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euaphoric · 7 months

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🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 1. 🕸️

Show You What Devotion Is . . .

[PAIRING] jungkook x f!reader

[GENRE] bf/gf, established relationship, pwp [WARNINGS] fluff, smut, small mentions of insecurities, body worship, devotion kink, face-sitting, biting, spit kink (sorta, kinda?)

summary: you don’t think you’re good enough for your boyfriend but he proves those thoughts wrong by showing just how much undying love he truly has for you.

wc -> 2.0k

A/N: first post of the month, 30 more to go woohoo~ so excited to do this and hopefully this’ll help me get a better idea of what i like/don’t like writing in the future. **fyi oc is told that she tastes like candy but obvi in the real world if ur hoo-ha tastes like candy that’s not normal .. o_O buttt this is fiction so just pretend they can sjdjfjsjjs.

kinktober m.list

this day simply couldn’t get any worse. you missed the bus back home just by a fraction of a minute, all because you wanted to speak with your professor at his office hours but now in hindsight, you wished you never did. it was practically a waste of time anyway, he wasn’t giving much worthy feedback on your presentation and the anxiety about your final grade grew rampant as the semester progressed. ‘fuck, guess’ll wait for the next one in 15’ you mumble to yourself, annoyed and exhausted from earlier’s events. one side of you just wants to call jungkook to come pick you up but your other subconscious is telling you that’s selfish— don’t make him drive all the way here when you can just wait a measly 15 more minutes.

sigh~

it won’t kill you to wait, it’s not like you were in a rush to see him right now. it was actually quite the opposite, you weren’t prepared to tell him how you completely bombed your presentation. well, you wouldn’t say completely but it definitely wasn’t up to your impossibly high standards. public speaking was the only class you struggled with the most, you could articulate your words precisely in writing but saying it out loud? that was a totally different story. you have to outgrow this “fear” over speaking in front of an audience if you want to practice law one day. no one’s going to take you seriously if you can’t even read a single paragraph without tripping over syllables. all you could do was replay those embarrassing moments and internally cringe, almost missing the bus again from being so deep in thought— what a nightmare.

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“baaabyyyy!” the sweet sound of jungkook’s voice instantly made everything better, at least for now. his peachy soft lips went straight to your face almost immediately, smothering you with dozens of kisses while caging his beautiful, toned arms around your willowed frame. “you came home so late, was expectin’ you half an hour agooo.” he whines immaturely, holding you so tight he’s nearly squeezing you at this point. he must’ve really missed you. “i missed the bus… i wanted to talk with my professor about my presentation and thought i could make it but i guess not..” you pause, thinking if you should share what’s really crossing your mind, “…i was gonna call you to pick me up but didn’t think it was worth all that hassle.” now hearing yourself say that out loud makes it seem like he isn’t a reliable boyfriend, he very much is, it’s just the over-thinker in you. it’ll mark your 2 years of dating next week yet somehow you still felt like you were burdening him at times.

if the embodiment of ‘???’ was a person, that would be jungkook right about now; he couldn’t fathom you thinking such unlawful things. “hassle? what’re you talking about love, nothing is a hassle for me when it comes to you, absolutely nothing. next time you need me don’t hesitate to call babe,” he reassures sincerely. loosening his embrace momentarily to turn you around, he brings your chests together while his hands wrap your pretty waist, feeling his rapid heartbeat against yours. “i’m serious, you better call me next time.” the sternness of his voice alarming you that he’ll probably lecture you for this. he texts you hourly just to check in and make sure you’re okay, a simple drive to pick you up is the bare minimum to him. “well besides that.. how’d your presentation go?” jungkook’s doe-like eyes widen as he interrogates with questions. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” you silently mutter, already dreading what the final grades were going to be. “that bad, huh?” he proceeds with even more questions, “did you remember like we practiced last night?” you nod, lowering your head to stare at the floor, confidence dwindling by the second.

it truly hurts him to see you upset over something you’ve worked so passionately on, all just for it to feel ruined in the end. he hates that you’re not your usual bubbly and cute self, it makes him do everything he can to cheer you up. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it now, i get it. you probably did well though, i bet you messed up like one time and no one even noticed ‘cause you’re so pretty!” he teases, inked, slender digits trail up to find solace on your chin, lifting your head up to face each other again. “stop stressing over dumb little imperfections, it never ends well.” “oh, you’re one to talk!” you whine into his chest, unable to deal with his hypocrisy. not jungkook of all people giving you this speech when he is literally the #1 perfectionist king. “and i’m not even that pretty..” you quietly mumble, hoping he wouldn’t catch that. “wait, what did you just say?!” his voice raised an octave of confusion, you would think someone had just told him the most horrific story, but no, here he is on the verge of a mental breakdown over his girlfriend feeling insecure. “i said i’m not that—” “no no, i heard you the first time. my brain just isn’t registering the fact that you don’t think you’re anything less than a walking goddess of this earth.” he was flabbergasted to hear you talk with such low confidence, “sometimes, i feel like you can do so much better..” that’s what fully broke his heart as you spoke, it pained him to know you harbored all these feelings deep down inside.

the only answer in solving this dilemma is by being a better boyfriend to you, showering you with even more compliments than he already does daily, and most importantly, proving that he is 100% devoted to you and you only.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

eyes half-lidded in lust, limbs spasming and going numb from the continuous stimulation, you can’t do much but moan out jungkook’s name on an endless loop. the first hour, jungkook took his heavenly time with your delicate, angelic body. everything about you is divine to him, he wants to appreciate every single inch of you, even the parts you despise. he dedicated his lips to kissing and pleasuring your whole body, leaving no surface of you untouched. he’d rave in between kisses about how beautiful you are, how lucky he is and how he’s willing to do anything to make you happy. if being love-drunk was a disease, he’d rather fall into a coma and never wake up than find the cure. he’s living his best life as he cherishes your innate beauty, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as he reaches them, taking ample time to caress and praise your dreamy body. he’s always had a thing for your cute plush thighs, the way they’d bounce and jiggle when he plays with them makes him all giddy inside. he can never get enough of them or you, leaving numerous bite marks and coating them with his spit, “you’re a work of art princess, a masterpiece. don’t think any different.” jungkook murmured against you, voice laced with pure seduction and infatuation.

body buzzing in anticipation as he kept working his way up, leaving a chaste peck to your left and right hip bone, firmly gripping your thighs as he drags his lips to your center. the urge to make out with your cunt was insatiable for him, he needed his face buried between your legs, there was no place he’d rather be. “after this you’re gonna use my face as your throne and m’gonna give you the most mind blowing orgasm, capeesh?” jungkook props his head up for a second before kissing below your belly button. “c-capeeshh.” you hazily reply, mind still fuzzy from just his kisses and touch alone. you know you’re in for a wild ride whenever you sit on your boyfriend’s face, he always eats you like a starved man and makes sure you cum multiple times, he takes such pride in himself for having you be a twitching and moaning mess by the end of it all. his only goal and mission for the night was to make you feel so good that you reach your climax hard enough to see memories of your life flash before your eyes. as he made his way up to your waist, you melt into his warmth, craving him more and more as time goes on. you thought you felt your soul leave your body when he unsuspectingly attaches his mouth to your nipple, babbling nothing coherent as you rut your hips into nothing.

as much as jungkook wanted to keep the teasing going, he was so down bad to have you sit on his face in this moment, ready to show exactly how much love and obsession he has for you. “need you so bad babe.. need to taste you,” he sighs, shamelessly gawking over you as he maneuvers you on top. “you’re so fuckin’ sexy mama... would love to be in between these pretty thighs for the rest of my life.” you couldn’t help but blush at his dirty talk, feeling flustered as you slide off your damp polka dot panties, watching as he licks his lips, planning to devour you whole. jungkook was so excited, you’re always scared of hurting him whenever you sit on his face but he reassures you often that he’ll be fine, “you’re not gonna kill me babe, trust me. even if you did i think it’d be sick to put ‘died from too much pussy juice’ on my gravestone anyway.” he lightly jokes, never taking anything in the slightest bit serious. you position your lower half, hovering over his face as he stares directly at your wetness. the tent in his boxers only surged, he was so hopelessly attracted to you, he could cum just from giving you head.

“fuuuu- oh my god so good, so good! yess, keep going babyy..” your legs shake violently as you rock your hips back and forth, rendering a steady motion against your boyfriend’s soothing tongue. as you throw your head back in pleasure and delight, jungkook grips onto your thighs for dear life, using every bit of manpower he possessed in making sure you don’t move away. “mmmhh~” he’d hum into your sensitive, eliciting the harmonious moans he loves to hear every night. you clutch onto the floral sheets of the bed, hand full of jet-black hair in the other. “mmm.. taste so sweet for me..” he grunts against your dripping core, “like candy..” a few more sloppy licks then he’s back to aggressively sucking your clit. you were grinding his face with more speed and didn’t care as much about hurting him anymore, if he really was uncomfortable he’d speak up. jungkook would never do that though, you are his goddess and he wants this night to be all about pleasing you. “uhhh, t-think m’gonna cum..” you felt that familiar knot in your tummy, hips subconsciously rutting faster into his mouth as eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t tell much of his condition below you but his stamina never slowed, eating you out with everlasting hunger as his grip refuses to unravel. “cum for me princess, please.” his encouraging words help reach your high, feeling a whole new state of nirvana as your chest heaves, “fuck, jungkook, i love you!” you cry out, clenching around his tongue as he licks every crevice of you clean. the room spun around as you catch your breath, having trouble regaining your balance for a split second.

you droop down onto your heavy panting boyfriend’s chest, lightly sticking to his dewy skin from all the built up sweat. “sooo, how’re you feeling now compared to earlier? did it work? are all your insecurities vanished and gone now?” he’s back to his normal self again, asking his little series of questions. you giggle, “i feel great koo, definitely helped me relax..” flashing a warm smile as he reaches out for you to cuddle, “i must’ve done some life-changing shit in my past lives to deserve someone as good as you.”

#kinktober 2023 #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x f reader #jungkook fic #bts fics #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabbles

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messydiabolical · 8 months

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i’d once read a Mass Effect take that has been stewing in my melon ever since, about Wrex and him demanding a cure for the genophage during the war in 3. (I think it was on twitter but I can’t remember for sure. Just the idea of it stuck with me.) The general sentiment was that this was a dick move on his part, that there were “bigger problems” and this wasn’t the time and it was cruel and manipulative of him to put Shepard in that position. He should have helped out first and Shepard would have helped him back once the war was over. A lot of people chimed in agreeing, saying how they stopped liking Wrex after that. It bothered me for a bunch of reasons I didn’t feel I could adequately articulate, but i’m gonna try now. Prepare for my meandering thought style! The governing bodies of the Mass Effect Galaxy have repeatedly proven that they believe themselves superior to other species and know what’s best for everyone. They don’t let all species have a say in the council, always look out for their own species’ interests in so much as it pertains to keeping things as they are, and will happily go along with literal genocide to aid this. They approve of secret police and biological warfare espionage tactics. They weaponise bureaucracy to hide their cruelty behind ‘oh red tape has us bound, sorry uwu’. I’m going to try to remain pertinent to the Wrex subject but as one great example of these governing bodies ways of dealing with percieved outsiders: The first contact war is a great example of how ludicrous and fascist things are.. ‘It’s ilegal to use this thing so we’re going to kill you for it’ without so much as a heads up. How were humans supposed to know that, exactly? The governing bodies of this place do not care about anyone outside their own self interests. Fall out of line and they will work to end you. Until you prove you might be useful or of interest to them in some way (or a threat). And then of course we later learn the asari were breaking these laws themselves, hoarding this tech to stay superior. Classic. Anyway, back to Wrex. Wrex knows this. Wrex has seen how the krogan are regarded and treated, the dangerous monolith species, outsiders who can never be let in, never forgiven, never given a chance to grow or change. For a long arse time. “But the krogan were getting out of control and also committing genocide, the genophage was a last ditch resort to stop a galactic war” … And it’s been hundreds of years since then. That 'last ditch resort' wasn’t used as a stop gap, a reset to even out the playing field so that new negotiations and relations could be developed. It was used to end the krogan, and has been actively maintained to continue that, ever since. Do you really, truly believe that if Wrex petitioned the council/ world leaders to negotiate reversing the genophage, they’d even let him have an audience with them? And if they did, do you really think these people, with their history and all the shit they pull, would listen and be reasonable? I can already hear the responses, that weaponised bureaucracy (“you raise an interesting point Mr Wrex but unfortunately we are recovering from a war don’t you know, please come back in 300 years for review, we are very interested in discussing this further then!”) Wrex is old, wise and knows exactly what is up. The only way the governing bodies of power were ever going to have a listen, was if he had something they needed. The war with the reapers provided that. And even then, he knew that they wouldn’t listen outright; having Shepard’s voice was a way to get the foot in the door. It makes my heart hurt to think about that honestly; how dehumanising (dekroganising?) it must feel to be the ruler of your people and know that you have to rely on your alien friend to even get someone to listen to you, when what you want to say is an extremely reasonable “hey committing genoicde against my people sucks, stop that now”. Anyway, Wrex was right, this was his one chance to save his people and he took it. Good for him.

#mass effect #urdnot wrex #wrex #my hot take of the day #I usually avoid hot takes because discourse is exhausting #but this one has been revolving in my mind for like a year since I read it #and I read that great post about how dystopian mass effects governments are earlier and my mind has THOUGHTS now

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Alcina’s long lost child au part 2

Alright, part 2! Read the first part here! Let’s get into it!

The fireplace in the bedroom warmed your weary body. Alcina had done an excellent job wrapping your injured leg and then had a maid bring some hot tea for you to drink.

You stared at this fascinating creature. She was easily over 9 feet tall, and yet your very stare had her shifting uncomfortably in her seat. The confident woman from just before was long gone.

Alcina cleared her throat before speaking (Probably to break the unbearable silence). “Are you happy, Y/N? Do you have… any family? I always dreamed of you coming here to find me, but… I… Only wanted the best for you. I hope you know that.” She began.

You looked down at the mug in your hands. You didn’t want to blame her, but your life had been far from easy. Never adopted. Never had a real family… Aging out of the foster system sucked. “Well,” You began carefully. “Um… I’m not gonna sugar coat anything. I grew up as a bit of a loner. I never had a family.” You said, unable to meet Alcina’s gaze.

Alcina felt her heart break. Tears silently streamed down her face. This wasn’t what she wanted for you.

“To be honest, I liked to think that my birth parents just didn’t have the means to care for me. It was… Easier that way. It made the idea of them seem pretty selfless, but-” You gestured to the gilded fixtures and luxurious room. “I can see money and resources are not a problem here.” You ground out. You tried not to sound so bitter, but Alcina had 3 daughters who lived with her. She clearly had the time and love to devote to them. Why not you?

Your words cut Alcina to the core. You really must hate her.

Alcina’s silence kind of agitated you. “So… You seem to love your new children a ton. I’m happy for you all. I should leave.” You said.

You were feeling very angry and didn’t want to say something you’d really regret. You knew coming here was a bad idea from the beginning… What a waste.

You wince as you painfully rise to your feet and prepare to leave.

“NO!” Alcina all but shrieked and stood to her full height.

The amplitude of the sound hurt your ears and you flinch from Alcina’s sudden movements.

Alcina put her face in her hands and sighed in frustration at her reaction. Why was it so hard to talk to you?! She had been waiting for this moment ever since she gave you up.

“It’s not like that at all… I know I did the right thing!” Alcina says, talking more to herself than you.

You lash out.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” You suddenly scream. “You can’t just say you had good intentions for me, send me off to live in fucking shitty situations my entire life, and then want me to immediately forgive you for it!” You vent. You feel tears stinging your eyes. You didn’t realize just how much you had repressed your anger and hurt all these years.

You cover your face with your hands, desperately trying to not cry in front of her.

Alcina can’t stand to see you so upset. She’s got to do something. She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Okay, Y/N. If you hear what I have to say and it doesn’t change the way you feel, I will understand. But, if you find that you’d like to know more… I’ll tell you everything. No matter how painful.” Alcina offers gently.

You huff. Damn it. Now you NEEDED to know what she would say next. “Alright, I’m listening.” You say and sit back down in the chair.

——————————————————————————

A few moments later, Alcina is able to articulate what she needs to say to you. “You were… Most assuredly planned, and wanted, my darling.” Alcina begins.

Wait, she planned on having you?

“I hadn’t adopted your sisters yet at that time… But… They come from unsavory backgrounds as well.” She said tightly, thinking of the pain all of her children have gone through.

You feel a twinge of guilt from being so jealous of the sisters earlier.

Alcina’s face becomes pained. “I had a very… Complicated relationship with your other parent. I constantly craved her approval but I rarely got it.” She said, laughing sadly.

Your ears perk up at this. Another parent??

“What was her name?” You ask, enraptured by Alcina’s story.

“Miranda.” Alcina says. You catch the sadness and… Anger as she says her name.

“Did… Did she do something bad?” You ask in confusion.

Alcina once again nodded, but this time she could not help the growl that escaped her. Why did everything have to hurt so much? It simply wasn’t fair.

“She’s the reason you had to send me away…” You concluded.

“Yes,” Alcina said softly. “For your protection, my love.”

You clenched your jaw. You were starting to hate this ‘Miranda’.

Alcina could sense you were getting upset, so she pivoted and continued on quickly. “Well, one night, your mother proposed that we have a child together-”

You were about to go apeshit. “Did she-?!”

Alcina held up a hand, knowing where you were going. “It was consensual, Y/N.” She said.

This eased your fears, but only a bit.

“Miranda was a brilliant scientist and devised a way for her DNA to fertilize one of my eggs.” Alcina explained.

Your eyes went wide in astonishment, but you didn’t want to interrupt.

“I immediately accepted. I always wanted to feel what it was like to carry a baby within me.” She said, giving you a fond smile.

You felt your heart warm at Alcina’s words. It seems she really did want to have you after all.

“Our relationship got better while we were trying to conceive you. It seemed that she had finally begun to care for me like I did for her… And, well, I became pregnant with you very quickly.” Alcina says with a laugh and a faint blush. “Your mother was absolutely shocked. She couldn’t believe it worked so fast.” She says.

“So… What happened? I mean, how did things go wrong so quickly?” You ask.

Alcina sighed, moving onto more unpleasant memories. “Once Miranda found out I was pregnant… Things changed between us. She insisted on doing all sorts of testing on me. She was completely consumed with her experiments and by the time you were ready to be born, I knew she was going to use you for something awful.” Alcina looked sick as she told you this.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“Your mother… Had walked this earth for a very long time, Y/N. She had a daughter a long time ago who passed away due to a dreadful illness.” Alcina tried to explain as best she could. “Miranda was under the delusion that she could somehow bring her back through science and… She began experimenting on people.” Alcina revealed.

Your jaw dropped. Good Lord, human experimentation?? She sounded like a war criminal. It made your skin crawl to know that she used Alcina like this and planned on using you as well.

“Thankfully, by the end of my pregnancy, Miranda was busy in her lab and went for days without coming to check up on you and me. I went into labor, by myself, and soon after, you were born.” Alcina couldn’t help but smile adoringly at you. “Y/N, you were the most beautiful and precious person in my life… I couldn’t let Miranda take you. I had to get you out of here.” She whispered. As she looked at you she began to sob. She wondered how different both of your lives would have been if you had been able to stay with her.

You felt your heart shatter. Alcina had been through so much. She really did give you up to protect you… You felt hatred toward your other “Parent”. She ruined both of your lives, and countless others.

You decided that this was enough sharing for the day. You were both emotionally exhausted. You climbed off your chair and timidly hobbled over to her before you hugged one of her legs.

Alcina looked to you and gasped at your affection. She softly rubbed her fingers through your hair. She needed to show you how much she loved you. It had been too long. “May I… Hold you, Y/N?” She asked through her heartbreaking cries.

You nodded quickly. This is what you wanted all along…

Alcina reached down and picked you up gently, so as not to hurt your leg, and brought you to her chest.

You sighed in contentment as she held you. This felt right. Her warmth, her smell, her voice… She really was your mom.

“Everything will be alright now that we’re together.” Alcina told you, kissing the side of your face and idly rubbing circles on your back.

Soon, the gentle thumping of Alcina’s heartbeat and the quiet reassurances she whispered in your ear put you right to sleep.

The horror of past transgressions seemingly couldn’t touch you while Alcina held you…

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil imagines

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unconventional-weapons · 2 years

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Lex x Ray - Archived Thread

“Well then I guess it’s long overdue,” Lex grinned, pulling up a stool and resting his elbows on the bar. “Was gettin’ kinda bored and lonely home alone, so this puppy needed a walk.”

“You know what I really like about all of this? That when you say home, you mean my apartment,” he offered gently, pulling already a few bottles to prepare a nice looking cocktail that he knew Lex would appreciate.

“You’re always welcome to drop by whenever you need a walk. My bar is your bar and no harm shall come to you here.”

“I know, and I like it too.”

Like was an understatement, but it didn’t need saying. To Lex, moving in with Ray was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he was now the happiest he could remember ever being.

“My favourite part about it is I get to wake up next to you every day.”

“Well, not every day. Some days I’m already in the kitchen making breakfast,” Ray teased, knowing well enough what Lex meant but feeling a slight need to be playful about it.

He had to take a moment to serve a patron, who came around asking for a drink as if Ray was the bartender or something. Try as he might, he couldn’t exactly get away with it so he asked his puppy to give him a moment. By the time he came back, he had made sure already that everyone in his surrounding area had their needs met.

That should buy him a couple of minutes, at least.

“How are you feeling?” he finally asked, invading Lex’s personal space to steal a kiss from him, completely unbothered by whoever who could see. “And I mean, how are you really feeling? Have these days been better?”

The playful correction had Lex grinning even more.

“Ah, yes. How could I forget that part?” he shot back, practically giddy with the euphoria he’d been riding since he finally got settled in at the apartment, but he had to rein it in just a little while Ray was dealing with other customers, and even just those few moments were a little maddening to his desire for the bartenders full attention.

Lex paused momentarily, making a show of thinking about his answer to Ray’s question regarding his emotional state. Sure, it was probably pretty damn evident to anyone with a working pair of eyes that Lex felt like he’d just won the lottery or something, but articulating his feelings into words was still something he was working on.

“You’re kidding, right? They’ve never been better than right now,” he beamed, looking like the cat that got the cream. “And yeah, I really mean that. Can’t remember a time I’ve been this happy til now.”

Ray was aware of the turbulent past of his boy. He was no stranger to abuse, especially coming from hell, so he knew providing a safe place was necessary for a damaged person to feel at ease. And of course, there was no safer place than the house of an archdemon, but he was concered more about making it emotionally safe too.

“Well that’s good,” he offered with a quiet voice, reaching out to caress Lex’s cheek with his gentle fingers. “Be sure to tell me if there’s something you need, or something you’d like we change. Alright? It’s not you against the world now. It’s us against the world.”

Us.

That word meant more to Lex than anyone would ever know, except maybe Ray, and it made the blond’s heart skip a beat to hear it.

“I will,” he promised, though for the time being, there was nothing at all that Lex would want to change, and Ray had gone above and beyond already to see to it that Lex had everything he could possibly ask for. Still, it was nice to know he had the option that, should he think of anything else, all he had to do was ask and he would recieve.

“Can’t think of anything right now, though. Kinda still gettin’ used to not having to worry about anything anymore, so it might take me a minute.”

Safe. If there was something Ray wanted Lex to feel, it was safe. In more ways than one, sharing a roof with a demon was probably the safest Lex could be, but it’s not like he could just come out of the diabolic closet to give him that extra layer of peace of mind.

As if knowing you’re living with a demon would give ANYONE peace of mind. Oh well, that was a problem for another day, Ray told himself as he leaned on the counter to offer Lex the same warm smile he had been giving him since day one.

“You know the best part about not having to worry anymore?” he asked, poking Lex’s cheek endearingly. “That you get to think about the future. About what you want to do. Maybe go to a painting class? Or start rollerblading- Or salsa classes, ooh! I’ve always wanted to take some.”

Lex couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him at the suggestion, the look in his eyes and smile one of absolute love-drunk headiness, so completely head over heels for Ray that sometimes Lex still had to pinch himself to remind him that this wasn’t just some beautiful dream he was going to wake up from and find himself back in the cold, dark, bleak world he’d spent the last few years stuck in.

“Salsa? Okay, sure, let’s give that a try,” he laughed, leaning in to give the bartender a soft, sweet kiss as he let out a sigh of wholehearted contentment. “Though I do already know how to rollerblade, and I wouldn’t mind getting back into music again. Been kinda a long time since I last got to play anything.”

For better or worse, this was the start of a new chapter in Lex’s life. Ray, as the selfless lover he was, certainly hoped it was for the better. Not that he would shy away from using all of his power for the puppy’s benefit anyway. Nothing and no one would be allowed to barge in and ruin the happiness of their days. They both had seen enough suffering for a life time.

“Wait– you used to do music!?” he beamed in surprise. The smile on his face made it clear that he certainly loved discovering new things about his lover. And this was certainly something they both could bond over from that moment forward. “Did you sing? Play an instrument? Come on, babe! I demand to hear that story.”

Lex grinned bashfully and blushed, squirming a little in his seat, but Ray’s enthusiam was heartwarming and exciting all at once for him.

“Yeah, I sing,” he nodded, teeth setting cutely into his bottom lip, aware that explaining his musical talents meant treading into slightly less happy waters, but music itself was something of a first love for Lex.

“I... took piano lessons when I was a kid. And guitar, and a couple of other things. Music was pretty much the only thing I ever did that my dad approved of. I think that was mostly because it was something he could throw money at that would keep me occupied and out of his way, but it’s one of the few things I had growing up that kept me sane.”

Music. That was certainly something Ray could use. After all, it was an interest they both could share very easily. And it wasn’t too far off for him either, since he had been considering getting into it himself.

“You’re kidding!” he offered in amusement. “I was just thinking about picking up the violin myself. Maybe we could do music together?”

Of course, it was something silly and he knew better than to think getting a hobby would change something in the mess of a life Lex had, but it was a starting point for them both to start building something better. Ray had connections and influence, maybe if Lex picked up music seriously enough he could help get him some places. Even the bar had some nights with live music they could use.

“Just say the word and I’ll schedule music lessons right away-”

“Yeah? I’d like that,” Lex affirmed, the shyness of his smile disipating into something more enthusiastic and confident.

In all honesty, music was one thing Lex had missed terribly, since being on the streets and not having any money to spare to buy even a secondhand guitar had meant that it had been a few years since he’d really gotten to indulge that particular passion.

Especially the piano. He’d missed that and the sense of calm playing it brought the most.

“Would be kinda nice to have someone to jam with. Mostly just played on my own as a kid, ‘cause I wasn’t really allowed to hang out with anyone after school or anythin’, so I’m totally down for doing it together.”

“It’s decided then,” Ray offered, already leaving the bar and walking to the other side as if he could just pick Lex up and go buy instruments. It’s only halfway that he realized there’s a small problem with that plan. “Oh shit, it’s late– I guess it’s gonna have to wait until morning. But it’s decided. First thing tomorrow, you and I are gonna go buy a keyboard and a violin.”

It was that simple for him. Not only did he have the money to spare, he was committed to giving Lex a safe enough environment to develop into his own person, past the pain and the trauma. Ray wasn’t so naïve as to think buying stuff for his lover would do the trick, but he knew this was only a starting point.

“I… hope you know where to buy quality instruments, though. because I have absolutely no clue.”

Lex couldn’t help giggling, finding Ray’s excited enthusiasm endearing and adorable even as he stopped short at the realization that all the stores were presently closed.

“I know a few places we could check out that should have what we want,” Lex affirmed, moving toward the bartender and into his arms as the younger male lavished him with affection at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. “They won’t overcharge like some places do either.”

“In the meantime, though, I think we can figure out a good way to pass the time until the stores open in the morning.” he added with a smirk as Lex pressed a kiss to Ray’s cheek.

Lex came close and of course Ray wrapped his arms around the smaller frame of the boy, making sure to lock him in place and share some of his body heat. For better or worse, he had decided to care for this human and that meant more than just killing whoever came after him.

Because, of course, he would kill to keep Lex safe.

“By all means, pup, tell me what you have in mind,” he offered, curious as to what the other would suggest. It was almost as if he wasn’t working in that very moment, or as if there weren’t clients waiting for him to come to tend to their needs. “What would you have us do to pass the time?”

Lex was well aware that Ray was still technically on the clock, but it always made him grin like a Cheshire cat that the bartender seemed ready to drop everything in an instant for his puppy, even if that meant leaving work early for him. "Well, what I have in mind is something we probably don't want an audience for," Lex purred mischievously, gazing his fingernails over the back of Ray's neck as he gazed at him with a lurid smirk. "So unless you want to give everyone here a show, you might have to hold out til the end of your shift." he teased playfully.

“You are such a nasty little shit, baby,” he thought aloud, not trying to pull away from Lex at all as he got lost in his eyes. There was so much beauty in this little human that sometimes Ray wondered how it was possible to be this helplessly invested in something so fragile…

“You honestly think I’m above dropping my shift and dragging you towards the back room?” he mused in a gentle whisper, running a hand through the puppy’s hair. “Because if you tease me one more time, pup, I’ll do it.”

“Mm, is that a threat or a promise?” Lex hummed dreamily, nuzzling into Ray’s hand as he chased the physical affection just as needily as the emotional side of it.

Lex didn’t care if they were drawing looks from customers still waiting to be served. If anything, it just encouraged him to be even more shameless.

He knew he was being a terrible tease, but that was half the fun; Lex delighting in the little games they played and the way he could get a rise out of Ray with even just a look most of the time, and especially when Ray was supposed to be working.

“Because I think your puppy is in a naughty mood and in need of putting in his place.”

“You are– a very bad puppy, Lex,” Ray teased, although his words were not sincere in the slightest. Ray was the first one to drop everything and tend to his boy’s needs whenever, after all. The way he saw it, work would never be as important as his loved ones.

And he loved Lex a lot.

“Tell you what– That room in the back where we keep the wine? Meet me there in 10 minutes. I can figure something out to cut my shift short. Deal?”

Lex pretended to mull things over for a moment before his teeth set into his bottom lip cutely in a smirk.

“Deal,” he echoed, though he was still a little reluctant to let go of Ray for even a few moments while the bartender came up with whatever excuse he needed to ditch out on his shift and give all of his attention entirely to Lex.

“Promise you’ll only be 10 minutes? I don’t think I’m patient enough to wait any longer than that,” he mused, making a show of pouting playfully and giving Ray his best puppy eyes before he would dare pull away and make his way to the back room to wait for him.

Of course Ray could figure something out to get off the hook. All he had to do was use a bit of his supernatural charm and the manager didn’t seem to have a problem with him disappearing for a while… Or for several hours either. That’s how he got away with all the bullshit he pulled at all times.

It wasn’t too long a wait before Ray made his way back to the cellar, closing the door behind him with a wicked smile as he tried to find Lex within the dimly lit room.

“Don’t tell me you’re hiding now, babe-” he teased, already undoing the first button of his tie while his blue eyes roamed the room. “Ah, there you are! Looking like a fine snack as always…”

“Who’s hiding?”

Lex hopped down from the stack of crates he’d been sitting on while waiting patiently for Ray, though that patience was wearing thin now that they were alone together as the younger male approached with a teasing smirk firmly set on his face.

“Oh, I’m a snack, am I?” he purred luridly, hands sliding up around Ray’s shoulders and lacing behind his neck before leaning in closer, a wicked glint in his pretty blue eyes.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were hungry for a taste.”

The sight of Lex there, in the poorly lit room, brought a smile to Ray’s face. How someone could manage to be so cute and so enticing at the same time was beyond him, but he was not the kind to second guess his wishes. He wanted Lex, Lex wanted him back, and there was nothing in the world that could ruin this moment of happiness.

“Hungry for a taste?” Ray teased in response, pulling Lex that much closer, so their bodies were completely pressed against one another. “I’m starving- I can’t live if I don’t feast on my puppy.”

It wasn’t a lie, not really. As an incubus, he did need this in order to keep his energy levels high, and he needed those levels high in order to mantain his body functions… Not that he was gonna bother Lex with such little details, so instead he cornered Lex against the wall, still kissing him.

“You do tell me– if you wish for me to feast on you right here- or if you want me to take you home.”

A shiver ran through Lex as his back hit the wall, pinned between it and Ray pressing against him deliciously as the younger male hummed heatedly into the kiss, giving away just how needy he was feeling for the bartender right at that moment.

“I don’t think I could wait long enough for you to take me home,” he confessed teasingly, raking his fingernails over the back of Ray’s neck, the gesture already a little greedy and demanding with how much he wanted him.

“Besides, there’s nothing saying we can’t do both, is there? Especially when I know how insatiable you can get sometimes.”

Ray smiled in response, wickedly and teasingly at the same time. Lex had become so confident, so free and passionate with him that there was little else he could do but fall for his little games. Sex demon or not, the feelings he harbored for the smaller man were so real and so demanding that the idea of waiting a second longer was discarded before it even gained traction.

“You’re a terrible influence,” he murmured, pressing all of his body against the boy, grinding even, before he claimed his lips in a deep, loving and passionate kiss. “You come into my bar, seduce me over the counter, drag me to the back room… and you have the audacity to give me those looks still… What are you, an incubus?”

“Can you blame me?” Lex purred luridly, so completely entranced by his lover and the effect he seemed to have on him. “How can I not when you’re so... damned... hot?”

There was just something about Ray that made Lex want to give him everything. Even that parts of him that Lex never gave to anyone else, because not only was he in love and knew that that love was returned unconditionally, but he also had the sense of safety and security he needed to be his true, completely unrestrained self without having to worry that any display of vulnerability might be taken advantage of and used against him.

“Can’t say I’m an incubus, but you certainly have the uncanny ability of makin’ me wanna act up. Are you sure you’re not one?” he teased, ghosting his lips over Ray’s again.

#lex:thread #lex:ray:001

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neonbitemarks · 2 years

Text

@endlessdrifter

Lex x Ray - Thread continued from mythandmonsters

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite puppy, gracing poor old me with his presence? Hello, come close, sit, let’s gossip. It’s been a while since you gave me a visit at work.”

“Well then I guess it’s long overdue,” Lex grinned, pulling up a stool and resting his elbows on the bar. “Was gettin’ kinda bored and lonely home alone, so this puppy needed a walk.”

“You’re always welcome to drop by whenever you need a walk. My bar is your bar and no harm shall come to you here.”

“I know, and I like it too.”

Like was an understatement, but it didn’t need saying. To Lex, moving in with Ray was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he was now the happiest he could remember ever being.

“My favourite part about it is I get to wake up next to you every day.”

“Well, not every day. Some days I’m already in the kitchen making breakfast,” Ray teased, knowing well enough what Lex meant but feeling a slight need to be playful about it.

That should buy him a couple of minutes, at least.

The playful correction had Lex grinning even more.

Us.

That word meant more to Lex than anyone would ever know, except maybe Ray, and it made the blond’s heart skip a beat to hear it.

“Can’t think of anything right now, though. Kinda still gettin’ used to not having to worry about anything anymore, so it might take me a minute.”

Lex grinned bashfully and blushed, squirming a little in his seat, but Ray’s enthusiam was heartwarming and exciting all at once for him.

“You’re kidding!” he offered in amusement. “I was just thinking about picking up the violin myself. Maybe we could do music together?”

“Just say the word and I’ll schedule music lessons right away-”

“Yeah? I’d like that,” Lex affirmed, the shyness of his smile disipating into something more enthusiastic and confident.

Especially the piano. He’d missed that and the sense of calm playing it brought the most.

“I… hope you know where to buy quality instruments, though. because I have absolutely no clue.”

Lex couldn’t help giggling, finding Ray’s excited enthusiasm endearing and adorable even as he stopped short at the realization that all the stores were presently closed.

“In the meantime, though, I think we can figure out a good way to pass the time until the stores open in the morning.” he added with a smirk as Lex pressed a kiss to Ray’s cheek.

Because, of course, he would kill to keep Lex safe.

“Mm, is that a threat or a promise?” Lex hummed dreamily, nuzzling into Ray’s hand as he chased the physical affection just as needily as the emotional side of it.

Lex didn’t care if they were drawing looks from customers still waiting to be served. If anything, it just encouraged him to be even more shameless.

“Because I think your puppy is in a naughty mood and in need of putting in his place.”

And he loved Lex a lot.

“Tell you what– That room in the back where we keep the wine? Meet me there in 10 minutes. I can figure something out to cut my shift short. Deal?”

Lex pretended to mull things over for a moment before his teeth set into his bottom lip cutely in a smirk.

It wasn’t too long a wait before Ray made his way back to the cellar, closing the door behind him with a wicked smile as he tried to find Lex within the dimly lit room.

“Who’s hiding?”

“Oh, I’m a snack, am I?” he purred luridly, hands sliding up around Ray’s shoulders and lacing behind his neck before leaning in closer, a wicked glint in his pretty blue eyes.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were hungry for a taste.”

#lex:thread #lex:ray:001

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kthynes · 2 years

Note

Are you still accepting smut prompts for CE characters? If so, I would like to order one large Andy Barber (was thinking maybe Senator or Mob Boss Barber but dealers' choice of course) and 29. “All of my thoughts about you are improper.”

candidate

warnings: Senator!Andy. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

authors note: whoopsies this turned into a pinning fluff fest. Lol thanks for the prompt Merc 💜

This has not been beta’d - any mistakes are my own

(I do not own this image - credit goes to the rightful owner)

What does Andy Barber think of you? That was the proverbial question in which he responds, facetiously—“All of my thoughts about you are improper.”

He whispers those proclamations along the shell of your ear, his large sizable hands gathering around your hips, safeguarding them there as you’re backed against a wall table, a prisoner of newfound misfortunes.

The congressional meeting room is vacant, not a single soul rivets the hard staccato in your chest. His modus confession takes you by the upheaps, colouring his wild cornflower eyes an inky midnight blue. Your brows beetle together, disbelievingly glossy eyed by how quickly the situation spiralled out for comfort.

“Full of debauched dirty need and downright salaciousness.” He further articulates, larking on your quiet estrus descent as a conning man who should be preparing to solicit a crowd of young voters and fellow diplomats. But instead he pines over you, his aide who had been tiring out his campaign, day in and day out.

Should you have known?

He scoffs. “I’ve been fucked by the mere thought of you.” You should’ve.

“Senator Barber.” You quickly apprehend him and he hates to hear it. Not from his best girl.

“You consume me.” He painfully asserts, nose to nose, cantering his closeness that rids your ability to breathe. “My every feeling is controlled by the very look on your face. I can’t be.”

“Andy.” You tread softly.

“I’d do almost everything in my power to have you as mine.” Warring through internal conflict, Andy cradles your face in his hands and gives you a long enigmatic look, a thumb gently drawing along your bottom lip as if it were memory. “Let me be your happiness, Y/N.”

This is where you said something. Anything. But the words didn’t come easy, asinine to the truth at hand.

“I—“

“Senator Barber. The panels are all set.” A beautiful brown skinned woman galivants in, armoured with a clipboard and matching headset, she beams. “We’re ready whenever you are.”

“Great, I'll be there in a bit.” Andy responds, arms back to his side and eyes wearily glued on you. The organizer tuts a happy ‘OK’ and flits down the hall to anchor a room full of hopeful press.

“So what do you say?” He infers.

You sigh, thinly pressing your lips together with morose indication. Andy does nothing but watch you tentatively reach for the lapels of his dark blue suit jacket, tugging and adjusting them in place. Zeroing in on his preluding confession as an undermining statement.

“You have an election to win.” You finally enlist, barely looking up at the man who you’ve always looked up to and deeply admired. “That’s all that should matter.”

“But I need you.”

“You have me. Right by your side, every step of the way.” You pledge to a single caucus. “Now go on, show this country what you’re capable of.”

#andy barber x y/n #chris evans #chris evans x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #andy Barber #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #Andy Barber x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

Note

Yay rqs are open! My hc request is for the Diasomnia boys’ reaction when feMc shows up to their first date in a rlly nice dress, makeup, and heels. Like it’s their first time seeing her wearing a skirt or a specisl outfit in general? I hope you can do that 🎀

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Malleus maintains a relatively reserved look, but there are a few subtle cues that clue you in on how pleased he is. His widened eyes, the slight smile on his lips, how his eyelids fold over...

Seeing you all dressed up puts him in a really good mood, but he doesn’t express it in over-the-top ways--as a prince, he has to maintain a certain sense of decorum, especially in public. Just know that he’s internally squealing and probably will continue raving about it later to Lilia and co.

He gives you a bow, as though addressing fellow noble, once you stand before him. “Attire as fine as this deserves the royal treatment,” he jokes dryly, taking the back of your hand and planting a quick kiss upon it.

Malleus will want to remember this moment forever: your first date, and his first time seeing you in a special outfit, so he’ll fumble with the camera on his phone to try and take a picture with you. He insists that the photo doesn’t need any filters or other editing once it is taken--he thinks you, and by extension, the picture, looks perfect as is.

Malleus is always courteous, but he’s extra courteous to you since you’ve taken such painstaking efforts to look nice for the date. He volunteers his jacket to keep dust and debris off your outfit, and asks every so often if you’d like to stop and give your feet a rest from the heels.

He assists you with light touch-ups throughout the day, like adjusting stray strands of hair that fall across your face, or wiping up a little lip makeup that smears when you bite into your food. Malleus has the most tender of smiles as he does so, savoring those small, casual moments of intimacy.

Lilia’s eyes light up when he sees you! He’s so excited to see you up close that he just skips right over. Taking your hands in his, he spins you around adoringly while gushing about how adorable you are~

He has an appreciation for cute things, so he’ll want to see your look from different angles! Lilia releases your hands and requests for you to curtsey and twirl so your hair bounces, and your skirt feathers out like flower petals. He claps adoringly all the while, as though cheering you on at a sporting event.

As much as Lilia dotes on you, he also takes every chance he can get to mess with you! Of course, he loves that you put all this effort into your appearance for him, but he wants to see how cute you look after a busy date with him, too!

He’ll tug you along at a frantic pace, sweeping wind into your hair, or challenge you to a race to see who can make it to a designated location first. If you can’t run in heels, no problem! Lilia will sweep you up into his arms and run as fast as he can with you!

Lilia will also boop your nose or nuzzle his face against yours, which smudges your makeup a bit. Oh, and don’t forget the head pats! He’ll mess your hair up really well with those!

Fussing over yourself draws only a chuckle from Lilia. “There is no need to fret, my dear. Even this imperfect look of yours has its own kind of charm. No matter how neat or disheveled your appearance, my feelings for you will remain forever unchanged.”

Silver blinks several times and rubs at his eyes. He thinks, for a moment, that he must be dreaming—so he needs to get rid of whatever drowsiness remains in him!

“Ah... I thought you looked too ethereal to be real for a second there... But I guess it’s not a dream after all. You’re not a dream,” he mutters, smiling softly at you. “Good. I didn’t want to wake up from it if it was.”

He hears it is painful to walk in heels (it’s an experience like walking on a bed of swords, according to his sources), so Silver offers you the crook of his arm to hold onto. It helps anchor you, and no matter how skilled (or unskilled) you may be with walking in heels, just knowing that Silver supports you fills your heart with warmth.

He can’t help but sneak shy peeks at your made up face and cute outfit throughout the date! Silver’s not great at fully articulating his thoughts—the most he can say is a short compliment like “you look nice”, or “that’s pretty”—but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate them!

Silver’s very patient! If you need to go to the restroom to fix your appearance, he’s fine with waiting for however long it may take to do so (though he does doze off a bit if you take a while in there).

His animal friends come to say hello during your date. A few of the woodland critters bring small flowers, which Silver weaves into your hair, adding to your special look for the day.

Sebek looks completely aghast when he sees you in all your finery. In fact, he’s so shocked that his face goes bright pink, which is a nice contrast to the mint green of his hair.

He fights the blush taking over his face, coughs into his hand, and gives you a lecture about how impractical your manner of dress is. How are you meant to maneuver with those toothpick thin sticks on your shoes? And that flowy fabric offers little to no protection from the elements!

“Love is war!! And you are ill-equipped for that battle field!” Sebek declares with a huff, looking quite proud of himself. “Given this docile, flowery appearance you have adopted... It would be better suited for an act of espionage in enemy territory than as a suit of armor for combat!”

You look confused, so he proceeds to explain that he studied (VERY) old (war) strategy books from the Diasomnia library (recommended by Lilia) to prepare for this momentous day—aren’t you proud of him for being so diligent? Sebek looks to you with sparkling eyes, like a puppy eager for praise!

His expression falters when you let him in on the secret: you didn’t dress up to march off to battle, you dressed up to surprise him! Sebek’s blush deepens as he realizes his mistake and frantically apologizes for it.

He buries his head in his hands in shame, refusing to gaze upon you again (as self-inflicted punishment for his foolishness). After some coaxing from your end, Sebek slowly peeks through the cracks between his fingers and mumbles, “... Y-You... You look nice, human.” And yup, his face is now a bright red instead of pink.

#twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Lilia Vanrouge #Lilia Vanrouge x Reader #Silver #Silver x Reader #Sebek Zigvolt #Sebek Zigvolt x Reader #curiouser and curiouser #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland requests #Reader #self insert #Diasomnia

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mrsmaybank · 3 years

Text

Daydreams - Professor!Reid x Student!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, HEAVY PETTING, SPANKING, FINGERING, DEGRADATION, UNPROTECTED SEX, AGE GAP, DADDY KINK

A/N: Holllaay shit. I am absolutely in love with Professor Reid and hate my father, so I couldn’t help myself. This is my first one-shot smut so I hope it doesn’t suck too badly. Enjoy my perversion EL O EL. Anyway, let me know if ya like it!

Her little bambi eyes lit up in a way I knew I’d never be able to stop thinking about. The parting of her pouty lips made me want to press a big wet kiss on her mouth. But I couldn’t--She was a student. My student. My best student. Her elbows propped her up on the desk, curving her body so that my mind couldn’t go anywhere but daydreams of her in that same position grabbing onto bed sheets and mewling in submission.

Our relationship didn’t extend past that, I was her teacher and she was my daydream. My latest vice had become mixing memories with self-tortourus fantasies. Fantasies where she sat naked on my lap, whimpering at my touch. I would treat her like she was made of glass and gold, light and then harsh, hot and then cold, loving and only then fucking.

Today was the last day of the semester, she’d passed with flying colors and I had expected no less. I congratulated the class, but couldn’t help but say a couple extra words.

“Special congratulations to the top scorer on the final. Miss, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Her eyes widened in excitement and then lowered in a façade of shyness, “Thank you sir.”

“You went above and beyond this semester.” Her eyes met mine for the longest they ever had,

“I’m proud of you.” Something about the way her shy smile had turned into a coquettish grin made me swallow hard, but it wasn’t just that look. She knew what she was doing. She always did.

“Class dismissed! Drink responsibly!” I said as the class packed up their things, “And if you’re underage, don’t drink at all!” I sat back down, tired but relieved. However when I saw that little thing prancing to my desk, I had all the energy in the world.

“Dr. Reid?” she asked. She batted her eyelashes and played with the necklace that adorned her chest.

“Yes, Y/n?”

“I, uh, thank you. Everybody said freshman year was gonna be tough,” I smiled at her breathy words, she spoke so eloquently. Like an articulate angel. She was an absolute angel.

“And it was” She laughed, “But your class really made it better. You’re a wonderful professor. I’ve learned so much.”

Oh, little girl. There’s so much more I could teach you.

“Thank you. I have a summertime internship opportunity if you’re interested. There’s limited places, and I think you’d be absolutely perfect.” The outspoken girls brief silence confused me, as she shifted in what couldn’t be described as anything but anticipation, “Professor, are you really proud of me?” She spit out.

I was stunned, “Why wouldn’t I be? You're great.”

“I’m a tease, sir. That’s not something I expected a man like you to be proud of.”

I closed my eyes and smiled to open them back up again. This girl was trouble, no question. But this, this was the kind of trouble that was just begging to be punished.

“You think you’re a tease?”

She nodded. And I indulged. I shouldn’t have and I knew it. But she was a sweet peach, and I was just tall enough to rip her from her stem and consume her like it was the last fruit on earth. “Sweet girl.” I noticed her thighs squeezing together and the blown out black of her pupils. She wanted this just as bad as I did. “C’mere.” I turned my seat away from the desk.

Like I knew she would, she obeyed and she sat on my lap. Her head immediately fell into my chest and she looked up at me. “You love to learn don’t you?” I asked her. She nodded, and I wanted nothing more than to take her right then. But I’d waited for this moment too long to do it in such haste. “I love to teach.”

I kissed her neck like the sweet skin was on fire, light and quick but tender and wet. Her breath rose and fell harder each second my calloused hand got closer to the hem of her skirt, a skirt that was a couple inches too short for her own good. Everything about her was like a pure poison, a tease for no reason. She knew she could’ve had me whenever she wanted, and yet like the coy and clever girl she was, waited. She waited knowing the longer she did, the more my infatuation with her would grow, and all the better the loving would be.

My hands' slow descent up her skirt ended at the lace trim of her panties, where I traced the band west and east, watching her breath hitch as every time I trailed back slightly closer to her core. When I finally reached her center, dipping my fingers into her panties I was met with exactly what was expected. Soaking wetness and a whine. I couldn’t stop the chuckle that left me if I tried. I adjusted her so she sat perfectly, arms on my shoulders and legs spread, back to the wall and face to me.

“Hey, sweet girl.” She rocked herself on my fingers, begging for them to just make their way inside.

“Dr. Reid, ple-”

I shoved two fingers inside of her more forcefully then I intended to, although the girl didn’t complain. She screamed. How responsive.

I continued to stroke her insides, dipping my other hand into her skirt so I could use it to rub circles on her crescent. She was a star on the stage of my lap, and my gaze never left the sight of her gorgeous face contorting in desperation as adorable whimpers fell every time my fingers curled.

“Is it everything you imagined?” She asked. I was slightly taken a back, “F-fuck. Is it Daddy?” I slipped another finger in to shut her up but it didn’t work. “You’ve always wanted to, right? Hold me down and fuck me till I cry.” My fingers sped up and her walls clenched around me, clasping and gripping my fingers, and cries left her pouty little mouth. She had just come all over my fingers and was taunting me with my desperation. What the fuck.

“Is that what you want?”

“Hmm,” she giggled, “Please.”

I shoved her off me to bend her over the wood of my desk.

I flipped her skirt up for a better look at the adorable little behind my sweet girl had.

“Adorable. So adorable.” I slapped it hard, wanting nothing more than to see the red it would leave in its wake.

A guttural moan left her mouth, “Shit!”

“Aw, what’s up little girl? Is it not what you imagined? You’ve always wanted it, hm?” I spanked her again, harder. She whimpered slightly, clearly holding back whatever sounds the action were provoking. “Bent over my desk and being hit?” I hit her again, and she screamed this time. “Or did you think I’d just fuck you right away? “ The room echoed with two sounds, my hand slapping the skin of her ass, and the whine from her that always followed, “Hm? I didn’t hear you sweet pea.” I hit her twice then, as she finally submitted, “Daddy, please!”

“What’d you want babe?”

“Please, fuck me.”

I dragged the tiny piece of cotton that had now been soaked off her, preparing to gag her with them.

“You being loud is not gonna cost me my career.”

“Wait!” I stopped in my tracks,

“I’m on the pill. Just so you know.”

I smiled, “Okay.” Shoving the panties in her cute little mouth as she nodded eagerly in understanding.

I unzipped my pants, finally freeing myself from the tightness that had me painfully strained.

I gently made my way so my tip was at her entrance, as she wiggled into me,

“Desperate little slut.” She moaned against her own fabric.

I grabbed her by the waist to shove her into me, my cock hitting the back of her walls as she cried, I couldn’t fathom the pleasure that every nerve in my body was feeling. “You’re so tight. So wet..” I pounded into her with all the strength I had in the world. Each thrust eliciting a muffled moan or whimper or sob that just urged me to go in again harder. I grabbed and pushed her propped elbows down, so I had a hand on the back of her neck, holding her down exactly like she said I wanted to. She was right. I did. “This is what we both wanted, huh?”

“Little girl” I started, my thrusts into her beginning to get sloppier as her cries got louder, my voice was coarse, “Pretty little girl. You like this?” Between messy sobs of pleasure, she got out a pathetic little mewl of “Yes.” I snaked a hand around to pull her up and look her in the eyes and press a sweet kiss to her forehead before ripping the panties from her mouth and roughly pressing her back down on the desk. “I wanna hear you.” I fucked her with a passion I hadn’t ever in my life.

Her walls gripped me tighter then I thought was possible, and I knew the end was near. “Daddy.” She panted, ‘G’nna c-cum.” I ignored it “Aw. Pretty girl, you can wait for Daddy, can’t you?”

“No!” she wined, “Please, just let me-Fuck! Daddy,” she sobbed, “Please.” My thrusts were getting rougher, messier, better. “Come.” I ordered. Her walls began to convulse and flutter, physically begging for me to join her. I got faster, fucking her as she came, lost in her pretty moans and gripping pussy. She bounced with my thrusts, sobbing as she said, “Cum, daddy, please.” The rapid pace stopped as those words left her mouth, I came into her as deep as possible, feeling her twitch as my sticky release coated her. Pulling out, I flipped her around to kiss her sweetly. She giggled into the kiss and looked at me in a way I’d remember forever.

“Thank you, professor.”

“Yeah little girl, anytime.” I began to help her clean up.

She lit up, “You mean that?”

I nodded and helped her sit up, “Oh, yeah I do.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #Spencerreid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer #Criminal Minds Reid #reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid and reader #spencer reid x you #spencerreid x reader smut #reid x y/n #reid smut #spencer reid x fanfiction #professor reid #professor reid x reader

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kassandras-one-braincell · 3 years

Text

Abby Anderson x GN!Reader - Please Don’t Leave Me

Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt: Please Don’t Leave Me (I’m creative with my titles)

Can be found on AO3 here.

Setting: before Abby leaves to go golfing. Abby and the reader are in an established relationship.

Warning: angst angst angst, excessive usage of the f-bomb and discussions of murder.

(Y/N) replacer safe.

Word count: 1846

Fuck, she’s really doing this.

Every day since Isaac had granted the Salt Lake Crew leave to hunt down Joel Miller, you tried to bargain with Abby, tried to make her see some sense. That killing him won’t take away any of the pain she feels. The grief. The gaping hole in her heart. But she’d always brush you off, distancing herself from you, suppressing her emotions with bicep curls and crunches as per habit.

Each passing hour, a nail was hammered into the coffin of the woman you love. And this morning is the final nail.

The quaint apartment you call home is filled with a cacophony of rustling and pleas as Abby shovels supplies into her backpack, preparing for her hunt. In her mind, Joel’s death warrant is signed, the execution nigh. And God are you desperate, trying to drill some semblance of reality into her stubborn mind one last time before she embarks on a journey she’ll only regret.

“Abby, please just listen to me for one minute—”

“I need to do this.” She heads to your small shared closet, refusing to look at you from your position by the bed. You frantically try to intercept her path, knowing full well she’s much, much stronger and can reposition you with ease. But it’s worth a try.

“This isn’t going to solve anything,” you implore, clutching the wood.

“Move, (Y/N).”

“Abby, this isn’t going to bring him back. You know that.”

“Move.” Her tone is exasperated, utterly focused on packing her shit and promptly leaving. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

“That girl in the hospital. The immune one. She must have been like a daughter to him for Joel to kill a group of innocent people for her,” you plead, feet firmly planted on the floor. Searching for her eyes, those blue irises alight with a maelstrom of hateful determination. They meet yours. “Killing him will just put her through all of this.”

Abby reaches for the closet door and slowly pulls it open, acknowledging your reluctance to move, deciding to disregard it. The wood begins to dig into your back and you’re forced to step aside. “This isn’t going to end, Abby. You fucking know this.” As she folds some spare clothes and places them in her backpack, you fall gracelessly to the bed, needing to sit down. Bile climbs up your oesophagus. Shit, where was her sense of fucking empathy?

“Abby…” Once again, she doesn’t so much as spare you a glance, folding the garments in robotic fashion. “Abby, you said she was a kid. A kid.”

The final shirt is stuffed haphazardly into the bag. She grits her teeth and turns to you. “He killed dozens of Fireflies, (Y/N). Dozens. And that’s all we fucking know of. There could be hundreds of others because he’s a stone cold killer.” Her face flushes with anger, no remnants of the woman you know left behind. “No one person is worth that many fucking lives.”

You let out a breathy laugh in sheer disbelief. “But it’s not about them, is it? Not to you.” The words escaped you in a hiss, one that didn’t go unnoticed. “Never fuckin’ has been.”

Abby rolls her eyes and grabs her maps from the coffee table, iron fist crumpling the papers beyond legibility. “There could have been a cure. A fucking cure to all this.”

On the surface, her words are rational. One life for a cure that would save millions was a worthy sacrifice, that you would be foolish to deny. But the odds of developing this cure were slim, and the girl would have likely died in vain. You knew this. Abby knew this. Jerry knew this.

With a shaky breath, you cradle your arms, never before having felt the urge to cage yourself around Abby. Fingers firmly gripping at your elbows, you let the cards fold. Unadulterated truth.

“You’re in denial, Abigail.”

A tut. “Don’t you fucking ‘Abigail’ me.” Her previous efforts to maintain a steady tone have been vanquished, anger seeping into each progressing word.

She’s gone.

And it’s this precise revelation that fills your eyes with oceans. Throat closing up, nose burning with the urge to spill over, you attempt – attempt – to articulate yourself, to no avail. Seconds later, rivulets trickle from your eyes to your cheeks, and you find yourself sniffling like some stupid kid… No, not a kid. A grieving adult, bereaved by the loss of a lover. Because the other figure in the room is but a husk of the radiant soul you fell for.

“All…” You pause to inhale, deeply: a futile effort to regulate your breathing, to lay rest to the turmoil suffocating your ability to fucking think. “All that’s going to happen is… You’re going to have to—” Hiccupping, you close your eyes, praying no more tears would fall. “To live with the guilt of orphaning a kid.”

Sentence finally out, you surrender to your sorrows, allowing them to wrack your chest with sobs and heaves until it gets too much, salt freely spilling from the floodgates. You can’t…you won’t bring yourself to look at Abby – the machine in her place, one programmed to kill and kill alone.

It’s wholly terrifying.

Distress flickers in her eyes, her frown slackening for a fraction of a second at the sound of your despair. “No one is forcing you to come,” she puts plainly, as if that has anything to do with the issue at hand.

“You know this – isn’t about that. Fuck, even Owen knows this…this is a bad idea.” Too dejected to cry. Too dejected to battle the hitched breaths you take trying to force out the words.

Words that fall upon deaf ears. “That’s not what Owen told me.” She slots a Swiss army knife into her cargo pants’ pocket, headed with a canteen in hand towards the kitchenette. “He was there, (Y/N). He agreed that Joel needs to die.”

“Because he’s fucking scared of you!” We all are, nearly breaks free from your lips, but that’s not what Abby needs to hear right now. Nothing that will push her away. Further away. The reigns you have on your lover are fraying, leaving you grasping at nought but strings. Frenzied, you attempt a softer, less concrete approach. “Baby, it isn’t normal to be so…hellbent on revenge like this.”

Silence. The delicate trickle of water sounds from the faucet as Abby fills her canteen. Then, a sigh, one of frustration as opposed to defeat. “If you think calling me ‘baby’ is going to erase four motherfucking years of grief, you are sorely mistaken. You’re smarter than that.”

Patience thinning, you stand up, wading through strewn supplies across the apartment floor towards the kitchenette. “Four years and you still haven’t given yourself time to mourn properly,” you reason, deliberately obstructing her path out of the kitchen with your body again. “Maybe if you had you’d see some fucking sense.”

God, that was a mistake. Shit, shit, shit shit shit the last thing you want to do is piss her off, not with her mind in such a volatile state, devoid of all logic.

“I appreciate you’ve lived a fucking sheltered life since the outbreak,” she seethed. What?

“That’s not true—”

“And you have no fucking idea what it’s like to have someone ripped away from you like that.” Volume rising, words a mantra fuelled by detest. “And you know, maybe, just fucking maybe, this’ll be my one chance to put an end to this shit!” The fist not clutching her backpack clenches. And for the first time ever while alone in her company, you flinch.

“He fucking deserves this, (Y/N)! If I can show him a fraction of the pain he caused me—”

“Abby, you’re scaring me,” you whimper, closing in on yourself. Genuinely afraid she’d raise her hand towards you.

Had you a mirror, you’d know truly how perturbed you look in this very moment. Streamlines drying on your cheeks, eyes reddening and puffy from crying, wide with fear like a doe face-to-face with a moving car. Body subconsciously making itself smaller, reducing its surface area, reducing the likelihood for any incoming swings to hit.

She lowers her guard, colour returning to her knuckles as she unravelled her fist. Knitted brows returning to their natural place above her eyes, mouth parted as the horror of her behaviour settles in.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” Even her previously stern voice cracks at this.

It takes tremendous willpower to not fall back as she takes a tentative step towards you.

Drying your eyes with your sleeves – her sleeves…you forgot you’re wearing her old sweater, the notion sour on your tongue – you break your mutual gaze. “You’re not you right now,” you whisper, not trusting your larynx to produce anything above a mouse’s squeak. “This isn’t the Abby I know.”

For the first time this morning, a sentiment other than bloodlust registers in her face. Hurt.

Either unable or unwilling to respond, Abby recommences her packing in solemn silence.

Shit, you have three, perchance five minutes at best to dissuade your girlfriend from leaving and doing something that will haunt her for all eternity. Yet all you can do is brace yourself against the wall and allow a second tsunami of tears to wash over you, pangs of anguish striking your heart. “Abby—”

“I’m going, (Y/N).” Firm, with a shred less conviction, but firm enough.

A violent sob tears through you as you beg, beg, the vessel of the woman you adore, “Please don’t leave me.”

For a fleeting moment, your heart stops as she hesitates in her tracks. A flicker of hope seizes your mind, that perhaps she has reconsidered, that finally some logic has entered her train of thought.

It all crashes down when she reaches for the spare rifle ammunition by the front door.

“Fuck, Abby—”

“I’ll be gone a month at most.”

Hail-Mary.

Please.

Chest shuddering with each sob that wracks through you, you utter through violently trembling lips and hiccups, “You’re so – fucking blinded – by your hatred – right now – that you can’t – fuck, see – this will – kill you—”

The gravity of the situation threatens to make your knees buckle.

Abby plucks her jacket from the coat hanger and wades over to your crippled stance by the kitchen. A hand brushes your salt-slicked cheek as a lock of hair is swept out of your line of sight. “I love you,” she whispers in pained honesty.

“Abby…” You try to take her hand, to ground her, to remind her of the life she’s leaving behind on her relentless pursuit of this warped sense of justice.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).” She squeezes your palm and lets go, zipping up her pack as the front door to the apartment creaks open and slams shut.

Death is a word that isn’t used lightly, especially not after an epidemic takes the world by storm. But part of your spirit certainly died the moment that door closed behind her.

(I’ll leave it up to you whether she has a change of heart or leaves and scores a few hits above par.)

#abby anderson x reader #im sorry :(#abby tlou #angst #bad things happen bingo

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mcyt-imagines · 3 years

Note

hello! i am here to request a tommyinnit x reader! where the reader is a smaller streamer who accidentally befriends tommy while having no idea who he is??? they only find out when they see him streaming one day and lose their fucking marbles over how many people are watching him, and proceed to blow up his phone like??? hello what the fuck???? also, they/them pronouns please!

I love this request, mainly because I can totally see Tommy doing this to someone. Befriending them and just accidentally forgetting about his online popularity just to laugh as they freak out over it. I’ve used they/them pronouns as per requested as well, hope you enjoy! :D

Hidden In Plain Sight

You were worried you weren’t going to actually make any friends in your new classes, moving to a whole new school partway through the year wasn’t exactly common practice. So, you had braced yourself for the worst, mentally prepared to eat your lunch alone in the bathrooms even if it was gross, it was better than being eyeballed by your new peers. Approaching the common area with your food now in hand, you felt your stomach start to sink deeper and deeper, yet you kept up your pace determined to not look as downtrodden as you felt.

“Hey, new girl!” You turned quickly, giving yourself a bad case of whiplash that the boy who had called your name definitely noticed. “Uh, yeah?” You raised a singular eyebrow at him, the empty seats around him beckoning you closer. “Nice twitch patch. You stream?” He asked, gesturing to the small purple and white patch you had badly sewn onto your backpack.

You stood dumbly ahead of him, your food held tightly in your hands. “Uh, yeah. I do, I only started a few months ago though.” You grow sheepish wondering if admitting to that could just lead to you getting bullied quicker. The boy’s face suddenly lights up, “Me too! I’ve been streaming for a few years now though.” He boasts a little, obviously taking pride in his hobby. You nod along, “Cool.” A few moments of silence pass, “Are you gonna sit or what?”

The smile that graces your face leaves Tommy a little stunned, “Oh! Thanks.” You quickly sit, shoulders relaxing almost instantly. “I-It’s nothing, I’m Tommy by the way.” He holds out his hand, you warmly shake it giving him your own name with a soft blush. Partly from the embarrassment of your pointlessly spiralling thoughts and partly from how cute this boy next to you is. Tommy happily carries the conversation, cheeks a soft pink as you watch him with intrigue and interest drinking in his words with an attentiveness he wasn’t used to. Tommy listens eagerly when he asks you about your twitch channel, you shyly tell him a little about it.

You give him your channel name and he follows you, you follow back instantly Tommy speaking through the exchange partly to distract you from his profile. It works and you close the app without a second glance, happily listening to the rest of Tommy’s story without a care in the world. Tommy feels relief rush through him, he didn’t want to overwhelm you and he knew that his popularity was likely to have an impact on your friendship. He didn’t want that. He wanted someone to want to get to know him because they found him interesting not because of his following and the ‘clout’ they may receive from being his friend. You didn’t seem like the type to do that but he knew better than to assume, he’d learnt that lesson a few too many times before.

“You normally sit alone?” You breach the subject with little tact, knowing that surely, he’s a popular guy. He’s loud, extroverted and funny, there’s no way he was as much of a social outcast to be forced to sit alone. He sighs loudly, huffing air through his nose. “No! But my lame-o friends decided to join clubs this year and they meet during lunch for extra club time.” He grumbles, arms now gesturing widely around him as he articulates exaggeratedly. “But I know that they’re really just trying to suck up to the girls in the drama club.” He makes a loud gagging noise.

“So, I stay out here and study, that way I have more time to stream when I get home,” Tommy explains with a soft shrug, motioning to his binder nearby, notes scribbled in an illegible chicken scratch. “I might have to start doing that, the workload here is so much more than at my old school.” You groan, gesturing to your own binder chock-a-block with notes, textbooks and spiralled notebooks.

That’s when the two of you hear a distant ringing of bells, “Where’re you headed? I can lead you there, this place is a maze sometimes.” Tommy offers the smile soft on his face. You pull at your folder and point to your next class, “Uh, it’s-“ You begin, only for Tommy to exclaim. “We have the same class! C’mon, Miss will beat our asses if we’re late!” “Miss who!?” You look at him quizzically as Tommy quickly stands grabbing his things and motioning for you to follow. When you stand slowly and grab your things Tommy grabs your wrist, “She might excuse you for being late, but I’ve been late one too many times dude, you don’t even know.” His pace is faster than yours but his hold on your wrist is firm, forcing you to keep up with him.

Days of chatting and befriending Tommy turns to weeks and soon it’s been a few months. You had been happily keeping to yourself mid-stream, your regular viewers making light conversation with you through chat. “Oh woah, we got a raid!” You cry watching your chat, “Aw it’s from Tommy! Hey big man, thanks for the raid of- HOLY SHIT! 300,000!?” Your eyes grow to the size of saucers as you reread the notification several times before finally looking into your webcam looking like a deer in headlights. “U-Uh welcome guys! If you’re planning on sticking around please be polite in chat!” You try your best to gain control over your racing mind, heart beating rapidly against your chest.

A large number of Tommy’s viewers leave, but you try your best to entertain those that stay for another hour or so before you end stream with a significantly larger number of subs than what you started with. Your speed dialling Tommy’s number is unrivalled as you lay back in your chair, eyeing your stream set up across from you. He picks up, “Hey-“ You cut him off immediately.

“Um, so when were you going to tell me you’re some big twitch hot shot!? Or was I just supposed to find that one out for myself champ?” You hold back the urge to screech down the phone line as he laughs at you. “Hey! It just slipped my mind, okay!? A big man’s gotta lotta big things on his mind at the one time!” He cries out in futile defence, knowing you had every right to be at least a little bit furious at him for keeping this a secret.

“Wasn’t the raid fun though!?” He squawks after a couple of moments of silence, “It was… fun, but it was also the most stressed I think I’ve ever been Tommy. That’s a lot of people to just throw at someone.” You huff a little, “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t really think before doing it. I was just super excited to send them over to you, I just knew they would love you as much as I do.” He mumbles the last part of his sentence, but you hear it just fine. “Aw, I love you too Tommy.” A smile finds it’s way onto your face, “I can’t believe I’m actually considering forgiving you.” You throw a hand over your eyes, groaning. “Would a midnight trip to get some fast food accelerate the forgiveness process?”

You hum for a few moments, “Are you trying to bribe me, Tommy?” The blond stammers adorably before huffing, “Uhhh, no?” He offers, “Oh well if that’s the case, then yes.” You grin as his screeches of laughter reach your ears, your own laughter joining his within moments. “Talk later big man, got a midnight meal to plan for.” Tommy groans, “Oh no! You’re gonna spend all my money!” You scoff, “I’m sorry mister millionaire! You’re my walking talking money bags now, get used to it!” You giggle along with Tommy’s chuckles, his voice relaxed. Tommy knew his assumption was right, even on the first day he met you. He knew you were a good person, a good person for him. There’s no one he would rather spend his time and money on.

~Requests are currently open!~

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #tommy x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #x reader

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Note

AU: Levi logging into a dating site bc his friends suggested it (Erwin and Mike) since he's never dated again after the accident. But he's about to give up, people stop talking to him once they find out he's paralyzed from the waist down, until he matches with Hange and they talk a lot, he likes her so much that he decides to not tell her about his disability. But they have to meet up eventually and he's like super nervous, even though he knows Hange wouldn't care.

She had planned a dynamic and active date until she sees him and quickly changes plans to accommodate to him, opting to go to a cafe, Levi ordering tea of course. He appreciates her not mentioning or making questions about it, not even treating him differently, and simply lets her push his wheelchair to a nice place like a park afterwards.

They get married eventually and he lets her help him around by carrying him, he doesn't feel ashamed with her since she never judged him. Also they both love it when Hange sits on his lap whenever they watch tv or when she wants to ask for something or randomly just to annoy him and he sometimes jokes about her being too heavy but he wraps his arms around her and smiles into the crook of her neck :')

"oh... you're...."

levi watches hange, wondering what her next step would be. would she turn around and leave? or would she gather enough pity to carry on with their date?

both things happen to him before, and levi doesn't wish to repeat those experiences. especially with hange. it's a shame, really. he liked her.

he's about to tell her that it's fine and they don't have to proceed with their date if she doesn't wish to, when-

"you're even more handsome than on the photos!" hange's smile is bright, wide. and sincere.

levi blinks a few times, trying to shake off his surprise.

"what did you just say?" he rasps too quietly, afraid to actually hear the answer.

"you didn't tell me you're that handsome!" hange repeats, a sliver of judgement in her voice. "you didn't prepare me at all! i knew you were attractive, but levi!" she claps her hands together. "you're absolutely gorgeous! the photos really don't do you justice."

hange continues gashing over him, complimenting his soft hair and beautiful eyes, and all levi can do is just listen, not able to completely comprehend what is happening.

"are you blind?" he asks roughly, interrupting her tirade.

"no?" hange answers, her brows furrowed. "my sight isn't that great but..."

"then don't you see this?" he gestures upon himself with a grimace on his face. "don't you care about this?"

"why should i?" the confusion in her eyes becomes more prominent.

"because i'm in a wheelchair."

because when people see him, they only feel pity. because every time he catches someone looking at him, they quickly turn away. because it's been a fucking while since someone saw him, levi, and not a guy in a wheelchair.

"i can see that," hange nods. "i'm not that blind."

she doesn't care about this, levi realizes suddenly. hange sees him, sees the goddamn wheelchair and she doesn't care. his heart clenches almost painfully. he lost all hope of getting this - a chance to live a normal life. but hange treats him as equal, like an ordinary human. he's more thankful for that than he could ever articulate.

"so there this cafe nearby..." hange begins. "they serve excellent tea. i remember you mentioning that you like tea a lot, right?"

"yeah," the fact that she remembered something so trivial about him shouldn't warm his heart like that. but it does.

"still you should have told me that you're so good-looking," hange mutters, as she starts pushing him in the direction of cafe. "i would have put more effort in my attire..."

listening to her chatter, a smile pulls on his lips. levi can't resist it. and he doesn't want to.

he had his doubts about coming here, wasn't sure that this date would happen at all.

but now- now he's already looking forward to the second one.

#i know i said i won't be posting for a while #but this prompt was so good🥺#and i don't want to go to sleep yet #levihan

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sunfleurry · 3 years

Text

II. Soie et Satin

Part 1

Thank you for the lovely feedback on part 1 of modern prince!Harry <33

NOTE: I decided to give my MC a name (which I also edited into part 1). I hope you enjoy Rose and Harry’s story!!!! this part is not edited oops

***

Harry was on TV and he looked like a star. Rose watched him from the comfort of her living room while she sipped her morning coffee.

It was a live broadcast showing his arrival to the event with his family including the queen, his mother. She was an intimidatingly beautiful woman who gained the respect of the entire country, if not the entire world throughout her life. She was known to be strict on tradition, but she’d done so much for the country when it came to helping the less fortunate, advocating for global health, and supporting free education for everyone.

Now that she was older and had quite a few children, she passed on some of her duties to them. They, including Harry, followed in her footsteps, looking out for the population by supporting the same causes their mother dedicated her life to as a young woman. Their role was to represent the queen, and they did so flawlessly.

Rose didn’t want to admit that she’d googled Harry the day he sent flowers to her office, but she did, and she was reminded of the fact that Harry was heir to the throne. She never cared much for learning about the royal family and this was something everyone knew, but reading it after meeting him was like a big wake-up call. She’d danced with a man who would one day become king. She tried not to let herself think about it too much, or else she knew her thoughts would spiral out of control.

Harry and his brother wore a simple black suit, a change from his usual style, and his mother and sisters were donned in modest dresses she knew were designer and likely cost the same as her home.

Men with flashing cameras were going crazy behind the gates, desperately trying to get the perfect shot of the country’s “perfect” family.

Upon seeing the paparazzi, Rose was instantly reminded of how lucky she and Harry were to not have been caught by anyone when they went out. She quickly picked up her phone and googled Harry’s name and filtered the results to hours before the charity event just to be sure. She sighed in relief when there were no photos or stories of the both of them.

She relaxed into her sofa and fixed her eyes on the television, watching the rest of the event, subconsciously smiling every time Harry’s handsome face popped up on the screen.

***

Three days later at work, Rose received a text from Harry. What are you doing tonight?

She quickly replied, I have a date with a really hot guy I met a while back.

She barely put her phone down before it pinged with another message. What? Who is he? Tell him you’re busy.

She grinned. I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Did I mention he’s a prince?

Her phone vibrated with a call, Harry’s name in block letters at the top of the screen. She accepted the call and brought it up to her ear. “Hello?”

“You’re not funny.”

She barked out a laugh, then winced and apologized to her coworkers whose desks were adjacent to hers. “I think I am.”

She heard him huff through the line then say, “Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Where do you want to take me?” She asked, tamping down her giddiness. It had only been less than a week since she’d last seen him, but she missed him.

“I thought we could take a walk on the beach, maybe have some ice cream?”

“How romantic of you,” she teased.

She could almost see his eyes rolling. “Are you in? I haven’t been able to go out in public since that morning charity.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Normally after making such a public appearance, we’re encouraged to stay low-key for a couple days. Something about the media being on high alert.”

Suddenly remembering the thoughts she had the morning she watched him on TV, she instantly knew what he meant. Rose worried her lip between her teeth as she tried to form the words to articulate the worry that had been building up since that day.

“Harry, will there be people following us?” She closed her eyes, hoping she didn’t sound stupid.

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke up. “You know what, change of plans. Wear something comfortable.”

“Oh,” she ran a hand through her hair and sat back in her chair. “Okay.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Rose.”

She smiled. “You too,” she whispered.

***

Harry said to wear something comfortable, so she slipped on the most comfortable outfit she owned: A pair of joggers and matching crewneck. He’d only ever seen her dressed up, she figured she would let herself look more casual for once. Her doorbell rang just as she was slipping on a pair of Nikes. Reaching over, she opened the door to reveal a nervous-looking Harry standing with his car key in hand.

“Hi,” he said, a smile breaking onto his face at the sight of her then pulling her in for a hug.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in the cologne she absolutely loved.

“You look lovely,” he said as he pulled back to take a look at her.

She couldn’t resist kissing his cheek. “Please, I’m wearing glorified pyjamas.”

He looked down at his own pair of joggers and t-shirt. “I’d say you understood the assignment.”

She laughed as she followed him to his flashy car. It wasn’t the same one he picked her up in on their previous date, but just as nice.

Less than a half hour later, Harry had driven them to the middle of the city and into an underground parking garage of a large high-rise building. One of the tallest she’d ever seen in person. It had a modern design, the surface covered in mirrored windows. He drove through the garage until the car reached a closed door. He inched the car closer until the sensor detected it and opened the door, allowing the car to enter a smaller parking area containing two other cars, one of them Rose recognized as the one she’d been in on their last date.

“Do you live here?” She asked, taken aback.

“Yes,” he smiled nervously. “This is my private parking.”

“I can see that,” she frowned. “I thought you lived with your family, at the palace.”

“You and everyone else in the world,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You don’t?”

He unbuckled his seat belt, and pocketed his key before turning towards her. “I come from a not so traditional family, but I need my own space despite the responsibilities that are expected of me. I’m a man in my twenties who values his privacy so I moved out when I was nineteen. Under a fake name.”

She was shocked by the revelation, even more by the fact that he was trusting her with his information.

“Nobody knows you live here?”

“I mean, the other residents do, but they’re under contract.”

“And your family?”

“Of course they know where I live,” he chuckled. “They just don’t come here. They don’t want to risk being seen here because they respect my space, they want to make sure I have all the privacy I can get away from the public eye, because, well, one day I won’t have that luxury.”

Rose deflated at the reminder of what his future entailed. “Do you ever think about it? Being heir and all?”

Harry looked down at his lap, picking an invisible thread on his pants. “Let’s go inside,” he said at last.

Taking the hint, Rose smiled and opened her door, Harry doing the same. He scanned a card inside the elevator and keyed in a code on the keypad. The lift immediately started rising, only halting when it reached the final floor of the building.

Nothing could have prepared Rose for the extravagance that would welcome her as soon as the doors opened. An entire wall was made up of giant windows, overlooking the bustling city underneath. They were so high up, she couldn't hear any of it. Instead, the height provided a peaceful silence in an otherwise busy area. The flooring was marble, the luxury kind one would only see on TV, and the place was spotless.

Harry’s warm hand on the small of her back urged her to walk inside, the elevator doors closing behind them. She took in the open concept penthouse, a staircase in the corner of the grand living room leading to what she assumed was his private corner, the bedroom and bath.

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

Harry laughed behind her, before grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen she knew even Gordon Ramsay would drool over. “Would you like something to drink?”

Snapping herself out of her dumfounded state, she looked at him. “What?”

He suppressed a smile and repeated, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh! Um, yes please,” she said, wringing her fingers together.

“Relax, Rose.”

“How could I?” She asked, eyes wide. “I feel like I’ll break something just by looking at it!”

“That’s fine, love. I want you to be comfortable.”

“But this place—”

“Is my home,” he interrupted, stepping closer and gently grabbing her shoulders. “And I made the choice to trust you with my secret, so please, make yourself comfortable.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”He leaned forward to capture her lips with his, and she melted into him without hesitation. She’d been wanting to do this since their first kiss and the wait was definitely worth it.

He pulled back with a grin, leaving her breathless. “So, drink?”

She nodded, exhaling as an attempt to calm her beating heart.

“I also made us dinner, I just need to put it in the oven.”

The statement made her heart swell, a feeling of fondness for the man in front of her taking over. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, as he pushed a few buttons on the oven until a yellow light started flashing and the desired temperature was displayed. “Can’t bring you here and not feed you.”

She chuckled and pulled out a stool tucked into the island to sit on. “No you can’t.”

***

The food would take an hour, so the two decided to go to his living room to wait. They were cuddled up on his couch, watching a movie she’d chosen and that he’d seen a dozen times. Rose didn’t know that though.

“Do you ever worry people will recognize you?” She asked, out of the blue. “When we went out together, you seemed unfazed by the looks some were giving you.”

He shrugged. “I get used to it, really. Besides, Fen is always around in case something happens.”

She pushed off the couch to look at him. “Fen?”

“My security detail,” he nodded. “He’s always around when I’m out and about.”

“But, I didn’t see him the other night. Or the first time we went out together.”

He grinned. “That means he’s doing his job.”

She frowned as she slowly tucked herself back into his side. His arm automatically wrapped around her. “So, we were being followed all night?”

“It’s for safety purposes, Rose. Plus, I would never intentionally put you in danger.”

“What could possibly be so dangerous?”

Harry ducked to press a kiss to her head, breathing in the shampoo scent that coated her red strands. “Anything could be dangerous, even the paparazzi.”

The thought of being followed by paparazzi sent shivers down her spine. She’d seen videos of celebrities being hounded by them and felt sorry for the public figures who had to live with that.

“What if they see us together. Would they publish photos? Are you scared of what they may think?”

“Are you ashamed of me, Rose?”

She craned her neck to kiss him softly. “I would never be ashamed of you, Your Highness.”

“I knew it!” He cried, dramatically pushing her away. “You’re just using me for my title!”

“How did you know?” She gasped, trying to hold in a smile.

“I’ve always felt something was off with you,” he tutted, leaning his back on the arm rest and pulling her on top of him.

She giggled, raising her hand to run her fingers through his hair before smoothing it down. “Why is that?” She whispered.

“There’s no way someone as beautiful as you would give me the time of day,” he murmured, brushing his lips on the corner of her mouth.

She pulled him in to give her a proper kiss, their legs tangling as he switched positions until he was hovering on top of her, forearms caging her head against the sofa.

“If anything, you’re out of my league, Prince.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. He pulled back. “Don’t ever say that,” he frowned.

“It’s true—“

He kissed her again. “Who I am... What I come from... Means nothing between you and me.”

She stared at him intently, the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

“Do you hear me?” He murmured, brushing his lips along her cheek.

She nodded.

He sighed. “Good.”

Rose gasped when Harry’s mouth was suddenly on hers, instantly brushing her tongue against his in what could be the best kiss she’d ever had. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down to feel his comforting weight on top of her. The kiss morphed into something wetter as his hands trailed along her side and dipped under her shirt. She shivered from the contact, bending her knees to cage his body between her legs. Harry brushed his lips against her jaw before slowly making his way down her throat to the fabric of her top covering her chest. His hands inched along her skin to her back where he applied pressure, making her arch, chest pressing against his own.

“Harry,” she breathed as he pressed open mouthed kisses up her throat, leaving a wet trail.

He hummed in response before coming back up to connect their lips. She sighed into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as his hands trailed back to caress her sides. “Can I take this off?” He breathed, fingering the hem of her shirt.

She nodded against his neck, where she tongued at his skin, savouring the feeling of just being so close to him. He pulled her shirt up but before he could take it off completely, his phone rang, the shrill ringtone breaking through their bubble.

Harry scrambled to get off the couch, recognizing the ringtone, while Rose fought to catch her breath, mourning the feeling of his weight on her.

Harry excused himself and left the room to speak to whoever it was while Rose readjusted her top and sat up. She decided to braid her hair while waiting for him to finish.

Just as she was tying up her hair, she heard his footsteps before he appeared with a grim look on his face. He tossed his phone on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he smiled but she didn’t buy it.

She tucked her legs under her and extended a hand towards him.

Harry accepted it and she tugged him over to sit next to her. He complied and slumped back, neck resting on the back of the couch.

“It’s just PR stuff. You don’t need to worry about it,” he said, eyes never leaving the ceiling.

She felt her heart sink to her stomach. “What kind of PR stuff?”

Before he could answer, she jumped at a sudden beeping coming from the kitchen.

He chuckled half-heartedly as she held a hand up to her chest. “It’s just the oven, love. Come on, food’s ready.”

“But what about—“

He kissed her. “I’m hungry.”

She pouted but decided to drop it, not wanting the mood to be ruined.

***

Rose placed her fork on her empty plate and got up to make her way to the sink. “How did you learn to cook like that?” She turned on the water and waited for it to turn hot before rinsing her plate. She reached for the sponge and squirted soap on it, intending to wash all the dishes.

Harry walked up behind her and slid a hand around her waist, splaying his hand on her stomach and pulling her back against him. “My mother,” he said before reaching over and turning off the water.

“Hey!” She went to turn it back on but he wrapped a hand around the tap, preventing her from moving it. “Harry…” She warned.

“Rose…”

She turned around and crossed her arms, ignoring the way her body reacted to his proximity.

He laughed, and pried the wet sponge out of her hand, then pushed her out of the way to rinse it and put it back in place.

Rose scowled. “Let me do this for you.”

“No, I have a dishwasher that could do that for me. I want to spend time with you, not watch you wash my shit.”

“You do so much for me, Harry. Let me wash your shit.”

“I can wash my own shit.”

“Okay, this is getting gross.”

Harry giggled and kissed her cheek before walking over to his fridge. She took the time to wash her hands and dry them before turning around to ask if he needed help with whatever it was he was doing.

She was met with the sight of him standing next to the kitchen island, a delicious-looking chocolate cake on it with two small forks.

Harry chuckled at the way her eyes lit up, knowing her love for chocolate was the way to her heart.

“I was too shy to ask if you had something sweet to follow up with dinner,” she admitted sheepishly, biting her bottom lip as she sat on the stool while he did the same across from her.

His smile widened, handing her a fork. “I would never forget.”

She blushed and followed his lead by taking the first bite of the cake. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “Is this André’s?”

Harry looked at her, horrified. “Don’t ever say another man’s name after moaning like that.”

She snorted, taking another bite of the delicious cake.

“Yes,” Harry said finally, expression morphing into one of amusement as he watched her devour her half of the dessert. “He did make it. Something about giving the lovely lady a real treat.”

Rose laughed at the way he mocked André’s accent, and pushed the plate towards him to finish the cake. “I can’t take another bite,” she groaned.

***

Rose awoke to the sound of faint chattering. She didn’t remember when she fell asleep but once she was aware enough to take in her surroundings, she realized she was still in Harry’s penthouse, curled up on his couch under a warm blanket. A warm feeling engulfed her when she realized Harry had tucked her in.

“Fuck you, I can do whatever I want.”

She frowned, knuckling her eye to try and wake herself up as she heard Harry start pacing, wherever he was.

“I know, I know, she’s been telling me the same thing all week.”

“Harry?” She called out. He didn’t hear her.

“If I hear you call her that one more time, you’re fired.”

“Harry,” she called again, louder. His pacing stopped and a second later, he appeared from around the corner, phone up to his ear.

“Rose,” he sighed, then scowled at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, now don’t call me back.” He locked his phone and gave her his attention once again. “Sorry about that.”

She smiled sleepily and reached over to caress his face. He breathed out and knelt on the ground to come face to face with her. Her fingers wound in the short hairs at the nape of his neck and he exhaled, dropping his forehead to her collarbone. “Sometimes I hate being me.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and a laugh bubbled out of her, unwillingly. He snapped his head up. “What’s so funny?”

“Tickled me,” she mumbled.

He snorted then got up, asking her to move over before laying down next to her and pulling her to his side.

“You seemed angry,” she said gently.

She could feel him tense under her. “My mother was just pissed at me, had my publicist relay a message.”

“Did you do anything?”

Harry looked into her warm brown eyes, his own glinting with mischief. “When am I not?”

Rose giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. She could feel herself being pulled back into unconsciousness, and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't. She wanted to stay awake for him, to comfort him further but exhaustion suddenly washed over her. Before being completely lost to the world, she could’ve sworn she heard him murmur, “I won’t let anything come between us.”

***

THANK YOU FOR READING <3333 lmk if you’d like to be tagged !!!

Tag list: @mellamolayla

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sharkselfies · 3 years

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The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast Transcript - Episode 1

Since some folks requested it on Twitter, I’ve started transcribing The Minds Behind The Terror podcast episodes! Below the cut you’ll find episode 1, where showrunners Dave Kajganich and Soo Hugh talk to Dan Simmons, the author of the novel The Terror, about episodes 1-3 of the show. They discuss Simmons’s initial inspiration for writing the book, the decisions they made to adapt it into a television series, and the depictions of some of the characters such as the Tuunbaq, Hickey, and “Lady Silence.”

The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast - Episode 1

[The Terror opening theme music plays]

Dave Kajganich: Hello! Welcome to Minds Behind The Terror podcast. I’m Dave Kajganich, I am a creator and one of the showrunners of the AMC show The Terror, and I’m here in the studio with executive producer and co-showrunner Soo Hugh.

Soo Hugh: Hello!

DK: And we welcome today the author of the sublime novel The Terror, on which our show is based, author Dan Simmons, calling in from Colorado. Welcome, Dan! Hi!

Dan Simmons: Hi Dave, thank you.

DK: So let’s start with the very beginning. This was a mystery from actual naval history that you decided to transform into a novel that was crossed with Gothic horror. Can you tell us a little bit about where you got the idea from this, how you went about preparing to write it, anything that can give us insight into how you blended all of these remarkable genres into this incredible book.

DS: I’ve known since I was a kid that I wanted to tell a story about either the North or South Pole. And the reason is in 1957, 58, when I was very young, actually I was just a fetus, they had the international geophysical year, and that really caught my imagination. Now the international geophysical year saw cooperation between American and Soviet scientists, it was the height of the Cold War, that’s the first time they submit(?) a permanent base at the South Pole, and I fell in love with Arctic stories. I had one book left on a book contract with a publisher I really liked, and we hadn’t decided what that book was, and I wanted to write a scary story about the Arctic, in this case the Northern Arctic, and that happened because I was doing a lot of research on Antarctica and just couldn’t figure out what the macabre, Gothic, scary part would be. I wanted to put it in, but I didn’t think they’d go for, you know, an eight foot tall vampire penguin.

[laughter]

DK: You might be surprised!

DS: There was a footnote on a book I was reading about the Franklin Expedition, which I had never heard of, and I decided that’s what I was gonna write about, and it had a tremendous amount of the unknown that I could fill in, that’s what novelists love. And so I told my editors excitedly that this was what I was gonna do, I would call it The Terror after the HMS Terror that went with the Erebus, got stuck in the ice, all the crew disappeared in history… And they said no.

[laughter]

DS: ...it was the first time the publishers did that. I said, “Why not? I think it’s gonna be a pretty good novel.” And they said, “Look, nobody’s interested in a bunch of people that’ve been dead for 150 years.”

SH: That sounds like some of our meetings.

[laughter]

DS: So I did what maybe you do, in such a meeting, I just thanked them, and I liked them all, and I had a good dinner(?) and I said goodbye, and bought back my last book on the contract and went out and wrote it on spec.

SH: Well why don’t we take a step back, Dave, and why don’t you tell us about how you found Dan’s book and that experience?

DK: Sure! Dan, you might remember some of these steps from your side of it, which is that originally this was auctioned by Universal as a feature, and I sort of tried to get the rights and was a bit too late, and tracked them down to the producers at Universal who were running the project and got myself hired as the screenwriter for a feature adaptation. By the time I was ready to start actually committing an outline to the paper, Universal had let the rights go because there was a competing project. It was interesting to sort of rack up reasons why people wanted to make it but didn’t feel that they could pull the trigger, and we were so grateful when AMC finally called us back and said, “Look, we’ve figured out a model where we can do this as a limited series,” it really felt like ten episodes was a great length for this, because we could blend genres in a way that, you know, we could unpack sort of slowly, more slowly than a lot of shows would’ve done, and drive the plot as much as we could, like the novel, with character choices and decisions as opposed to just horror kind of entering the frame and taking over for one set piece after another. So it was a long journey, getting this to AMC, but at the end of the day I think we found the right home for it.

DS: I can no longer imagine a two hour version, feature film version of this story, and I can’t imagine a second season of this story, I think it was just right.

SH: It does feel like we did a ten hour cinematic novel.

[audio from the show]

Crozier: Only four of us at this table are Arctic veterans. There’ll be no melodramas here--just live men, or dead men.

SH: Dan, Dave and I talk about how addictive the research gets for this when you start going down the rabbit hole, how did you approach the research?

DS: I think most novelists run into that, but since I write a lot of quasi-historical novels, at least set in history, I get totally addicted to going down the rabbit hole. Readers say, “Well, Simmons’ book is too long, and the descriptions of things are too exhausting,” but I watch your characters go on deck and there are all the things and views and everything that I tried so hard to describe and then people tell me, y’know, “talky, verbose,” and in print I have to do it that way, but you just pan the camera a little bit.

DK: You have words, we have images! For every thousand of yours, we get one!

DS: Yeah.

SH: But I remember this passage in your book where it talks about all the different ices, and you vest it with so much psychological import. We talk about that passage a lot in the writers room, it was one of our highlights, of this is how you do great descriptive writing.

DK: And you made so many parallels between things like the environments of the ships and characters, you built a kind of code book for the show without realizing you were doing it, which is making visual metaphors out of a lot of these things that would normally just be exposition or historical detail.

SH: Well especially between Crozier and the ship, I mean when you hear about Crozier’s relationship with Terror, and you have so many amazing passages about, you know, the groan of the ship and how it, y’know, and you cut to a scene with Crozier and how you feel that the bones of Crozier is embedded in the ship, and we really took a lot from that.

DS: Well I noticed that on one of the episodes where Lord Franklin [sic] is trying to get back in touch with Crozier, you know, trying to be friends with him again, I think it’s a brilliant episode you guys wrote.

[show audio]

Franklin: You’ve succeeded in avoiding Erebus most of the winter.

Crozier: I’m a captain. I’m--I’m peevish off my own ship. I leave it and I hear disaster knocking at its door, before I’m ten steps away.

DS: And that was beautifully written, that. You got so much of Crozier right there.

DK: It was a pleasure to write these characters on the backs of your writing of these characters, because you really--I mean, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to do, as you know, from having written, you know, a whole long string of historical books, is to make these people’s psychologies feel as modern as they must have felt in their day, while still being able to articulate some of the blind spots of being from the eras they were from.

I’m curious from sort of a history nerd point of view, if people watch the series and like the series, and read the book and like the book, and want to know more about this expedition, what’s the first book about the Franklin Expedition you would point people to? What was most helpful or most interesting in your research?

DS: I apologize, I can’t think of the name of it, but it’s a collection of stories about both the South and North Pole, and so it’s a short section on the Franklin Expedition, but it didn’t make mistakes, and most of the other books that I read, uh, keyed, and videos for that matter, like PBS did a story about the Franklin Expedition, but they keyed off a 1987 attempt by several doctors to figure out what happened to the crew, and they exhumed three crewmen’s bodies from the first island where they stayed the first winter, and those crewmen had only been on the ship a couple of months, but they decided because of a high lead content that the lead had poisoned them and then made them stupid, and made them paranoid and everything, but they didn’t compare that test of lead with any background people in London at the time, and later they did, so I didn’t believe the lead thing.

DK: Well that’s the fascinating thing about a mystery with this many parts and pieces, kind of in flux, is, you know, you can create all kinds of competing narratives about it, and what’s fascinating about writing a fictional version is you can’t have that kind of ambiguity, you have to make a decision. I think people will enjoy very much ways that the show and the book have a similar point of view, and also ways that they diverge in their points of view, because there are so many ways to tell this story--

SH: Well you know how much we invest responsibility in the audience as well, right?

DK: Sure.

SH: In terms of your book and our show as well, we’re not against interpretation, that there’s a responsibility on the audience’s part to put together--we’re not gonna hand feed them. There’ll be some people who put more of an onus on Franklin, and others who would say, “You know, if I was in that position, I probably would’ve made the same decision,” “Oh no, this definitely killed the men,” “No, this killed them!” and that dialogue is exciting, you know, when you read fans talk about your show and your books and really smart, insightful ways.

[show audio]

Franklin: Would it help if I said that I made a mistake?

Crozier: You misunderstand me, Sir John, I--I only meant to describe why I brood, not that I judge.

DS: I don’t worry about who or what my reading audience is. People ask me about that and I don’t imagine a certain reader. But I’ve always tried to write for somebody who’s more intelligent than I am. My perfect reader would be just smart as hell, speak eight languages, you know, have fantastic world experiences, and I want to write something that will please that person, and I think your show does the same thing.

DK: Well we were--that was our motto! We wanted to be sort of the dumbest members of our collaboration and there’s a sort of horrifying moment when you realize that’s come true.

[laughter]

[show background music]

DK: Tell us a little bit about why you made the decisions to tell the story in the order you told it, and whether you sort of felt like there was anything from the way you had told it that we were--or a missed opportunity. We’d love to know sort of what your experience of that was.

DS: I don’t think there were any missed opportunities in terms of not adapting my way of telling it, and I can’t remember all the reasons for why I broke it down that way, some of them were just very localized to, you know, when I was writing that particular bit. But I do know that it gains a lot by being told chronologically the way you’re doing it, so for me that seems now the logical way to tell it again.

DK: Have you ever read the novel in chronological order? When we hired writers for the writers room, we gave them a list of what the chapters were like in chronological order, and I think we asked half the room to read it in your order and half the room to read it in chronological order so we could have a discussion, a meaningful discussion about whether there were things about telling it without being in chronological order that we wanted to embrace or not. It was a fantastic experience and I wonder if you’ve ever read your chapters in chronological order? ‘Cause it’s also a fantastic book!

[laughter]

DS: I haven’t read it that way, they were that way in my mind before I started getting fancy and breaking them up and moving them around in time and space, but I would love to have seen that experiment.

DK: The reason we can get away with it in the show is because there is a loved book out there that people trust, and you know, it is a classic in this genre, so I mean this is a perfect example of, you know, the amount of gratitude we owe the book, because we got away with a lot of things that maybe we wouldn’t have been able to get away with because you came before us.

SH: And speaking of those rabid fans, Dan, it’s been really interesting reading audience reactions to the show from people who’ve loved the books and who just naturally will compare the two, and we’ve been heartened by just how supportive our fans have become--are of the show. There is this controversy, some people like our choice to give Lady Silence a voice and some people feel it was sacrilege to your book, where do you fall on that? DS: At first I was surprised. In fact when you were hunting for an actress for Lady Silence and I read about that, it said somebody who’s fluent in this Inuit language and this Inuit language, and I said, “What the hell?”

[show audio]

[Silna speaking Inuktitut to her dying father]

DS: Having seen her with the tongue and heard her, and knowing the different reason they call her Lady Silence, it all works for me and I was also surprised when Captain Crozier could speak fairly fluent, you know, dialect, ‘cause I had him just not understanding a thing.

[show audio]

[Crozier speaking Inuktitut to Silna in the same scene as above]

DS: I love it when readers get rabid about not changing something from a book, and I have to talk to them sometimes, not ‘cause I have a lot of things adapted, this is the first one, but I love movies. They say “Aren’t you worried it will hurt your book?” and first I explain Richard Comden(?)’s idea that you can’t hurt a book anyway, except by not reading it, I mean the books are fine, no matter how bad some adaptation becomes. Books abide, and so I wasn’t concerned. With the changes that I see, I get sorta tickled, whereas some readers get upset, and they just have that set. So I think that the vast majority of viewers haven’t--well, I know the vast majority haven’t read the book, haven’t heard of the book, probably, they’re gonna keep watching because of the depth of the characters, and that’s based on the first two episodes, and I agree with them completely.

[show audio]

[Silna speaking Inuktitut]

Crozier: She said that if we don’t leave now, we’re going to “huk-kah-hoi.”

Blanky: Disappear.

SH: We get asked a lot of questions about the supernatural element of the show and the way a monster does or does not figure in the narrative, and seeing our episodes, did it feel surprising or did it feel faithful to the way you imagined it as well to your book?

DS: It was surprising to me at how well it was done, because it’s hard, I know, to show restraint in a series like this, and certainly in a movie, but it’s hard to show restraint at showing and explaining the monster.

[show audio]

[ominous music, Tuunbaq roaring, men screaming]

DS: The way you did it in the first few episodes to me were just lovely, just, you know, a hint of a glance at something and then you see the results of this creature, so that’s what I tried to do in the novel, one of the reasons I moved around through space and time, part of what I wanted to do was not cheapen the story and not cheapen the reality of these poor men dying by just throwing in a monster, and so I tried to do it in a way that would not disrespect the true tale, and I believe you’re doing it the same way I tried.

DK: The way you incorporated the supernatural into the book, I mean, I was a fan of it when I first read it. It was jaw dropping the way that it fits so well on a level of plot, on a level of character, and on a level of theme. So when we got the green light to adapt it I was so confident that we were going to be able to do something with it that would be able to be nuanced because the bones of it are so organically terrific.

SH: It helped us know what we didn’t want to do. That formed so much of our conversation, of “this is what we do not want, this is what we do not want,” and slowly you whittled down to getting down to the essence of what this thing had to be.

[show audio]

[Tuunbaq growling]

DK: Another character from the book that really stands out for fans that they are wondering what in the world we’re doing with is Manson. [laughter] And I was curious what you made of the fact that he is pretty invisible in the first three episodes of the show, and that some of his plot beats have been given to a character called Gibson, who I don’t remember is--I don’t think he’s featured very much in the novel. And I wondered if that caught you off guard or if you sort of intuitively had a sense of what we were doing in making that change?

DS: Any discussion of Manson to me leads to Hickey converting him to his future, his tribe, the tribe he wants to have, group of worshippers, that I think Hickey wants to have, but he does it by sex below decks. Hickey’s not gay at all, he’s a manipulator, to me, and he was manipulating Manson who was big and dumb, in my book, he’s manipulating him by this sexual encounter. But I was curious whether you were worried about showing that?

DK: Well, we weren’t worried about showing characters having same-sex affairs or relationships. We wanted to make room in Hickey’s character for actual affection, or if not affection then companionship, or some kind of connection.

[show audio]

Hickey: Lieutenant Irving! I was hoping we’d meet.

Crewman: Mind the grease there, sir.

Hickey: I wanted to... thank you… for your help. For your discretion, I mean.

Irving: Call it anything but help, Mr. Hickey. Please. I exercised clemency for a man abused by a devious seducer.

DK: We wanted to make sure that Hickey had access to command in some way that a steward, an officer’s steward, would be able to provide him, that an able seaman wouldn’t be able to provide him, and that was really valuable to us in terms of charting out all of these character stories, was how does he know what he knows about how command is dissatisfied or where the fractures are if he can’t see them from where he’s sleeps in his cot in the forecastle.

SH: I mean we know that there were relations between the same sex on ships, it just was part of this world. Not to belie that there was serious consequences for it, but you know, we have 129 characters, and we wanted them to feel fully fledged and rich, and, you know, passions do naturally develop and have no characters engaged in sexual relations would have felt just as odd and perhaps even more controversial, and when Irving discovers Gibson and Hickey, his shock is from such a subjective point of view of his moral center. It’s not the camera’s perspective, right? Our camera’s very neutral in that scene. It’s Irving, that character at that point in the show, that is infusing a sense of horror, that’s his horror moment.

DS: I’d like to add that it’s not the gay connection that would cause criticism, but I was flayed alive because the most openly quote “gay” unquote character, that is, Hickey, you know, maybe hunting for affection but definitely hunting for power, he’s the only one they said in reviews, and he’s a killer and a bad person, so I’m homophobic, but I was flayed alive for that. The word homophobic appeared in about 80 reviews. Nobody mentioned the purser, who uh--

DK: Right, Bridgens and Peglar.

DS: Yeah. I thought he was a fascinating character. I loved getting glimpses of him in the series because he’s super smart, he’s super wise, he’s probably wiser than any of the commanders, ahd he’s obviously in love with--who is it that he’s in love with in the show?

DK: Peglar.

DS: Yes, that makes sense. And, uh, so Peglar says, you know, “Is this another Herodotus?” and, “No, I’m giving you Swift now,” he’s educating the man he cares for.

[show audio]

Hickey: I understand you cleared up our “association” for Lieutenant Irving? Gibson: You spoke to him.

Hickey: Mhm.

Gibson: Directly?

(beat)

Christ, Cornelius, I’d reassured him.

Hickey: Cornelius Hickey is a “devious seducer.” That was your--that was your reassurance? You’ve got some face, you know that?

DK: We wouldn’t have dramatized Hickey’s story if we weren’t also going to pull in Peglar and Bridgens’ story, because we knew that people, you know, are predisposed to sort of make that kind of quick assumption, and we just wanted to make sure that the show didn’t have that blind spot and reflected the book, which also doesn’t have that blind spot.

SH: We had those same questions with Lady Silence, and I’m sure you did as well. When we meet her, she’s a frightened young woman who’s about to lose her father, and that’s a universal character moment that anyone can relate to, and the otherness is sort of--is secondary, but then once--in the end scene of 1.02, when she’s sitting there grieving her father and then you have that language barrier with everyone else, we worked with Nive on this because we wanted to make sure the language itself was as accurate as possible, so when you say disappear making sure that the disappear in our language means the same thing as disappear in her language. I think whenever you have characters that feel othered in most media and you’re bringing them into your show, Dave and I also just wanted to make sure we weren’t swaying on the pendulum on the other side and being almost too careful about touching them, and with Nive I think when you have an actor of that talent, she was strong, she was representing a voice that she felt very confident in, and that was very reassuring for us.

DS: And it works well, and when her father’s dying, she throws herself on his chest and says “I’m not ready, it’s too soon, I’m not ready,” and I love that in the show because if she’s gonna become a Shaman he’s dying you know it’s not reached that point of education yet where she feels secure and later on you know beyond what we’re discussing today she becomes to me in the show I see her as more and more majestic.

SH: I do love the word majestic ‘cause I think it describes pretty much all of our characters. I agree, I do think there is something very sublime about who they have become at the end because when you go through that much trials and tribulations, it’s this beautiful human spirit to endure.

DS: I think that’s one of the central themes of the story that you’ve brought out so clearly. In most post-apocalypse, you know, terrible situation movies and shows, everybody turns nasty as hell, they start shooting each other, it’s just like WWIII when they should be helping each other survive, and I found even though there was controversy, even though there was opposition in this story, people opposing against each other, still that they rose to the occasion. And that is so rare I think in much media these days or even books where the characters are themselves and they do the best they can, and when things get bad they rise to the occasion.

DK: The first conversation you and I had about the book, you know, I was basically pitching you sort of what I thought thematically the book was about, and I talked a lot about, that in a disaster like this, a kind of moral emergency, that we would get a chance to unpack what is sort of best and worst in these characters’ souls.

DS: I confuse readers often when I was on book tour for this book, and it was a long time ago, I’ve written a few million words since then, but I confused people by saying that if you want a theme for the survival story of The Terror, it’s love. It’s love between the men. And just unstinting love. And this came out in a piece of dialogue, in the first two episodes.

[audio from the show]

Franklin: I’ll not have you speak of him uncharitably, James. He is my second. If something were to happen to me, you would be his second. You should cherish that man.

Fitzjames: Sometimes I think you love your men more than even God loves them, Sir John.

Franklin: For all your sakes, let’s hope you’re wrong.

DS: That to me was right the theme I was working with, and with Crozier who shows it a different way, with Fitzjames who’s struggling to show leadership, and between the men despite their hierarchy and the British hierarchy, the rank and lieutenants and so forth, eventually they come down to loving the men they try to save. And I found that lovely.

[The Terror opening theme music plays]

DK: Thank you so much for listening to The Minds Behind The Terror, join us in our next edition when we talk about episodes 4-6 with the additional guest Adam Nagaitis phoning in from London. We will see you soon!

[preview snippet from the next episode plays]

DS: I’ll confess something else to Adam, the first time I watched it, I thought your character was a good guy because he jumped down in that grave to put the lid back on.

[laughter]

#the terror #the terror amc #the minds behind the terror #david kajganich #soo hugh #dan simmons #personal #eps 2-4 should be up within the next couple days here!#hope this will be helpful!#also i am absolutely not a professional lmk if you see any mistakes or think a dif format would be better #and i'll add a google doc link in the reblogs too the tags will just break if it try to add it now

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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More Amazing People I Want to Share This With :)

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chainofclovers · 3 years

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Grace and Frankie 7x1 - 7x4 thoughts

Meh? Like...I love them so much, but...meh?

(I did enjoy this line about brunch.)

I really loved season 6 of Grace and Frankie. I thought it was well-paced, largely very well-acted, generally well-written, and it culminated in a massive moment of character development for the title characters, who, having spent years growing closer and being there for each other when others could not or would not be, finally articulate to each other that they are the primary person in each other’s lives. Platonic gal pal soulmate BFF emotional support witches 4 lyfe!

I know progress isn’t always linear, and in fact is very rarely linear, but after a moment that significant, you’d think the writers on this show would maybe come up with some more interesting things for these characters to do than spin in circles?

@bristler and I watched on Friday night, and just this morning over breakfast had a good conversation about the first four episodes of the new season now that they have settled in our brains a bit. We concluded that the writing (often noticeably clunky, like the dialogue is responsible for more narration than usual) and the tone (aggressively wacky) feel really off, especially compared to the prior season. I think we diagnosed the big issue, which is that Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda are by far the most talented actors on this show (if you disagree, fight me in the parking lot) and it feels surprisingly unfortunate that their characters have, to this point in the new season, pretty much figured out their perspectives on each other. No matter how people feel about Grace and Frankie’s sexualities, the whole show has been about them finding each other and getting in deeper and deeper, and it’s less interesting to watch other characters have realizations about that than it is to watch Grace and Frankie having realizations about themselves. If the title characters are now limited to reacting to other people’s actions, and the title characters are played by the best actors on the show, the whole show’s gonna suffer. And is suffering, very much so, at least for these first four episodes. I’m definitely still excited for the final twelve in 2022 (twelve! I cannot believe this season will have sixteen eps!), but I’m pretty disappointed so far.

Stuff I Loved:

The family brunch. These families have been entwined for so long, and the backstory for this particular brunch was so fun (even though I didn’t care for the effects they did to depict Grace and Robert 25 years ago; there was no need for a visual flashback in the scene). I love that Grace hit Frankie with a wiffle ball bat. I love that the two couples realized some of the emotional reasons behind their decisions to lie to each other about Bud’s Bunny and about M’Challah. I love the way Jane Fonda sounds uttering the phrase “Bud’s Bunny” with little to no irony. I love that Grace is able to recognize and articulate just how deep and miserable her anger issues were, albeit with the continued help of her omnipresent martini, and that Frankie told her she’d now make up a holiday in order to spend more time with Grace. I really, really hope Frankie does exactly this at some point in the remaining episodes of the season. I love that Grace is generally a pretty good person now, with aspirations of being a delightful person. I love that she and Frankie don’t have it in them to stay angry with each other, and I love all the evidence that they really, really talk to each other about everything now.

Frankie talking to the man at the office (I don’t remember who he was supposed to be? A toilet manufacturer? I didn’t mention this before, but I actually got pretty high while watching?!? Believe it or not, this was the first time I smoked pot and watched Grace and Frankie at the same time despite having enjoyed both activities on their own for quite some time. I would recommend the combo! And I think I still pretty much got what was happening) about paying for the toilet parts with candy. This whole subplot with the money laundering was absurd and not that interesting, but I loved this particular scene because it was finally evidence of some really thoughtful writing. The concepts aren’t enough! You have to write them into good dialogue! And the whole cash/candy thing was a moment of dialogue that only someone as hilarious as Lily Tomlin could pull off. Which she did, IMO.

In a show about super messy people, Coyote has stayed sober this entire time. He is sober, employed, in love, and preparing to buy a full-sized house with his partner. He hasn’t murdered anyone in his family. Hasn’t even attempted murder once.

In 2017 or whatever, Grace Hanson would have been furious about Frankie using obscure Beatles references like a treasure map when hiding the cash. But here in 2021, she cooperates and even gets in on the fun. The writing is very unsubtle this season, but that did feel like a reasonably subtle moment that shows how good of a partner she is for Frankie. (Platonic, of course! So platonic. Female friendship, amirite?)

Stuff I Did NOT Love and Felt Incredibly Negative About:

Brianna. I can only conclude that June Diane Raphael has decided she’s happy with playing a character whose primary role in life is to be hot and mean. She succeeds at being hot and mean, but I have reached my limit with this character. I realize we’re only a quarter of the way into the season, but I don’t think I can take another arc about her learning to compromise only to reveal to Barry that she never intended to compromise at all. At this point, it’s both abusive and boring. How?! The Grace/Brianna parallels aren’t interesting anymore, because one character has grown and the other is stagnant. I get that Brianna was raised in an emotionally stilted environment by two unhealthy people. But I think it would be very cool if she could learn something from her mother at this point. Grace has put a ton of effort into dealing with her “rabbit-killing, mad-at-the-world anger.” She’s put a ton of effort into figuring out what makes her happy, what she wants her life to look like. She’s even started accepting her age and abilities without shame. And that growth is believable; Grace is still short-tempered and she still slugs back way too many martinis and she struggles to articulate certain things, but she’s grown into a truly lovely human. And while, as a daughter with a mother, I can absolutely attest to the fact that it can be difficult and uncomfortable to learn lessons from one’s mother, Brianna really, really should. Grace spent decades letting anger and shame trap her in a small, miserable life. Brianna—and even Mallory, who just seems like a vapid idiot this season—are traveling that same path, but there’s someone right there who could really help, maybe even more than Frankie helped when the Hanson girls were first growing up.

The arraignment. The scene might’ve been salvageable if it was filmed from Grace’s perspective, and filmed to reflect how surreal and improbable it all was. But speaking of non-linear progress, this scene erased everything Nick Skolka has done to put himself in my good graces (LOL) over the past couple seasons. I mean, I tried, man. I even wrote fic about Nick, Grace, and Frankie making a genuine effort at polyamory. But the arraignment is so emotionally manipulative, such a slap in the face of everything Grace has worked for, and while we’re certainly “supposed” to feel the weight of the moment, I mean, it’s not like we’re supposed to be like, “Oh, cool, we’re in a rom com now! This is adorable!” it still felt bad and unearned and slapdash.

And I want Frankie to process these things with her! Frankie seems so happy to have all this information about Grace and how Grace feels, but I want to see scenes in which we can gain an understanding of how Frankie actually feels. Hearing Frankie talk to other people about how Grace feels is interesting, but it’s like there’s no room in these episodes for us to learn anything new about Frankie herself.

Grace’s transitional wig. Is so. Bad. It is. Such a. Bad wig. Oof. I mean, I like what they’re doing with Grace’s hair from a plot perspective, although (see one bullet up) I would really like to get more of an understanding of what’s happening in Grace’s head, not just on top of her head. And gosh, Frankie would be a really good person to talk to about this in a conversation that lasts longer than 30 seconds. But the wig! She’s in a wig in all four episodes, of course, since Jane Fonda went grey and cut her hair short before they started filming this season. The wig for episodes 1 and 2 is fine; it’s a good approximation of Grace’s typical hair, and of course we know that canonically Grace’s hair isn’t 100% her own hair anyway. But the wig with grey roots looks so weird. The part that’s growing out doesn’t look the same as the hair on the wig from 1 and 2. And the grey roots look like a yarmulke. I cannot wait to get to the point in the season when Grace goes all the way grey.

(One more thing about the hair. I can’t let it go. I paused the show while we were watching to rant, but I’m not done.) I had the great privilege of seeing Jane Fonda in person at a protest in 2019. She is an insanely beautiful human. She was growing her hair out and it was partially dyed blonde and partially grey. It looked really cool. I am not ashamed to say I spent that day learning many things about the climate crisis and about Jane Fonda’s hair. Having seen her in real life with her real hair looking that fucking great, I just have a an extra-large grudge against everyone involved in that horrible wig. The wig is necessary, but it didn’t have to be this bad.

What Do I Care About Now?

I am pretty intrigued by the way Grace threw out her real age in a conversation with Nick and Elena. She has nothing to fear anymore! She’s so chill about aging! What could go wrong? I assume that Nick and Elena maneuvering for Nick to be on house arrest in Grace's house specifically has to do with the fact that Grace is 82. She’s gonna find out that Nick is allowed to be with her because she’s ancient and helpless and the court took pity. Or something like that. She’s going to feel betrayed on top of feeling stifled and overwhelmed by Nick’s presence. I want to see where this goes for sure.

Other than that, and other than the fact that I really do continue to believe this show is moving in a direction in which Grace and Frankie will choose each other, I feel very whatever about this whole thing. I love this show and I will always appreciate this show for giving me some incredible characters to spend years of my life writing about, and for bringing me some pretty amazing friendships. Speaking of those friendships, yesterday @ellydash and @telanu and I were talking about some of the incredible TV we’ve watched recently, like Ted Lasso and Hacks and Fleabag and Killing Eve, and how great it feels to watch beautifully written TV crafted by writers who are profoundly—organically yet intentionally—attuned to even the most minor character’s rhythm. The disappointment of these first few episodes of the new G&F season feels like a mild disappointment rather than a sharp heartbreak, and that has a lot to do with being deeply invested in other shows that could also go in all kinds of different directions but with writing I fundamentally trust.

Also Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin are my forever faves and my appreciation for their performances and general awesomeness onscreen and in life is undiminished. So that’s pretty cool.

#grace and frankie #meta by me #grace and frankie s7 spoilers #a lesbian watches ted lasso #grace hanson is a gay disaster #except #she's not even a disaster anymore #she's totally fine and men keep bothering her!#frankie bergstein is a bisexual mess

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