily, a soft smile on your face.

“Hi,” Eddie responds slightly out of breath, before clearing his throat and offering a smoother, “Hey.”

Your eyes glance up, noticing the difference in his face. His bangs were like a trademark, constantly hiding his eyebrows. You point up curiously, speaking before you can think things through.

“You wear glasses?” You ask, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“No—no uh, of course not.” Eddie responds quickly, adamant in his refusal. “Why would you—“

He’s clearly caught off guard, standing awkwardly in the doorway, eyes crossing as he follows your finger, only realizing his mistake when you drag the glasses down slowly, pushing them gently up the bridge of his nose.

“Well, that is definitely an interesting pair of non-existent glasses.” You say jokingly, grinning at his embarrassment, cheeks flushing a deep red.

It’s hard to explain how perfectly they fit his face—like it’s the missing piece that pulls him together. He’s not dressed up like usual, in a faded graphic shirt and gray pair of sweats, no jacket or rings in sight. It’s natural—and it’s in that split second you can see the real Eddie. Not the threatening, menacing Eddie Munson that everyone played him out to be.

Eddie nods wearily, beckoning you inside.

“I won’t tell anyone,” You promise him with a tinge of amusement, rounding on him as he closes the door, shoving the stack of papers at his chest, “—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Eddie pulls the glasses off of his face, folding them up.

“It’s not that,” Eddie tells you, “—didn’t mean for you to find out about them, it kinda ruins the whole image, you know?”

Image. It makes you laugh to yourself silently.

“You didn’t seem like you were trying to hide them,” You giggled slightly, “besides, I don’t think they ruin anything.”

“I kinda forgot you were coming.” Eddie lies, knowing he had been riddled with nerves since he stepped foot inside of the trailer that evening, not understanding why he was so anxious to begin with.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep or anything—“ You stop briefly, sighing softly, “but if you need a tutor or even just…some help, I don’t mind.”

Eddie doesn’t really know how to take it, staring at you like you’d grown a second head.

“I study with Nancy a lot,” You explain, “it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m a lost cause,” Eddie admits with half-smile, “there’s no saving me.”

“I don’t believe that,” You tell him honestly, approaching him to shove the glasses back toward his chest, his other hand still stuffed full with the papers containing your notes, “—seriously, put them back on and I can spend a couple hours seeing where you’re at.”

Eddie listens, though skeptically, placing the glasses back onto his face—you smile without really thinking, causing him to react similarly.

“It’s okay to let someone be nice to you,” You assure him, “as many assholes as there are at Hawkins, there’s still a few of us who mean well.”

“I can’t be taught, I’m just warning you now.” Eddie remains adamant, leading the way toward his room. You follow behind eagerly, taking in the abstract way of decoration littered around the trailer.

“Fine—you can at least show me your drawings then.”

Eddie looks back at you briefly, a confused grin on his face.

“I’m really observant,” You tease, “and curious.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Eddie asks.

“I’ve already got one secret to keep,” You respond, teasing him lightly, “what’s one more?”

“How bad is it?” You ask him, staring up expectantly.

“What—oh, my eyes?” Eddie asks, “Uh, kinda bad. It’s okay, though—I manage.”

You crease your eyebrows together, motioning for him to remove the glasses. He does, watching as you reach for a paper, holding it up in front of him.

“Tell me when you can read it clearly.”

Eddie nods, squinting as you move the paper closer and closer, until it’s only a few inches from his face, your eyes widening in shock.

“Eddie,” You stress, “you can’t be serious?”

“I told you I manage,” He argues with a slight laugh, “but it’s bad, I meant that.”

Your expression remains the same, arms falling to your side as you discarded the paper.

“They look weird,” Eddie defends, “that’s why I only wear them at home—I already get enough shit at school anyways.”

“Bullshit,” You say boldly, “they do not look weird.”

Unfortunately, you did see all of the relentless teasing he caught at school, that wasn’t lost on you.

“You don’t have to lie,” Eddie says, “it won’t bother me.”

“I’m not,” You counter, smiling as the glasses returned to his face, his eyelashes touching the lenses, bangs brushing against the rim, “they fit you—they’re…cute.”

Eddie snorts in disbelief, “Okay, enough.”

You smile to yourself, watching as his cheek flushed a faint pink.

“Can I try them on?”

Eddie doesn’t answer outright, pulling them away from his face and handing them over—they’re a little bigger, his more prominent facial structure different from yours and causing the glasses to slide down your nose slightly. You push them up with your finger, squinting at the strain it puts on your eyes.

You can see Eddie smiling over the rim, admiring how perplexed you look in the moment, “Don’t look at me like that,” You say playfully, “these things are really strong.”

Eddie shakes his head, “It’s—nothing, nevermind.” He pulls the glasses from your face gently, placing them back on his own.

And Eddie’s never been shy, but suddenly he can’t force the words out, afraid of the mix of both rejection and embarrassment.

“I like you like this,” You tell him, hoping it eases him, seeing how tense he was—clearly unloved by many, “I mean, I like you both ways but this—it’s nice.”

“You’re the first.” He says flippantly, not aimed at you for any specific reason. He’s not immune to the words thrown at him, they do start to wear on him after time, even if he brushes them off for the most part.

“They’re insane,” You tell him with a surety, “all of them.”

“Careful,” Eddie treads, “Jason would have a fuckin’ field day if he heard you say that.”

You shrug, smugness in your expression.

“He’s terrified of me.”

“Jason—terrified of you?” Eddie asks, begging for more clarification.

“Our parents are friends—I’ve seen…a lot.” You say cryptically, not wanting to dive into details, “I’m not one for blackmail but I’m not totally above it.”

“You’re so interesting,” Eddie speaks candidly.

“I’ll take that was a compliment?” You respond, “Hopefully.”

Eddie nods with a subtle smile.

“Well—like you said,” You start, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I’ll tell you anything, just ask.”

You hold your finger up as his mouth opens—

“But, notes first—secrets later.”

Eddie pushes his glasses up comedically, forcing a quiet laugh from you—it’s the exact reaction he wants. He settles, agreeing with your rules.

“Deal.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x you #my writing

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golden1u5t · 11 hours

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in-house babysitter | a.h x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: aaron is your boss and you're his in-house babysitter, after having a horrible date, he comes home and all he wants is you.

you were sitting on the sofa watching a horror movie when aaron came in, you heard the door close and his heavy footsteps fading down the hall to his bedroom. he hadn't spoken to you which was unusual for him, he always spoke to you no matter how upset or tired he was.

choosing to ignore it, you redirected your attention back to the movie. though, you kept getting sidetracked by the small sounds you could hear coming from him in his room. you didn't have the volume on the tv turned up too loud as to not wanting to wake jack.

about half an hour later, a loud thud came from aaron's room which caused you to pause the television. you walked towards his room and softly knocked on the door, a gruff 'come in' came from the other side of the door.

you opened the door and stepped inside his room, leaning against it after you closed it. you caught a small glimpse of aaron's toned stomach as he finished pulling his shirt down. "is everything okay?"

"yeah- why are you still awake? it's late." he asked, glancing down at his watch to confirm how late it was. you shrugged your shoulders and spit out a lie about just not being tired but of course, aaron saw right through it. "truthfully?"

"i just- i wanted to make sure you got home from your date safe." you shrugged, averting your gaze when aaron started to walk closer to you. your cheeks burned as you could almost feel his body warmth radiating off of him. ever since you first applied for the babysitting job you've had a crush on aaron, but having to live with him has helped you manage your feelings around him better.

"speaking of which, how was your date?" when you finally looked back at him, you didn't miss the way his shoulders tensed at the question. you opened your mouth to take the question back but aaron started to speak before you could.

"it wasn't exactly the best." he stated, shaking his head as he thought back to how awful his date really was. he kept the details vague when you asked, saying that they just weren't compatible but the real reason the date was so bad was because he couldn't keep his mind off of you the entire time and that caused him to be a bad date.

"oh, i'm sorry to hear that." you pressed your lips into a thin line, not trying to give away the fact that you were actually a bit glad the date didn't go well. aaron chuckled and took a step closer, he had you backed against the door with nowhere to go.

"no you're not."

your breath caught in your throat as he brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and smoothing his thumb over the soft skin. even if aaron hadn't been a profiler, you've lived together long enough now that he's had time to learn all of your tells: when you're lying, when you're nervous, when you're happy, etc.

for a few moments you both stood there, pressed against his bedroom door, staring into each other's eyes waiting for the other to make the next move. aaron's gaze dropped down to your lips for a moment before he met your eyes again, he was silently asking for permission to kiss you, which you granted almost immediately.

you tossed your arms over his shoulders as he leaned forward and finally pressed your lips together. it was a kiss that portrayed all the feelings you've had for each other that have been building up for months.

aaron placed his hand under your thigh so he could lift your leg up and place it around his hip. he pressed himself against your core so that you could feel how his cock was hardening with each second his mouth was on yours. as much as you hated to have to pull away from his lips, you desperately needed air. aaron took that moment to tuck his head in the crook of your neck and place kisses anywhere he could.

"aaron- are you sure we should be doing this?" you mumbled as you pushed your fingers into the short hairs at the back of his head as his teeth lightly grazed your skin. you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to trail his lips over your skin.

"i've been thinking about you all night." he lifted his head from your neck and pressed one quick kiss to your lips, he pushed his hips into you to accentuate his point. "if you don't want to then we won't, it's all up to you."

you stared up at him while you thought about your decision. you really did want this but you had to think about how it could affect your job and your relationship with him afterwards. aaron pushed a stray piece of hair from your face and gently let your leg down.

"i want to." you finally spoke, you leaned up and ghosted your lips against his before slipping around his body. aaron turned around to face you, a soft groan escaping from his parted lips as you pulled your shirt over your head.

"show me what you've got, mr. hotchner."

#golden1u5t #myrarants #criminal minds fandom #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #dom aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut

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wildemaven · 1 year

Text

The Secrets We Keep…

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

WC: 5284

Warnings: 18+; self doubt, asshole friend, cheating, divorce, failed engagement, food and alcohol, hotel hookups, hot and heavy make out session, a little angst I think, secretly in love with friend’s husband, I think that’s it.

A/N: This has been sitting for so long! I’m glad to finally get this off my WIP list! I struggled through some parts of this so I hope it flows well!! I feel like Dave is misunderstood and just wants to be loved, so this is me trying to give him that… Anyways hope you enjoy! Likes, Comments and Reblogs are appreciated, helps me know you enjoy and helps me to stay motivated so I can write more.

Shout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey getting me in my Dave feels and talking through this with me!!

Masterlist / Main

“I’m going to tell him tonight!” You told the reflection looking back at you.

You give yourself a once over in the mirror, admiring the way the black dress drapes over your body, the way it hugged every inch of you. This slip dress was outside your realm of comfort, especially for tonight. You lived in well-worn jeans and buttery soft t-shirts outside of your 9-5 work attire, sandals or sneakers depending on the weather-- You chose comfort over dressing up 90% of the time.

But tonight you decided to throw caution to the wind, opting for something on the sexier side in hopes for a little confidence boost. The dress, simple jewelry and strappy heels were definitely doing it for you in this very moment. Taking one last spin, your phone vibrates on our dresser. Noting the time, you already know who it is—your longtime friend Carol.

*Ding*

Carol: Are you on your way yet?? The sooner I can get out of here the better!!

*Ding*

Carol: Dave is hovering and it’s pathetic

You were already dreading tonight and it hadn’t even begun.

*Ding*

Carol: I need a drink! The sooner the better!

You: Hi! Sorry!! I got sidetracked picking an outfit, but settled on the 5th option I tried on! Just grabbing my purse and heading out the door. Be there in 15!!

Carol. Carol York.

Your longtime friend of many years. You’d met when you both attended the same college in this very town. Both graduating at the same time and starting your careers together. You considered her one of your closest friends. You’d both had gotten engaged around the same time too. Her to Dave, who you always found to be very reserved but polite—could be his government job. And you to Jason… Jason who worked in accounting and loved to crunch numbers at all hours of the day— thrilling.

But as the years went on it was apparent that Carol didn’t value the friendship you shared as much as you had.

The digs were what you first started to pick up on throughout the years— the backhanded compliments, at your expense. Always pointing out things she thought you could fix about yourself— “You shouldn’t wear your hair like that, it’s not flattering” “I don’t know why you keep wearing that color, it horrible” “Why do you always just stand there when we go out? You would probably have more friends if you actually talked to other people”

You always brushed them off as Carol’s way of being a “good friend”, and as years went on you found yourself believing most of what she said too. She wouldn’t say them if they weren’t true… right??

When your engagement to Jason ended, Carol was there for you— sort of.

She and Dave had been married for a year when you and Jason had called it quits, deciding you were better off as friends and not romantically.

While you weren’t that heartbroken over the break-up, you still wanted your friend to lean on as you began to navigate through this new chapter of your life. Carol let you sulk for about 2 days before she was letting you know everything you could have done better and why Jason was better off. And once again, you took her harshness as just being a good friend—because that’s what good friends do… right??

It wasn’t until the affair began did you start to look at Carol differently.

Her and Dave had always seemed rock solid in their marriage. You never heard about fights or disagreements. Carol never complained about him outside of the normal annoyances. Dave was always the outstanding husband everyone adored. And while he was ever the dutiful husband, he was equally handsome. Carol knew women looked at him too. But that wasn’t enough for her. He wasn’t enough for her.

She met Glenn through work, you assumed some young intern wanting work his way up in the ranks. Carol kept it hidden as much as she could. But as they got more serious, the quick fucks in the office weren’t sufficient for them. So Carol had to think quick on her feet, come up with something that could get her more time with Glen.

In comes Girl’s Night.

Who would suspect anyone would be cheating, if they were meeting with their dear friend every Wednesday for a regular Girl’s Night? That’s how you found yourself getting thrown into this mess of a situation. Carol confided in you about the affair, said she was bored to death with Dave and needed something more exciting in her life— a complete shock to you. You had tried to tell her to just explain to Dave where she was coming from, maybe they could seek counseling to try and mend whatever Carol thought was lacking.

But Carol wouldn’t budge.

You became third wheel to her extra-curricular marital activities. Picking her up every Wednesday and driving to the fancy hotel across town where she would meet up with Glenn at the room he booked for them weekly. You would sit at the bar in the lobby for close to an hour by yourself, wishing you were literally anywhere else but there.

You felt icky letting this carry on for as long as it did—almost as if you were the one doing the cheating too. You didn’t deserve to be put in this position.

Dave doesn’t deserve this! I have to say something. I can’t be a part of this anymore! You thought to yourself as you drove the few blocks it took to get to their lovely two-story home. He deserved to know who his wife was and how she was when he wasn’t around.

Dave was a great guy. Always attentive to Carol and her lavish ways. Her wanting to look the part of the successful wife. Top name brand clothes and accessories, top of the line cars and dinners at the fanciest restaurants for no special occasion other than to just be seen. Dave just let her be, never complaining or showing any sort of annoyance at her ridiculous behavior.

Dave was the perfect husband if you were being brutally honest. And perfectly handsome. His dark locks were always brushed just right, never out of place. His eyes, while dark in color, held so much lightness to them—especially when he smiled that gorgeous smile of his. Your gaze instinctually would gravitate towards him without even realizing it sometimes. Imagining what it would be like to have someone as dreamy as Dave was.

You had even imagined what it would be like if it was you who Dave came home to every night. How you would take care of him—preparing his favorite meals, making sure he had a few snacks tucked away in his briefcase just in case there wasn’t time for lunch. Dave was worthy of being taken care of everyday. But this wasn’t reality.

Reality was Dave is married to your friend who doesn’t love him the way that you could—the way that you deeply wanted to.

You pushed those thoughts aside as you pulled up to their home. Checking yourself in the mirror once more before making your way up to their front door.

You knocked several times, waiting on the front step, hoping it would be Carol to open the door. You weren’t sure you could see Dave in this very moment. You wanted to wait until after you dropped Carol off at home, knowing she would be indulging in a few drinks too many and wouldn’t be up for conversation once she was safely home for the evening.

The creak of the door opening pulls you from your thoughts, and staring back at you is Dave. Dave in his grey fitted work slacks, baby blue dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up exposing his beautiful taut forearms. Your breath hitches in surprise, trying your best to conceal any sort of desire you have for this man.

“Hi..” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned your body from head to toe, no words needed to convey the look of desire he tried so hard to make look less than obvious.

“Hi Dave. I.. umm.. Is Carol ready??” The words manage to fumble from your mouth. The look he’s giving you is hard to read but it’s enough to send a yearning want through your body.

“Yes…Yeah! She said she would be down in just a second. Just finishing up. Would you like to come in and wait? I can get you a drink??” Pulling the door open and motioning for you to come in. He seems nervous too.

“Thank you, but I’m good. I don’t plan on drinking tonight but I appreciate the offer.” Stepping through the door and planting yourself in their entryway.

There’s a heaviness in the air as you both stand there in silence.

You avert your eyes as much as possible but you can’t help but look at the man standing before you, they way you’re so drawn to him as he stands there with his head down and hip out, hands resting on his narrow waist line.

The sound of Carol bounding down the stairs has you standing taller, hoping your awkwardness isn’t noticeable.

“Alright don’t wait up for me Dave. I’m sure we’ll be late like always.” Grabbing her purse off the stair railing and shoving her phone and wallet in to it.

“You’re wearing that?!” She points at you. Her expression shows distaste and a sense of jealousy if you had to guess.

You look down at yourself, embarrassment ticking the back of your neck. Looking up you see Dave staring at you, his face hard to read, he must agree with her and you wish you could crawl in a hole and hide away forever.

“Do I look bad?”

“Well it’s not the worst thing you’ve worn. But maybe this will the thing that catches someone’s attention finally.”

“Carol..” Dave’s eyebrows arch up at her comment, his jaw ticking to the side as Carol continues her onslaught of badgering, shifting his stance in the uncomfortableness that now surrounds the three of you.

“We’re late. Let’s go.” Clapping her hands together to announce her departure. Dave goes in for a kiss or a hug but is met with Carols retreating back as she makes her way to the car.

“Have a good night Dave. I’ll make sure she comes back in one piece.” You smile at him sweetly as you begin your journey to the car.

“Just so you know she was wrong. You look nice.”

You stop just before you’ve made it outside, turning to see Dave staring at you, his gaze has softened bit with Carol now out of earshot.

You can’t help but feel giddy at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at him.

“Thanks, Dave.”

You can feel your palms begin to sweat as you try to think of how to bring up the subject to Carol, knowing it won’t be received well.

You turn the volume of the radio down so you’re not competing for her attention.

“Carol, we need to talk. When are you going to tell Dave about the affair? You can’t keep this up forever. Just tell him you’re unhappy and I’m sure he’ll understand or something.”

“Ugh! Can we talk about anything but Dave.” Rolling her eyes and avoiding the topic all together.

“Carol I’m serious.” Your grip on the steering wheel tightening as you continue to question her. “This needs to end. And whether that’s you telling Dave you’re done and want a divorce or you stop this secrecy thing you’re doing and fix your marriage.”

You’re adrenaline is peaking and you can feel yourself questioning whether or not you’re doing the right thing.

“You couldn’t even keep a man long enough to get married, let alone keep an actual relationship— you think I’m going to take advice from you? Ha! That’s real fuckin’ rich coming from you.”

“This is the last time Carol. No more girls night out. No more me covering for you. I’m done— I don’t want to be a part of your lies any more.” Putting your car in park, finality dripping from your voice.

“What are you going to do, tell him yourself.” Swallowing the last bit of confidence you had as she continues. “You don’t think I see the way you look at Dave? That I don’t see the way you make eyes at my husband? You sound like a hypocrite.”

You can feel the heat as it spreads across your face. Are you as horrible as she is? You’d never act on your feelings towards Dave— he’s married, and he loves Carol. You would never involve yourself in someone’s marriage.

“Here, get yourself a drink or two, loosen up a bit. And while you’re at it, take out that stick you have lodge up your ass— might help you get laid.” Venom pouring from her mouth as she exits the car, tossing a few $20 bills on the seat before slamming the door shut.

The bartender keeps the drinks coming, Diet Coke on the rocks is as good as it’s going to get. You’ll pour yourself something stronger the minute you get home. You’re going to need it after tonight’s disastrous argument with Carol.

You’ve been sitting here nearing two hours now, an hour longer than normal and turning down several unwanted advances from inebriated hotel guests who clearly thought they were being slick as they slurred their words.

The bartender silently places another glass in front of you, a pity nod to your pathetic singleness. You’ll be sure to leave him a decent tip for the somewhat non-judgmental service.

A staggering figure heading your direction catches your attention. Carol being helped by who can only assume is Glen— you’d never met him prior to this evening, only been told of him by Carol.

You’re taken aback by him, he’s not what you expected at all. He’s short in stature, pointed features and what you can only assume is a poorly glued on hair piece.

Your brain trying to figure out the how and the what behind his appeal. He is everything Dave is not by appearance standards— you have to stop yourself from comparing this guy to Dave, he’s not yours.

Glen, who’s one bum hip away from an AARP subscription, is edging exhaustion as he tries his best to keep Carol upright as he tries to prop her up once they get to the bar.

Carol attempts to say something, but she is too far gone to make any sense.

“She finished two bottles of champagne, barely touched dinner so she’s a little drunk.” You’re already annoyed by his voice and you’d just met him.

He asks for your help and you both all but carry Carols half limp body to the passenger seat of your car.

Buckling her in, cause you still care for her safety, he mumbles some gross lovey nonsense to her and kisses her with his chapped crinkled lips. Thankfully they’re both unaware of how confused and semi-grossed out you are at their whole interaction.

“I’m Glen by the way.” Leaning further into the car extending his crepey hand over Carol to you in the driver’s seat.

You can smell the champagne on Carol’s breath, definitely smells expensive and nauseating, as she slurs through tries her best to introduce him to you, telling you how Glen is the CEO of her firm and how much money he has— it all making sense now.

You look at his hand then back up to his face. “So I’ve heard. Please close the door.”

He slinks out and closes the door as you start the car, promptly backing out of the space to set out on your drive back to the York’s home.

You were looking forward to washing this night off of you. Hoping a hot shower would strip away the guilt and shame of being an accomplice to Carol’s affair, as well as the what you can only assume the ending of your friendship.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting in Dave and Carol’s driveway. Carol’s snoring the soundtrack to you weighing the pros and cons of telling Dave.

Pros:

He wouldn’t have to suffer Carol’s charade of being the perfect couple to keep up with the Jones’

He wouldn’t have to deal with Carol being insufferable when she doesn’t get her way

He would be happy

Cons:

He might think you’re making things up to break up their marriage

He might tell you you’re meddling

He might hate you

The odds seem pretty even as your brain continues its spiral trying to convince yourself to just tell Dave the truth. The possibility of never seeing him again weighing heavily on your heart.

There’s a knock on your window and you nearly have a heart attack. Dave is bent down trying to get your attention, you’re not sure if he’d been standing there awhile or not.

You roll down your window, the cool air hitting your face, a slight chill creeping over your skin.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” You melt at the sight of his smile, he looks so happy when he does.

“She might have gotten a little carried away tonight.” Looking over at Carol still completely passed out, trying to decide what you should share about your evening.

“That’s okay. I can go ahead get her out.” He’s still looking at you, his gaze is enveloping and sincere. “Would you like to come in for a bit?”

“Umm, yeah— sure. I’ll grab her purse for you.”

Some how Dave makes into the house with cradling her sleeping body, you following on his heels. Even in her drunken state, he’s still an attentive husband.

You set her purse down on the entry table and shuffle about, not really sure what to do with yourself. You’ve been here plenty of times but you all of a sudden feel like a stranger within these walls.

“Go ahead and help yourself to water or snacks if you’re hungry, just going to put Carol to bed and then I’ll be right down.” Looking down at you from the top of the stairs.

You admire his broad shoulders, his T-shirt pulled tight across them and his flexed biceps bulging as he carries his cheating wife to bed.

A drink of cold water was just what you needed to calm yourself down, now the glass sits heavy in your hand as you stand in the kitchen, trying to not let your mind wander off too much.

“Sorry about that. Got her all tucked in for the night. She’s going to hurt tomorrow.” Dave says as he enters the kitchen.

“Mhmmm..” Taking one last sip of water, your throat suddenly dry at the sight of him— a comfy relaxed t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans.

“Yeah…So, you ladies must have had a fun night then??”

You watch him move about the kitchen, grabbing dishes from varied spots on the counters and placing them in the sink.

“Yeah… W-we always have a great time.”

You place your now empty glass on the kitchen island in front of you, trying your best to sound as convincing as possible, but you’re not really sure he’s buying it when he only hums in response.

“I have some of that wine you love in the fridge if you want a glass?” He says pointing over to the fridge behind you as he settles up against the island counter next to you, actively trying to keep some distance between the two of you.

“I didn’t realize you like it too?”

“I— actually I don’t.” A nervous laugh huffs out of his chest, his hands settling in his pockets as he looks down at his feet for a few seconds, then back over to you. “You always bring it over and seemed to really enjoy drinking it. I keep a bottle, you just in case.”

“Oh..” His admission has you reeling.

Why would he go out of his way to do that for you? Carol doesn’t even like the wine, and you know this because she makes a point to tell you how cheap it is compared to the vintage Cabernet any chance she gets, which is usually in front of her other friends and colleagues.

And then it hits you like a ton of bricks out of no where, Dave has been more of a friend to you over the years than Carol ever has been. Always making sure you feel comfortable when he’s around and doing these small little things for you, like a normal friend would.

“Dave… There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?” His brows furrowed as he looks at you with concern.

“Umm, these Girl’s Nights aren’t really that…” You take a deep breath before you continue to share your truth. “Carol…” The words seem to get caught in your throat, but you decide it’s now or never. “Carol’s been having an affair with her boss. She came up with this weekly night out thing so she could meet up with him and I some how got caught up in it. I told her she needed to tell—“

“I know.” You think you hear him laugh as he says it.

“What? You know about the affair?!”

“Yeah. Known for awhile actually.”

“And you never said anything?!”

“I work for the government and she’s really not as subtle as she think she is. Plus I needed to quietly collect all the information to help my case when we go to court. Knowing Carol, she’ll try to twist everything.”

Your hands planted firmly on the countertop to hold yourself up as you process what he just told you. You don’t know if this is a relief that Dave knows, or makes you look even worse that you hadn’t said something sooner, your head spinning in circles.

“Wait! What do you mean when you go to court?” Your attention snapping back over to where he’s still standing.

“I filed for divorce last week. The paperwork is waiting for her on the nightstand next to the Advil and water she’ll need when she wakes up.”

You can’t help feel relieved and happy Dave knows but also a little sad that he now has to deal with this. Divorces can be messy and knowing Carol, she isn’t going to go down without a fight.

“I’m so sorry Dave. I should have told you sooner. I can’t believe I just let her think she could use me for her own gain.” Your head hangs down a bit, you wish you had stood up for yourself all those times Carol was anything but kind to you— but hindsight is always 20/20 as they say.

Dave must sense your emotions as he slowly places his hand on yours, his thumb drawing small delicate circles over your wrist.

Your eyes are glued to where his hand is, it’s warm and tender. The tiny movements have your heart pounding, you’re not sure if he realizes the effect it’s having on you.

“Hey..” He leans back a bit to get your attention back to him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, this isn’t your fault at all. Even with out the affair, I think this would still be our outcome.”

“What do you mean? You seemed so in love with her.”

“I mean, yeah, I do love her— did?” His jaw ticks to the side a bit, trying to gather his thoughts. “We’ve both been distant for awhile now. I’ve been sleeping in the guest room for a month— we’ve essentially been separated under the same roof.”

“Carol never said anything.”

“I’m sure she wanted everyone to still think she had this perfect life outside of these walls.”

“Doesn’t really seem fair to you.”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking at you with a slight grin. “I could say the same about how she treats you.” And he’s right.

“You look really beautiful tonight.” His voice is shaky, his smile soft as he takes you in again. Pushing himself off the counter he inches closer until he’s standing directly behind you.

“Th-thank you.”

His fingers toying with yours as his firm chest meets your back, heat radiating from him as he cages you in.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, always wanted to tell you how beautiful you are.” His breath fanning hot against your ear. Your breathing heavy and rapid as he confesses his thoughts to you.

“Tell me to stop and I will…”

You turn so you’re facing him, your body giving in to what it has so desperately been craving, your hands seeking out more of him as they slide up his chest to his broad shoulders.

His eyes flitting up and down, your lips and eyes his main focus as he waits for a response.

“Don’t stop…please.” Ever.

It’s magnetic the way his lips collide into yours, a moment you’d only ever dreamed about in private, never thinking it would ever become your reality.

His strong hands work over your body, grabbing, pushing, pulling—taking advantage of having you this close to him.

Dave is a force, a heady mix of carnal desire and affection— a man starved of love.

The minute your lips part, his tongue is seeking out yours, heavy but sweet as he devours your mouth— you try your best to give him the same energy he’s pouring into you.

Your hips will themselves towards his, a slow deliberate grind against him, your fingers accentuating your need for more— and more he’s willing to give.

He pats your hip, signaling for you to hop on the counter, his hands grabbing the backs of your thighs helping you up.

A wet sensation has you nipples perking, Dave taking the weight of your breast in his mouth while he gently pinches and rolls your other nipple. The feeling of his warm mouth and the cool fabric of the dress against you sensitive skin elicits a small whimper, your head falling back and back arching into his touch.

“Dave..” You’re not even sure what you were going to say, your chest heaving and head clouded by lust. You’re putty at the hands of this man.

“Yeah, tell me—tell me what you want.” Kissing his every open space available to him— the top of your exposed chest all the way up your neck. His hands pushing your dress higher as he pushes your legs apart, prompting you to wrap them around him and pulling him in close.

“You. Always wanted you!”

A moan rips from his throat and he kissing you like he’s not sure if he’s ever going to again, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. Your own hands moving about, gripping his hair and caressing his face as your mouths work together.

Arousal thick and swarming, fueling the sexual fire that’s about to burn this fucking kitchen down.

At some point the reality of what is happening cracks through your brain and your body goes rigid— guilt washing over you like an ice cold bath.

Dave senses the shift in your demeanor and pulls away, brows pinched in concern as he tries to read your expression.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay— did I hurt you?” He’s breathless, his hair a mess from your doing, his lips full and he looks so beautiful in this post lustrous haze.

“N-no. I’m fine, I promise. I just— I can’t do this. I mean I want to, trust me I do. But it feels wrong.” You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh, leaning forward to rest your forehead on Dave’s. “You’re still technically married and I’m no better than Carol if we let this continue with where this was headed.”

You can feel Dave nod in agreement before he pulls away, a brief kiss to your temple before he’s helping you off the counter and righting your clothes.

Your heart sinks at how quiet he is when he walks you to your car, you’re not sure what to say or how to feel.

You want to kiss him one last time, fearing this is it for the both of you, but you opt for a hug instead. His arms holding you close, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in one last time.

“Good night Dave.” Emotions high but you do your best to keep them hidden until you’re in the safety of your car.

“Night.” A subtle nod to you as you approach your car.

The drive home is bleak, ending a long time friendship and then turning down the man you’ve been in love with can conjure up a lot of emotions.

Time will tell whether you made the right decision.

Several Months Later…

Your work life has been hectic to say the least. But it’s kept your mind busy following that evening at the York’s house.

You hadn’t heard from Carol since that night, and you can only assume she thinks you told Dave which prompted his filing for divorce.

You wish you could say you were sad to lose your friend, but the truth is you feel lighter with out her in your life. You didn’t realize how miserable you were and how much she had made you feel unworthy of so many things in your life.

It felt like a blessing in disguise.

Then there was Dave. You hadn’t seen him either since leaving his home. You’d replayed that evening in the kitchen over and over again, which made you long for more than you should have. You’d both let feelings get in the way of what was right, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t wish things were different.

You think of him often as you go about your days and hope he’s doing well.

“Hi, what can I get you.” The sweet barista asks as you walk up to the counter in your neighborhood coffee shop.

“I’ll take a Latte with an extra shot and an everything bagel, to go please.” You have a few meetings today, so you need as much energy as possible.

“That’ll be $10.50.”

You begin to dig out your wallet to pay, only to realize you’d forgotten your wallet at home on the counter where you were paying bills last night.

“Shit! I—I forgot my wallet at home. I’m sorry, you can cancel—“

“Here. You can add it to my order.” A stranger with an oddly familiar voice steps up and hands the barista his credit card. “I’ll take an Americano and the same bagel order.”

As you go to thank the man for the kind gesture, you realize that this stranger is not in fact a stranger.

“Dave?”

“Hey!” His smile seems brighter and more relaxed. “How are you?”

“I’m— I’ve been good. How have you been?” You stammer over your words a bit, he was the last person you were expecting to see this morning.

“Can’t complain really. Work is, work and being a single divorcee isn’t all that bad.”

“Hmm. Single?” You try to contain yourself, but you’re just slightly giddy at his singleness.

“Yeah. Officially for about a month.”

“Congratulations— I think.” That makes him laugh.

“Thanks. Hey, do you want to sit for a bit.” Pointing over to an open table. “If you have time, I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

You glance down at your watch, your first meeting isn’t for 2 hours. You smile, grateful for your scheduling for the day.

“Yeah. I have plenty of time.”

#Dave York #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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safety-writes-noms · 3 months

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Ok, so firstly, I absolutely LOVE the dynamic between Callisto and Oliver. Just, Oliver trusting his big bro so much, and Callisto caring and protecting his little bro is just *mwa*.

Second (the actual question, lol), does Callisto ever figure out that he wasn't gonna hurt Oliver when he nomed him? And if he does, does it come up again? Like - does Oliver get in more trouble, and Callistos just like - "agh gotta save my baby bro!!" Nom.

Just overall, any info about them you're willing to give me I would absolutely die for. I love them and their dynamic so fricking much, and the fact that its platonic, tbh just makes it better. So many people focus on the romance part of vore, that I just get so excited when I see something like this!! So so lovely!!!

YES!! While i do think that the romance part of vore is pretty cool i find that there’s not a whole bunch of platonic stuff out there either.

While cal is dealing with the existential dread of knowing the full extent of his inhumanness, he’s also trying to figure out why there’s an increased number of reported attacks. theyre dismissed as bear attacks, crazy accidents, etc, and he’s getting suspicious as to why they’re all getting written off so quickly.

Also, despite promising oliver that he’ll stay, cal still keeps his distance because his instincts start acting up around oli and he has no idea what to make of them. He’s terrified of himself and what he could possibly do to his family.

Ethel comes up with family counseling, which is basically just one on one Cal and Oliver. It’s horribly awkward and it feels weird for both of them because they used to be super close and now neither know what to say.

it takes a while and they try to mend their relationship although there's setbacks and some misunderstandings that need to be cleared up. Callisto also is reluctantly convinced to delve deeper into his not so human parts of himself if only to find out if he's genuinely a threat to his loved ones.

surprise surprise, he manages to find out that 1. he doesn't really want to murder his little brother or his family (yay!) and 2. now that his brain has finally caught up with the rest of his biological instincts, he's slightly more open to exploring the rest of what he can do. slightly. he's not overly enthusiastic but its a start, at least.

meanwhile Oliver is struggling with nightmares and though he knows that Cal really wasn't trying to kill him (he was informed immediately after Cal figured it out) its kinds hard to get rid of the fear. it's weird for him since he desperately wants his brother to stay and he wants to spend time with him like he used to, he just can't get over it and it's so frustrating. he's struggling and while he is getting better slowly, it's still impacting him. his trust has been shaken though. on bad days he can't take being in enclosed, dark spaces and he hates the warmth of his blankets twisted around him at night.

(I got sidetracked sorry :v)

in the future, Cal will become secure enough with his identity to accept the fact that he gets weird urges every now and then and they're not the murderous sort. Oliver gets frustrated with his slow improvement and just decides to confront his fears head on, hoping that it'll just solve the problem all together and just asks Cal to nom him.

Cal is incredibly hesistant, but agrees nonetheless since Oliver says it'll help him. plus his instincts are going nuts in his head and while he has the will to ignore them, he can't deny how content he'd be with finally satisfying them. it goes okay, but a definite improvement from last time and Oliver manages to overcome some of his more irrational fears. still some setbacks but overall, not the worst. they're still improving :)

#extreme cuddling #sfw vore #sw answers asks #Callisto and Oliver #nonsexual vore

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enemyoflactose · 20 days

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Tell me something about Museumshipping that you haven't said before. Give us a new headcanon. 💜

Sorry this took so long, I had to think and then got sidetracked.

Ishizu is actually a very punny person. She likes incredibly stupid jokes/puns and horrible cheesy pick lines make her day, but because she looks like a stoic icy person no one actually knows this.

Not even Marik and Odion because they don't really hang with her that much because it's kinda awkward.

Then, along comes Yami Bakura. The pun lord. Every time he can make a shitty joke, he makes a shitty joke.

Doesn't matter if it's at his expense, another person's, or doesn't fit the mood at all, a bad joke is coming out of his mouth.

One day, while Ishizu is showing off some tablets to some people, Yami Bakura makes a dumbass joke like "bro was stoned" in reference to monsters being sealed away.

This joke is met with complete silence, until Ishizu sputters out the sweetest, cutest giggle ever.

This completely encourages more jokes from Yami Bakura because no one ever laughs at his jokes!

He is then promptly kicked out of the room for causing a distraction.

#yugioh #yami bakura #ishizu ishtar #museumshipping

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polarisbibliotheque · 17 days

Note

Are you into MBTI? If yes, may I ask for your idea on DMC characters types? If no then feel free to skip this ask, sorry for bothering you.

First things first, my beloved: DON’T APOLOGIZE. None of you are EVER bothering me by sending an ask – unless, of course, you’re completely crass, deranged, borderline criminal (or full criminal) with your words or just gratuitously rude. Those types are bothersome and will get blocked and ignored.

Unless I’m on an Axl Rose like rampage and want to burn and fistfight people along my way, then I’ll use the stupid being in question to pour all my anger and have a good reason to spend hours in therapy :)

But you are NOT one of those, my dear. That’s a very fun question and do feel free to ask me random things like that, I enjoy answering!

Now, I’m not really big on MBTI – I know enough about mine and my family’s so I can make things work between me and them. I also like to know my friends MBTI’s because the memes are usually freakishly accurate with all our personalities xD

I am an INTP! Quite proud, if I might say so hahahaha I like the weird vibes and I have adopted in my heart Sherlock Holmes as an INTP ‘cause he was my role model when I was a teen (I know, HORRIBLE role model, but it is what it is) – and that’s how I got into MBTI.

(more under the cut, this answer is LONG)

Big introduction for me to say: VERGIL, THIS LITTLE SHIT. INTJ. I DON’T EVEN HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT.

I’ll start with him and then Dante. I won’t share my 2 cents on the rest of the crew because either they aren’t that much developed as the twins or I’m not really trusting my MBTI judging abilities here.

Without further ado…

Vergil

I debated quite a WHILE on Vergil, to be honest, because we all know INTJ is the typical villain archetype used everywhere on media because heaven forbid a villain is not calculating and devoided of emotions.

And there’s where I got a little stuck: emotions.

Vergil does have emotions, and I dare to say his run even deeper than Dante’s, so I got a little sidetracked. But then I took my own personality, INTP, and thought about it for a while. I have the same problem as Vergil: my emotions do run deep and I’m always guarding them in a dark, secret place inside of me so I won’t get hurt, opting for a more thinking, analytical and practical approach rather than the feeling approach. And oh boy does my life get difficult with feeling types like my aunt, my mom and even my sister.

I got to the conclusion, then, it’s not how you feel, but rather how you present yourself. I took the test as if I was Dante (I needed that to figure him out, not sorry) and a lot of questions are more leaning on that. It’s not that you don’t feel or don’t understand feelings, it’s more like you have a different approach when doing things and processing all of that – because it can be quite overwhelming.

So, there we go, Vergil is BLATANTLY Introverted and Thinking. The Introverted I got from what I heard some people saying that it’s not that “oh I like talking to people/I don’t like talking to people”, it’s energy: at the end of the day, do you prefer being alone to recharge or around people to recharge?

Me and my sister are opposites on that. My sister was always quieter and shy when she was a kid, and I was expansive and always came back with a new friend. Lo and behold, I’m an Introvert and she is an Extrovert. How? I HAVE and I NEED time alone, completely for myself, with NO ONE around at certain times of the day and I do get AWFULLY tired when I’m being social for too long, needing some me time with tea and a good book. My sister NEEDS to be around her friends after a long, tiring week at work, famously going to 3 parties in a row, in 3 different days, different groups, outfits and all, exiting one party to go to the other, and then BAM going to work on a Monday completely replenished. I’m an Introvert. She is an Extrovert.

Dante and Vergil seal of approval here hahahahaha

His Intuitive part, though, comes from the art – poetry, philosophy, reading, education. Vergil is obviously BIG on that, loving poetry since he was a child and always being found in libraries, we can all picture him going to art galleries, concerts, operas and such. But, particularly, I extend that to his thirst for knowledge: everyone who enjoys reading the dense stuff he does, tends to fall for philosophy, sociology, the metaphysical part of physics, mathematics, all that. There was a reason why great mathematicians of the past were also philosophers: knowledge walks together.

Loving that deeply, Vergil has to be quite Intuitive. Yes, he will do things with discipline and how they should be done to achieve the result – but he will rebel and do things his own way if the knowledge he acquired so far points him to another direction; he will follow his intuition. He’s not one to dismiss the big questions in life: quite the contrary, I think one of his favorite past-times would be drinking wine along his s/o while talking about philosophy into the wee hours of the night as if they are the only people in the world.

Vergil is an open minded, curious and always searching for the meaning of things kind of person, and I will die on this hill. There is no way a guy who likes learning so much would be against challenging his own point of views: to learn, you have to first be a novice; and to improve, you have to admit there’s much you still don’t know and keep an open mind to fail and do it again, and again, and again, until you master what you are learning. Just the way he fights tells me he is very much like that and I’m still dying on this hill.

And lastly, Judging. No, not because he’s the judgy bitch of the series who’s always side-eying someone and sighing while saying “pathetic” just because they got scared by their own shadow. I have to say I wasn’t too sure on this one when I realized Vergil could end up as an INTP and that bitch can’t be an INTP like me, I claimed it.

Jokes aside, Vergil can be quite Perceiving at times, because, wanting or not, he has had his moments of needing to improvise and spot opportunities that weren’t quite on his schedule… But, I do have to admit, INTPs are a mess and Vergil is FAR from being a mess – and when I say a mess, we are everywhere: reading 5 books at the same time, leaving them scattered all around the house, laying upside down in bed to think and come up with a great idea for something… INTPs aren’t pragmatic or schedule oriented. And Vergil would DIE in an environment like this, I think.

So, my conclusion was: his ability to survive does come from his Perceiving characteristics, but his pragmaticism comes from his Judging – and the second is a lot stronger in him. He would like the schedule, he would do things as he has programmed and, if you interrupt him, he’s counting the minutes to go back to his schedule or else everything he has carefully programmed for the week will be delayed and his plans are all but GONE (read: Verge at the Temen-ni-gru screaming “WHY ISN’T THIS WORKING?!” when ALL the plans he carefully executed for WEEKS so he could get to THAT moment and open the gates of Hell just went down the drain ‘cause he missed something in his calculations. Man is in excruciating pain he missed something and ALL was for NOTHING and he’d have to TRY again).

Verdict: Vergil is an INTJ. Expected, annoyingly villainous personality, but it does fit him wonderfully.

Plus, we are the 'we don't have feelings' types :D

Dante

Oh, Dante. My beloved. My red devil. The man who haunts my dreams.

Seriously, I had a REALLY hard time pinpointing his MBTI.

Remember I said I took the test as him? Yes. I did. To check some things and argue against others hahahahaa

I don’t think Dante is as black and white as Vergil. The blue devil is almost textbook INTJ, but Dante…? I have my doubts on SO many parts of his personality, because, unlike Vergil, Dante does a LOT just for show.

Starting with the Extroverted/Introverted. Most people won’t even think before saying Dante is an Extrovert, but I had my doubts when taking things in consideration. What we usually see is that, yes, he does love being around people – but Dante spends most of his time alone, without electricity, reading his old magazines at his shop, sleeping or eating pizza by himself.

Depression? Yes. YES. This man is more depressed than the San Andreas Fault. This can make people behave differently from their personalities, so I had to think a little more about it. Dante doesn’t really go out of his way to be around people, to party with his friends or just have a nice time with them around. Dante wants to be alone, because he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be with people – and that they are better off without him, safer. He puts them in danger, at least that’s what’s on his mind. So, he isolates himself and prefers to spend time on his own, away from everything and everyone.

That’s where the energy thing comes into play! What gives Dante energy? Honestly, my man looks drained and just the dust of his being whenever they get to his shop and he’s been living in that condition for months. During the games AND after the games, though? He looks a lot better – even if he has been beaten up by a bunch of demons. And that’s because, I think, Dante gets energized by being around people – friends, family, loved ones. Just like my sister, he can conquer the world after going to 5 parties in a row. Vergil, in the other hand, would be drained and dying by the second one, just like Dante is when he hasn’t been around people too much, always isolating himself.

So, despite his depression that makes him behave differently, Dante is an Extrovert in my book.

One that I don’t even think too much about him is the Perceiving trait. Dante is like that, 10/10. He can’t thrive on a schedule, things in his life are Everything Everywhere All At Once, and my man is in his lane with that. Try to fit Dante in a box with a set routine and too many rules, he’s dying. Aside from that, he has a knack for improvising and finding the best opportunities in unexpected situations.

Hence why he has so many freaking weapons and is just using all of them and all of his fighting styles at the same time, taunting demons and dancing Macarena right after – and making it all look like it makes the most absolute fucking sense. No one can pull that off like Dante, king of winging it.

Now, I do believe he is Intuitive. Dante might not be the art and poetry type like Vergil, but he is well educated. He has to be, to do what he does. And I do believe his thing for philosophy shows when Dante is lecturing demons: that WHOLE answer he gives Agnus about what demons lack compared to humans, that is VERY much philosophy. Dante doesn’t just go and takes everything at face value, because, if he did, he would very much say the obvious: demons are, objectively, stronger than humans. But all the heart, all the internal things that make humans stronger than demons… That’s philosophy.

I can see Dante enjoying movies – blockbusters, yes, packed with action and special effects, but let’s remember… Titanic is a blockbuster. And there’s so much heart in that movie, so much philosophy, so much about choosing your own fate and not being tied to the one that was handed to you… Titanic can pack one hell of an existential punch and make you think about so much in your life – you just have to be open to it.

Differently from Vergil, Dante wasn’t the library and heavy books sort of guy. But he was the guy to go to the movies, to watch all of that. To go back home (wherever his home was at the moment, even if just a place for him to crash for a while) and think about everything he watched in the silent darkness of his room. To think about the things Eva taught him – and see the value of all that.

He’s not the type to go to an art gallery, or read philosophy, or go to the opera. But he will go if he is invited, he will discuss things the way he learned them, and he will enjoy it. He’d be more than willing to talk about what makes humans so precious and spend hours doing so, as he would be open to listen to his s/o explaining what makes him so human despite his demonic heritage. And he would spend days thinking about it, always willing to discuss those topics if his s/o wanted to.

He's not textbook Intuitive like Vergil, I think, but he still is, in his very own way. I’d say Vergil is academically Intuitive, while Dante learned his Intuitive trait on the streets – we all say Dante is a safespace for everything, and a man like has to be open minded and curious. If he wasn’t, he would have never welcomed Trish and given her a chance to be human: he would’ve killed her right away for being a demon. And that isn’t our red devil.

Last but not least, Dante is a Feeling. I’m always dying on this hill, even if that one ALSO made me have some doubts.

Because you see, Dante just pretends to be a goof, but he isn’t. He is very intelligent and cunning, very perceiving and observing, but wrapped in a reckless rockstar package. It’s his own way of coping, but that is what makes him SUCH a great devil hunter (sorry, Nero). Even if we might disagree on this, I do believe Dante has his emotions very much controlled.

Which is a little evidenced by the lyrics on his theme song in DMC V, Subhuman (I know we ALL love Bury The Light and Devil Trigger but OH MY GOD, I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT HOW SUBHUMAN IS AWESOME AND FITTING FOR DANTE). The song is VERY explicit how Dante is always controlling his rage and keeping his demon on a very tight leash so he has control over it all the fucking time. That isn’t very Feeling in my book – it’s quite Thinking, like Vergil.

That’s what made me think a little about Vergil’s as well. I have what might be an unpopular opinion about the twins after thinking so much about them and seeing how they react and act in all of the games: Vergil has a tendency to loose control and overkill, while Dante has a tendency to let his rage burn at the exact moment he needs it and use his power just as much as he needs to get the job done. Dante is more controlled with his emotions than Vergil – and in my opinion, it’s because Vergil bottles up and ignores his emotions until they become a storm that can’t be stopped (cough cough personal experience cough cough) while Dante controls things so he can use his emotions and let them be expressed/gets them off his system in “safe” environments for him, which would be killing demons.

So, why the heck is Dante a Feeling in my book? Precisely why Vergil is a Thinking. It has to do with how they present themselves – and that is the point that makes them so different and butt heads almost every game.

The devil on Dante’s leash is his rage, the feeling he allows and wants to run amok and uncontrolled is his love. Dante controls his bursts of anger and the demonic blood who craves for mayhem – but he doesn’t control his human heart that does everything out of empathy and love. He will run to the rescue when his loved ones are in danger, he will protect weak people against the powerful ones, he will lecture corrupted humans who see nothing but power in front of them, he will cry and he will do everything in his power to keep love alive and thriving. He will react immediately, he will understand, he will feel the pain of those who are injured and begging for help – he will let his heart melt and do everything for them.

Therefore, Dante is a Feeling. And I think that’s what makes him and Vergil opposites and always fighting: Vergil wants power and puts logic over feelings, avoiding them like the plague, while Dante wants love and puts feelings over logic, embracing them and acting out of what his human heart tells him is the right thing to do. The whole series is based on this – at least in my opinion.

Verdict: Dante is an ENFP. Didn’t really expect it, but after analyzing with care, it makes a lot of sense to me.

Also, all the memes with ENFP x INTJ relationship dynamics I just checked are basically Dante and Vergil in a nutshell - I’ll leave some of them below and you guys will HAVE to forgive me not really crediting the people who created these memes, I honestly just found on google and wanted to share so you can have an idea of what I’m talking about.

But I honestly have been wheezing for the past hour and I thank you SO MUCH anon for this ask – I hope you enjoyed this little TED Talk about the Sparda Twins’ personalities please Capcom hire me to write official canon about them

If this isn't Dante and Vergil, I dunno what is

And last but not least:

That's all the games in a nutshell, really.

#polaris speaks #polaris answers #answered asks #anon ask #devil may cry #dante sparad #vergil sparda #dmc dante #dmc vergil #mbti types #mbti personality types #seriously the last meme when I saw it #I was on the floor laughing like a madwoman #it's precisely Vergil being a competitive bitch and Dante just being chill #ending up traumatized by his twin brother's shenanigans #while said little bitch is on his way to fight god even #(in this case Mundus the king of hell but you get what I mean)

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